Today the focus is my hips:
What lies beneath the calcifying bone?
What mystery of movement will be known,
Those secrets that an X-ray plate lets slip?
The why it is my walk is turning slow
And keeps me so securely here at home.
Sick Poem Two
I laugh with greatest glee at all the pain,
My own, my legs are screaming as I walk,
Gone out into a world of such delight!
As best of all the agonies: insane
Of all the varied tortures: best is talk,
That makes the conscious mind a sorry plight.
I walk by carrying my legs
Put up with whining protest calf to thigh
What tries to pull me back from where I want to go
Arthritis here might have the edge
But contradicted by a warmer, better sky
So I can laugh at all the what of what I feel below.
About The Author
Allan Blaustein writes formal, rhyme and meter poetry. His blog, Poetry, Prose And Anything Goes (alblau999.wordpress.com), is “a full-time writer’s life.” His poems have been published in Turk’s Head Review, Best Poems Encyclopedia, Blognostics, Screech Owl, Bijou Review, Verse-Virtual, Section 8, Blue Unicorn, Newpoetry.net, Scryptic, and The Pangolin Review. He can be found on Twitter at: @AlanBlaustein