Snap!

Police officers investigate the site of a roller coaster accident in Suita, western Japan, Saturday, May 5, 2007. A roller coaster traveling up to 75 kilometers (46 miles) per hour hit a guardrail at an amusement park in western Japan on Saturday, killing one person and injuring 21 others, officials said. (AP Photo/Kyodo News) ** JAPAN OUT, NO SALES, MANDATORY CREDIT
Police officers investigate the site of a roller coaster accident in Suita, western Japan, Saturday, May 5, 2007. A roller coaster traveling up to 75 kilometers (46 miles) per hour hit a guardrail at an amusement park in western Japan on Saturday, killing one person and injuring 21 others, officials said. (AP Photo/Kyodo News) **

He was the sole survivor of a fairground ride disaster
and spent twenty-three months in hospital
– as they very carefully put him back together.
It had been such a lovely day for several friends
who had taken the ride, but when the bolts snapped
– they fell like dominoes on either side.

Only he survived, he’s full of anger, and weighed down with guilt
he’ll never walk again though, too much spinal fluid spilt
and though he recognises his Mum, he’ll never again speak her name
his larynx was crushed too in the fall and the new sound is not the same.

It takes so long but he taps each letter out on his new keyboard
then he blows in a cup and sound comes out through a strange cord
and although he doesn’t remember his voice sounding so tinny as this
it is a voice of sorts, and it just has to do he guesses.

He’s up to Jack and Jill books now as his Mum helps him learn to read
it’s sad to see her in such pain when her eyes look into his and plead
but the words are hard to grasp now and he always does his very best
yet he lived while others didn’t so some days he still feels blessed.

He hates it though when they wash him, a pretty nurse helps his Mum and when
– they wash him ‘down there’ he always wants to scream
he wishes that he could go to sleep and never wake again but then
– he feels the guilt and instead wishes he could wake to find it all a dream.

©Joe Wilson – Snap! 2014

Surviving

thankful

 

Strenuously pushing against inevitability
He fights desperately for every breath
But the overwhelming coronary attack
Has surely guaranteed his death.

In those last few moments that remain
He reflects upon the sum of his life
Filled with regret of such magnitude
That he’ll never again see his wife.

For their’s was a bountiful marriage
A life full of children and love
A life that he really didn’t want to leave
For it fitted him just like a glove.

He awoke some twenty hours later – alive
Saved, this mere mortal man
He’d live a much more thankful life now
For it seems death was not yet in his plan.

©Joe Wilson – Surviving…2014

Locked-in here

Locked-in-syndrome-image

he could see the nurses moving round
as they fussed about his bed
he could hear each word they spoke of him
as if he was already dead
and yet they knew he was alive
or why would he still be there
he’d already be burnt to ash and dust
and been stuck on a mantle somewhere.

it was odd the way that it started
he was walking home from work one day
his legs just started to feel very strange
then he collapsed as they both fell away.

he was rushed to the emergency hospital 
where his condition had got better each day
but suddenly he went into a spasm
that ended with him lying here today.

locked-in syndrome he heard one doctor
say to a colleague talking over his bed
and while they were wondering about him
he silently screamed in his head.

all the things they were saying were scaring
and he couldn’t tell them what he knew
he felt lost and alone and so frightened
but about it there was nothing he could do.

he’s been lying like that for six months now
they’ve assisted his breathing as well
but they don’t chat as if he’s not there though
and to him that now feels worse than hell.

he stopped breathing

CRASH

they started his breathing this morning
but they’re worried that he’s getting frail
and inside his head he’s still screaming
and weeping though no-one can tell.

 

©Joe Wilson – Locked-in here 2014