Showing 141 - 150 of 483 annotations in the genre "Poem"
Summary:Amusing, and lovingly told in the first person, the poem describes the comically embarrassing physicality of giving birth and considers the profound implications of this life event: the sex act from which conception originates, the anguish of losing a child; the fearful joy of welcoming a new life into the world. During labor, the mother is also aware that the doctors expect her to perform, "the audience grows restive," but in the end they are of no consequence as it is "just me, quite barefoot / greeting my barefoot child."
Summary:A woman with breast cancer describes dealing with doctors and medical procedures, from facing "embarrassing questions" to the finality of the mastectomy itself. She copes passively with the procedures by escaping into a fantasy world; but when it is time for the doctors to remove her breast, she assumes an active role and "[gives] it to them."
Summary:A 30 year-old woman describes with chilling power her three suicide attempts. She compares herself to a cat with nine lives and to a concentration camp victim; yet "dying / is an art . . . / I do it exceptionally well." The doctors/men that save her are the enemy, and she warns them to "beware."
Summary:This poem describes the first period of a girl who has been waiting what seems "like a lifetime" for her period to start, only to find herself emotionally disconnected to her mother at this important rite of passage.
Summary:This poem is a cynical yet earthy account of menstruation and the ambivalence many women feel toward it. The narrative voice is a middle-aged woman recounting how periods have interrupted her life in various ways, some quite dramatically, others humorously. The final verse, however, provides the sardonic twist of the poem: when twelve-year-old Penny is handed a pad the "size of an ironing board cover," she cries out "Do I have to do this from now till I die?" The answer is, of course, no, at which point she replies, quite relieved, that there is something "to look forward to."
A Woman Dead In Her Forties is divided into eight sections, each consisting of between 5 and 10 stanzas, which vary in length from 1 to 4 lines. The poem explores bereavement due to breast cancer (perhaps of one woman, perhaps of many--and perhaps there is no difference); it also interrogates the privacies of loss. One of the tensions in the poem is between what is said and what cannot be said, both for those who are ill and those who are not, those who have died and those left behind. This is expressed in the half-conversations and snippets of memory in the narrative, as well as in the form of the poem itself with its pauses, staccato jumps, and prolonged caesuras.
Summary:This is a collection of poems about patients, written by a young physician in the late 1960's. The book is organized around the theme of a hospital ward. Each poem is named for a patient and has the patient's disease as its subtitle. The poet composed this work during his own illness, when (as he says in the Introduction) "my patients reappeared to me and I lived again in my mind all the many emotions we experienced together."
Summary:A woman begins the morning by assessing her mother's mood through her reaction to breakfast toast. They are off to visit her father who has dementia and no memory of his past as a war hero, or of his present as husband and parent. Yet a fleeting smile suggests that, on some level, unbeknownst to him and inaccessible to them, remain shreds of the same person.
People can’t say goodbye / any more. They say last hellos. In this poem the narrator says his last hellos to his father, who is dying from a brain tumor. Cecil (the father) seems wise and cantankerous, reflective yet humorous.
His son asks, "Sorry, Dad, but like / have you forgiven your enemies?" Cecil replies that he must have because he doesn’t think about them anymore. Later, near the end in the hospital, he tells his son, "You’re bustin to talk / but I’m too busy dyin." The son concludes, "Snobs mind us off religion / nowadays, if they can. / Fuck them. I wish you God." [76 lines]