written for Day #17, NaPoMo 2011…
•
needles
hypodermic needles
needles needles needles
BD 30g
sterilized syringes
needles in my arms
needles in my legs
needles in my gut
needles six seven times a day
needles 3 am because
I forget the 11 pm needle
even tiny lances in my fingertips
to verify the needles needles work
needles so that I can see
needles so that I can pee
needles so my heart will beat
needles so I don’t lose my feet
needles so my blood will pump
clean as it can be
needles in my bathroom cupboard
needles in my car’s console
needles in my carry on
needles in the kitchen counter
needles in my sock drawer
needles often two at a time
needles by the box loads
coming in the mail
needles safe inside my sharps
then to the biohazard lane
needles on my night table
needles on my brain
needles in my waking dreams
needles in my nightmares
needles all day every day
needles torn from plastic bags
needles plastic caps pulled free
needles piercing chill glass vials
needles units measured carefully
needles so that I can live
for one more day of needles
yes
needles
cleans
hypos
spikes
needles needles needles
• • •
rob kistner © 4.17.11
The repetition makes for a very effective verse.
Your first tag is “courage.” I misread it as “carnage.” Somehow I think my misreading is appropriate to your poem! (I can’t imagine being “stuck” six or seven times a day.)
Dancing Shadow Tree Unshackled
I tell you Rob…. I enjoyed it ..lovely.. very piercing ..post this..
Sharp post , Rob 🙂
Needles?
Hypodermic needles, all day every day Ron — BD 30G insulin syringes to be precise, quantity compounded by my need to use Type N and Type R insulin; my daily challenge to keep my glucose number consistently near 100, to prolong my life… writing what I know, and just felt the need to rant poetically yesterday… 😉
This ranks among the top of concrete poems I’ve seen. Excellent piece, pointed.
“Needles” are a powerful word, especially in the context that you have submitted them to. Nicely done.
Wow, being a former nurse I can really appreciate what you are saying. Sad to be shackled to needles.
A powerful piece punctuated with the repetitions.
Hi Rob, sorry to hear that you need so many needles, but I love the way you got this off your chest, in such a poetic manner!
Needles, lances, and sharps – oh my. I can’t say I enjoyed reading this, but it was effective. I imagined hearing it in a punk rock kind of way.
Effectively shared… brings back all the moments shared living with a diabetic. Long endless days of needles.
Yikes, I feel for you! Very effective writing, my skin shriveled in sympathy!
I would hate that too, so far I have been lucky but the disease is in my genes.
As piercing as a needle. if you don’t mind me asking, are you diabetic?
Yes madhumakhi, I am an insulin-dependent Type 2 diabetic. I don’t mind you asking, I am not embarrassed by my disease — frustrated as hell, but not embarrassed. Like I wrote in the first line, at the very top of this post, this poem is a “rant about my diabetes”. I require 6 to 7 injections daily to try to maintain my constantly-flaring glucose numbers in the 100-120 range. I lance my fingertips 10-12 times daily to check those glucose numbers. I also refer to my diabetes in the comment section above of this post, in response to Ron.
I also take 4-6 pills at a time, 4 times a day, to deal with the diabetes — and the high blood pressure, heart disease, and kidney problems that result from the diabetes. Monitoring of my blood pressure 2-3 times daily is also a part of this ‘health dance’.
Most of the time I simply deal with it, knowing the lancing, injections, pills, and monitoring are necessary to stay alive. I have already had one heart attack as a result of my diabetes. I also have peripheral neuropathy in hands and feet as a result, making it very difficult to walk — and my eyesight is failing… in spite of my vigilance. So I am in an ongoing battle with depression and/or anger.
Occasionally it all gets to be too much. It was one of those times when I wrote “Pierced”, a subdued reaction to the anger I feel, from time to time, over my condition. Most of the time, when the depression and/or anger is extreme, or my thinking is “fogged” and impaired by a severe glucose spike, I find it impossible to write anything — so that adds to my frustration, because I love to write. It is my primary “release”, my way of coping — my sanity.
But hey, we all have some kind of cross to bear — so I do my best to maintain.
The music is a nice contrast to the work here. Hard to say anything except to say I admire your courage in keeping up with the regiment.
Beautiful though slightly sad.
We all have needles to deal with.
Yes, needles to live and life for needles. Yet one gets space where life blooms.