This Poem was Submitted By: Thomas Edward Wright On Date: 2005-03-16 14:47:30 . . . Click Here To Mail this Poem to a Friend!

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The Left Slipper

  I bent close to hear her murmur an honest appraisal of her situation –             “numb”  after her fall I had picked off the cold tile her cancer ravaged body sinew  tying bone to brittle bone - she had it in her morphine mind that a bladder spasm  required attention, and to that end her trip from bed to floor had begun in earnest  and ended with our last meaningful exchange of pertinent self-effacing mother-to-son  transmission of thought-fully constructed information brewed in a mind once capable  of digesting the corpus of ‘Hawaii’- whole ---- something in the way she then said             “dumb”  led me to believe she was referring to an inability to articulate rather than colloquially -  which made sense - in her own way she had become "dumb" -- knew she could no longer  contribute to a conversation verbally so she dropped one-liners (one-worders)  now and then just to show you she was listening here was a rhymed couplet, both referring to sensory pathology  'numbness:' that inability to sense touch motion temperature pain 'dumbness:' the inability to utter words with the vocal apparatus – but she had done that in her limited way, had spoken those two words which had conveyed more to the small audience gathered around her stage than two words should be capable of carrying all that way  yet a river holds the world in its cold run down the mountain and speaks in tongues to the knowing reverent rocks  a custom measured for this earth long before cancer  became such a misanthropic burden upon the language of             "goodbye" Unbending, I noted a slipper had. She still had a smile where she'd once worn red paint.

Copyright © March 2005 Thomas Edward Wright

Additional Notes:
She passed on on Jan 26. I have been blest by companionship and love through her final days. As she was suffering immensely we were all relieved to see her finally let go. Memories of her are with me daily.


This Poem was Critiqued By: Dellena Rovito On Date: 2005-04-04 17:01:19
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.50000
Thomas, I have a best friend going through the chemo 'crap'. She is getting frail with the poisons pouring in. She has pancreatic cancer so the drs. arn't optomistic. She's a pretty strong healthy lady. What I want to know please is does her mind/speech become affected by the killing of cells? Or from what? I am noticing my lady as becomming not able to concentrate. Your poem is an eye opener to me. And it is devastating. Why must we suffer this much? How difficult for all involved. You wrote a nice tribute to your mothr. I thought I read [war paint on her lips! innteresting!] I'm not reviewing this so much/everything is right... God bless her and her son, Dellena


This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2005-04-04 13:29:21
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.37143
Oh Thomas, I truly am saddened by your loss. You have said it all so well here that I dare not comment on content, etc. Thanks for bringing this forward. God bless.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mark Steven Scheffer On Date: 2005-03-23 15:17:24
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 1.00000
Ho, This will go over big her(e). I remember the words that flowed from me in the like circumstance. The one time I've stood in your shoes. I was going to go into a clown bigfoot, rednose gag . . . but that would be inappropriate here, even for me. Mothers, women. I shall go read my own Sophia . . . 'cause someone must. I guess. Mark
This Poem was Critiqued By: Rachel F. Spinoza On Date: 2005-03-20 17:26:27
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.66667
yet a river holds the world in its cold run down the mountain and speaks in tongues to the knowing reverent rocks a custom measured for this earth long before cancer became such a misanthropic burden upon the language of "goodbye" And I, at your poem, also struck "dumb" How splendid a mother to have produced so loving, articulate and brilliant a son.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Mell W. Morris On Date: 2005-03-20 13:12:04
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
t. I am depleted of energy alloted for the morning and have already made personal comments to you as to the demise of Regis. Your eulogy here adds more spiritual blessings to her farewell and the hours spent with her. t., I know you must still be exhausted and I would bind your wounds, if possible. It personally helps me, at this time, to know how to do it right. That sounds so stupid, eh? I've always heard the phrase "to give the relative a decent burial". Then, I've always wondered, what is an "indecent burial"?. Hearing, reading and rereading the exchanges between you and your mother, have ruptured my heart, brought tears again and again, made me laugh out loud, and I think there is really no set of blueprints on how to die in a manner of political correctness. I'm sorry she had to suffer so much (the 1st time you've admitted it) but perhaps this is a portion of healing...dealing with the trith...straight on. Remember, we all pray for you, Regis, the entire family. Pray for me as I do for you. Mell
This Poem was Critiqued By: Tony P Spicuglia On Date: 2005-03-19 16:15:37
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 8.75000
Thomas, throughout this powerful piece, the analogies, the metaphors, the vocabulary choices all accented the humanity of this woman. I came to feel, by the end of the piece, that I knew her well, that I knew you well, and that her passing, became for me, the quality of her arriving. This is a moving, powerful piece of work that anchors the moments you have spent with her. We are all blessed to have shared in the final moments with you. You speak with confidence and tactile truth --corpus of ‘Hawaii’- dropped one-liners (one-worders) - misanthropic burden - and finally we read "smile where she'd once worn red paint", all walking as we did with you and her. I, having lost a father, brother and sister, can feel in your words things I was unable to articulate at the time. You have brought alive at the passing, what quanta will do for our souls. I appreciate this fine work, it is exemplary!! Thanks for sharing.
This Poem was Critiqued By: Claire H. Currier On Date: 2005-03-17 05:56:26
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.27586
Those memories will be cherished by you forever my friend......mama left March 23rd 2004 and though a year has almost come and gone her memory is so alive within the lining of my heart and the walls of my home here in Tully where she lived till her passing.......... You have structured this emotionally piece well poet, the love you shared with your mom over the years remained with you till the end, even knowing perhaps that some times were not as good as others you did not stray from your love........she felt her pain but also felt your love mixed in and that helped her so much my friend........my mother closed her eyes, gave up on life, stopped eating and drinking, she was 92 when she decided she was tired enough to go 'home'..........we sat by her side for three days watching her breathe, my trying still to get her to drink and take in nourishment, praying, of the power of prayer as you well know.......but as we must come to understand it is always in God's loving hands.........always His will that must be done......and to this end my friend I shall look forward to more of your memories with mom for they not only help you they help others as well..........thank you for posting and sharing with us....God Bless, Claire
This Poem was Critiqued By: Joanne M Uppendahl On Date: 2005-03-16 16:31:27
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 10.00000
Tom: I'm so very sorry for the loss of your mother. These words don't begin to hold all I'd have them bring to you. For the poem, I'm sending an email. It moves me so, but I can't respond to it as a poem right now, except in my heart. All of the words I'm writing feel trite and cliche. Please know they're meant with intensity and sincerity. Now that you're back, I can let out my breath. I'm relieved for the ending of suffering and glad for the support you received during her illness. As ever, Joanne
This Poem was Critiqued By: marilyn terwilleger On Date: 2005-03-16 16:30:25
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.92308
Hi Tom, What a nice surprise to see a poem from your pen...please don't leave us again. This poem makes me profoundly sad...since I retired from my job at the hospital I am now a volunteer in the Radiation Oncology unit. Today there was a man in a wheel chair who had to wait about 15 mins for his treatment. His cancer is in his cervical spine and he wanted to lay on the floor to relieve the pain in his neck from holding his head up. I told one of the techs. and asked if we could let him lay in an exam room but she said she didn't want to move him around more than necessary. So in desperation I just pushed him up and down the halls to keep him occupied and let him know how sorry I was for his pain. Was it enough? I doubt it. The poor soul you write about here no doubt made you feel helpless, as well and leave you wondering if you could have done more...but just being there for her is the ultimate when the patient is near the end of life as we know it. You were there to pick her up...'yet the river holds the world in its cold run down moutain and speaks in tongues to the knowing reverent rocks a custom measured for this earth long before cancer became such a misanthropic burden upon the language..."goodbye"...I love 'misanthropic burden' as it relates to this insidious scourge upon mankind..I never would have thought to use that word. She left her slipper behind but in the end she smiled. The fact that she smiled in her last moments gave this reader hope instead of a feeling of hopelessness because now I know she will be O.K. Very well written as usual and a tale I could not stop reading until the very last word. Hope to hear from you again. Peace...Marilyn
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