Do Not Resuscitate Poem by Michael Philips
Do Not Resuscitate
Saturated in morphine
breathing like a hurt animal
maybe somewhere deep down
at the bottom of the mineshaft
a little light was flickering.
We spoke to her, sometimes loudly,
We held her hand and felt its warmth
We stroked her hair.
We expected the end in hours or a day,
More morphine and more wild animal rasping
on into the morning and the next morning.
Work days are missed, meetings postponed,
return flights canceled, everyone thinking
please hurry up, and feeling guilty for it,
asking the doctor how long now, and
how could her oxygen level be going back up.
More morphine and more animal breathing.
Just as she lived her life
she would die on her own terms, by God,
and screw us and our goddam schedules.
Sitting at her bedside, I realized
that someone who could be so infuriating in life
was now infuriating us with her death.
My sister looked over and wondered
what I was laughing about
there's much sadness in the poem but there is also dignity and victory.
The pain here is palpable. Hard to read. But there truly is laughter at unexpected times, and yes I believe sometimes those hard in life are also unwilling to let death take them. This is a fine poem, Michael. Raynette
Michael...this is a fine poem. It's a gift from the heart. It gets to the pain and stays with it. My only suggestion is to cut the line 'in the suspended logic of hope.' It is too abstract and it tries to explain something about the poem. It took me away from the raw, sensitive feelings and the location in the poem. That's my two cents.
This, Michael, is an extremely honest look at the two participants of death - the one dying and the one left behind. Having been there, I know sometimes that the only way we can cope with death is to laugh out loud! And then we feel guilty for laughing...but if we are lucky, the one dying would know - and understand. Scarlett
It's wierd experiencing someone passing. I watched my mother in law pass with quiet calm only a death rattle at the very end. I saw her younger brother pass 2 weeks ago from the same cancer screaming in pain then quietly no sound just shallow breathing at the end. Death has it's own signature.
Wow, this poem was very emotional to me and the details were on point, you kept me interested, not one boring sentence. Well done!
You made me 'remember'. Very effective. As usual - fabulous.
Good poem! The title and the mineshaft metaphor were particularly intriguing. Regards, Stephen Parnell
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 5:36:40 AM # 1.0.0.1119
THe subject of the poem is one thing- but the poem itself has life! Well done!