Tag Archives: nurses

Hafiz – Poem 30

All images created by Rebekah Marshall’s prompts using AI on Gencraft.com website.

I am reading Hafiz’s Little Book of Life, poetry by Hafiz-e Shirazi. He is challenging me to become more comfortable with ambiguity. I will share his poem and some of my thoughts on his poem (sometimes with the help of experts when the concepts are too hard for me), followed by a poem and some art inspired by his poem.

Hafiz’s Poem 30:

The Alley of Prestige
Is not for us

If you don’t like it
Try changing Justice

Some thoughts:

Alleys are narrow, hidden, not the usual route the rest of us walk down to get where we’re going. Since Hafiz calls this an Alley of Prestige, I imagine he is talking about a passageway where most would not be welcome. It is probably where the top echelon of society rub elbows on their way to somewhere fancy and exclusive. I don’t think these are the people striving for healthy excellence, but perhaps those competing for fame and admiration. He is saying that people who are walking the Way of Love of taking a different route. We have different priorities.

It doesn’t mean we can’t have success or wealth or any of the other abundant blessings that are meant to come our way, but it should not be the goal of our actions. And if we don’t like the fact that the Way of Love does not chase prestige, our issue is with Justice. Reality is structured such that true pursuit of divine love requires the collapse of ego-seeking. If we spend all our time trying to rig the system, play the game of hierarchy, and resent not being admired, we might not be on the right path. We should not be focused on climbing the social ladder, competing for favor, or performing for prestige. Integrity, humility, and honor may not always get the applause, but they are on the side of Justice.

My Poem 30:

Wouldn’t it be lovely
if the people rewarded
with the most prestige,
the biggest salaries,
and the praise and glory
were the people who give
of themselves every day
for the sake of others?

-nurses who lift and check
and wipe and console
and heal and save and carry
our burdens when we are at
our weakest and most
vulnerable.

-teachers who fill the minds
of the next generation
and inspire our greatest
creators of the future.

-health aids who do the dirty
work of managing these failing
bodies when they are at their worst.

-classroom aids who sit beside
the child who needs the help,
patience of a saint corralling
the minds least open
to knowledge.

-daycare workers who
raise the babies while
their parents must work.

-librarians who solve
and guide and suggest
and provide the hope
and light of promise
books represent for all.

Not that politicians
and football players
and Wall Street traders
don’t have important
functions in society,
but I’ve never wept
in one of their arms
as I struggled with fear
and pain and been
comforted
by their wisdom
and compassion.

Hafiz. Hafiz’s Little Book of Life. Translated by Erfan Mojib and Gary Gach, Hampton Roads Publishing, 2023.

Surgeon

Shall we dance?
Ok, people
let’s get this show
on the road.
Saddle up
This cowboy’s
ready to ride.

Doc, she’s a high five.

I know, I know.
I’m double gloved.
I ain’t afraid o’ no ghosts.
But I do wish
she was a virgin.

She’s a road map, Doc.

Yep. I’m ready.
Why are we
still gabbing?
Let’s Whipple this
in time for lunch.

Doc, she’s already painted.

Cameraman?
Check.
She good and out Gas Man?
Check.
10-blade.
Have I told y’all
about the 11-hole GSW?

We’ve heard that one, Doc.

Hmmm….well, how about
back when I worked ER,
and Sister Mildred was
a frequent flier,
always came late at night.

Doc, we’ve heard them all.

Telling my tales
relaxes me,
keeps me focused.
Humor me, people.
What about Biker Bill?

That’s a good one, Doc.

Well, Biker Bill
was circling the drain,
refusing to discharge up.
His organs were trash.
We needed his bed.

Doc, she’s trying to help.

Dammit, Gas Man,
do your job.
Why do you get
the big bucks
if not to make
my job easier?
Are you kidding me?

Ok, she’s out Doc.

Buzz me, Nurse.
So Biker Bill
just won’t do
the celestial discharge
and in walks
his wife.
I’ll need the retractors next.

Doc, why was he in the ER?

Metal poisoning. Followed
by MVA. So, anyway,
in walks his wife.
All she wants to know
is if he cheated on her
before getting
himself shot.

Did he, Doc?

Well, that’s where
the story gets good.
Test him for VD,
she screams.
The guy’s doing
the death rattle,
but she wants proof.

Doc, you ready for staples?

Almost, but then
in walks the girlfriend.
After security broke up
the fight, I had to lay crepe
with them handcuffed
to either side of
his bed.

I thought you broke up the fight, Doc.

Maybe I did,
I don’t remember.
I just know it took
that man way too long
to check out and we
had to sit and listen to
their love triangle all night.

Doc, we done?

Yep. This one’s
a winner. I think
we got it all.
Good work, team.
I told y’all we
could finish in
time for lunch.

The Women

(Poem 199 for 2024 – I am writing a poem a day)

AI Generated image I prompted on Gencraft.com https://gencraft.ai/p/hls2hj https://gencraft.ai/p/DO4ZyC

10,000 American military women
served in Vietnam and risked their
lives right alongside the boys sent
to die in the boonies and crash in
the Hueys and swelter in country.
Doctors, nurses, air traffic control,
intelligence, not to mention the
civilian women who were news
correspondents, or worked for the
USO, Red Cross, Special Services,
Donut Dollies, the list goes on…
witnessed the atrocities of war,
the wounds that have yet to heal,
the loss of limb, life, sanity, and
humanity that stole the future of
so many who perished there in the
jungles or continued their descent
to despair for years to come thanks
to Agent Orange, depression, Hep-C,
cancer, and a big giant dose of PTSD.
And then they were welcomed home
by jeers, protests, being spit on and
insulted, reviled for their sacrifices,
and despised for their acts of service.
They were lied to and lied about, but
mostly they lied to themselves to
survive each day; how else could
they believe that all would be well,
and unfortunate sons and daughters
would get together and be alright?

@Home Studio – 199th poem of the year  (After reading The Women by Kristin Hannah.)

Hannah, Kristin. The Women. St. Martin’s Publishing Group, 2024.

Runner ups for the Vietnam photos to accompany my poem: