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Kathy Kubik

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Quiet Time
by Kathy Kubik

Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Rated "PG" by the Author.
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Recent poems by Kathy Kubik
•  Drawing the Line
•  Somewhere in San Paulo published in Wicked Alice
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           >> View all 34

Here's what I could not
say to you

as you lie in urine stenched
sheets, your arm jerking straight ahead,
precise as your Underwood typewriter,
a strange sort of Morse code

your head melted to
the pillow, mouth open
in a gaping grin,
teeth forgotten on
the bedside table
unable to utter any harsh words.

Still strong,
you defy death,
your neck a band of tough cords.

Beds three by three
like Girl Scout camp
other tentmates
curled into balls,
fists into balls
whisper throughout the night.
"yoo hoo"
"yoo hoo"

softly sings from the Alzheimer's patient
in the bed across from you.

Your name on
everything, pale
mauve pink cups, a bedpan,
Ann Stalzer scrawled
in yellow masking tape
a teddy bear by your side.

You would hate the view.

Your eyes blink,
curve like brown almonds,
fold over themselves, raw.

Are you dreaming now?
Do you see me now?

I can't find words to say
the only sound my scratched sobs
hot in the back of my throat.

You are the mother
of the father who gave
me life. My father
with a heart bigger than Texas.

My heart is saving up room
for you
and everything left unsaid.

This poem originally published in the October 2003 edition of SaucyVox(Dot)com.


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Reviewed by MaryGrace Patterson 4/25/2006
Good imaages, deep feelings......M
Reviewed by Candy T (Reader) 4/8/2006
i want to comment on this fine piece, but don't know where to start. perhaps i shall just say 'thank you' and leave it at that.

thank you
Reviewed by Regis Auffray 4/1/2006
Powerfully emotive and meaningful, Kathy. Thank you for sharing this gift. Love and peace to you,

Reviewed by Joyce Hale 3/9/2006
Ah, Kathy Kubik, a powerful write!! You painted a true picture, sadness and all, pierced by the love of those who are left. We have this scourge in our family, too, and it is heartbreaking. Stay with her, even though she does not know.

Reviewed by Daniel McTaggart 3/8/2006
Wonderfully strong poem.
Reviewed by Felix Perry 3/8/2006
Kathy this has the dramatic impact of a freight train hitting a car, It brings back so much pain to me of nights I do sat with loved ones in hospitals who were mere shadows of who they had been. You have captured the essence of hospitals and sickrooms and the depressing gloom of being helpless to do nothing but sit and hold ahand.

Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader) 3/8/2006
This is something. I fellowed your words and I saw the beds, smelled the smells and thought the thoughts. Wonderful. Sad. Sadly wonderful.

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