ABPA - Australian Bush Poets Association

This is not written from a personal perspective, but from the perspective of a person suffering dementia.

MY OWN SET OF TERMS

To perchance take a drink from that poisonous chalice.
To sip at sweet nectar that dreamtime might bring.
To smile at misfortune, misadventure and malice.
To exit the stage lest those fat ladies sing.

Take matters in hand and not wait for the Reaper
with hand gripping scythe, to determine one's fate.
To stack all the cards so they play in one's favour
is to be desired 'fore it all be too late.

I live in my mind, but my home is decaying.
No longer a place I can call my domain.
The ship slips away with the orchestra playing.
Distress calls unheard, they are all sent in vain.

So pour me a drink, for I truly am thirsty.
I choose to depart on my own set of terms.
I've lived a full life, do not speak of me tersely.
Please leave me for feasting by plants and by worms.

Copyright (c) Allan Cropper July 2015

To be or not to be

or

Pie in the sky when you die


or


None of the above.

I live in my mind, but my home is decaying.
No longer a place I can call my domain.
The ship slips away with the orchestra playing.
Distress calls unheard, they are all sent in vain.

Sounds a bit harsh but the reality of it sadly is that these words capture pretty closely what I suspect most dementia patients feel. They gradually lose their circle of friends because they can't keep their end up conversationally and in some cases having any conversation is a waste of time from the other persons point of view - so visits decrease and then taper off altogether. The person with dementia becomes a shadow person - there but not there.

I liked your poem Allan

Thanks Neville

Thank you Maureen. I am glad you liked it. And you are right in what you say - 'a shadow person - there but not there.'