“They’re heroes, you know, real heroes
Not the ones in capes and caps, No!
The ones in scrubs, masks, nursing clogs”
Jamie Dedes, Latter-day Heroes
All over the world the heroes are stepping up. They are the first responders, the medical professionals and their support people, the police and firefighters, those who deliver essential services and supplies, the people in maintenance and transportation, the pharmacists and the pharmacy clerks, those who work in suicide prevention centers and services for victims of domestic violence, and the list goes on. The heroes of our day and every day. This week our poets present a small collection but one filled with gratitude in response to the last Wednesday Writing Prompt, Latter-day Heroes, March 25. Thanks to Paul Brookes, Anjum Wasim Dar, and Nancy Ndeke. Be touched. Be inspired. And do join us tomorrow for the next Wednesday Writing Prompt. All are welcome: beginning, emerging, and pro poets.
Folk call me a hero
as am a keyworker in a food shop.
I am not.
NHS staff, folk in nursing homes,
those supplying food parcels
to those self isolated,
those entertaining online
children out of school.
These are my heroes.
© 2020, Paul Brookes
They wash away our dirt,
scrub our consciences,
cleanse the surfaces of what we do,
clean the remnants of our days,
polish the valuables of our streets.
Make the stains we make spotless,
unsoil the soiled
unstain the stained,
unsully the sullied,
unblemish the blemished,
make our world pristine, speckless,
dirt-free, hygienic, sanitary, disinfected,
sterilized, sterile,decontaminated, healthy
with the correct chemicals and appropriate tools,
deep clean the nooks and crannies of our lives.
Still we call these heroes unskilled.
© 2020, Paul Brookes
More poems by Paul at Michael Dickel’s Meta/ Phore(e) /Play
When thoughts come, to a still.
When the heart is overfilled,
When the mind is not at ease,
When you do not feel well,
And you cannot tell,what is wrong with you?
When there is pain
And your head aches
When you lie down
With a very long face,
When you want someone to sit near you;
To hold your hand
And to smile at you;
To take away your pain,
To make you well again;
To bring happiness, then after, here comes, The Doctor!
Fear goes away, and there is hope
When you feel the stethoscope,
So there is nothing quite wrong
“But, here is a mixture.
To make you strong.”
Such politeness and care
Is a quality so rare,
But it is there. And I must say
Though not from a bank
But from the depths of my heart
I owe, my doctor many a million thanks.
© 2020, Anjum Wasim Dar
- Behance … artwork
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- Unsaid Words of Untold Stories…Prose writing
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“POETRY PEACE and REFORM Go Together -Let Us All Strive for PEACE on EARTH for ALL -Let Us Make a Better World -WRITE To Make PEACE PREVAIL.” Anjum Wasim Dar
Like swat teams, they sleep on the ready,
Never asking why or how,
Hearts worn on the giving hands,
The most unlikely of places you find them giving ,
The most precarious of spaces you find their hands extended,
Working beyond the call of duty and convenience,
Putting one tired foot ahead of another spasming in numbness,
Men and women life has got dependent on,
Even as few among us ‘ only look to the self’
Time of the double digit year that rose with a cold and runs with the heat,
Unsung saints have crashed from the weight of humanitys needs,
Undocumented stretches of giving and then some more,
Going the extra mile on fumes and the indomitable spirit of humanity,
Men and women beyond professional duties riding the waves of disastrous contacts to save a life,
Human angels filling the emptiness of commercial shelves with basics upon a cold night,
Medics walking on slippery quarrantine quarters to offer hope of a lone sufferer,
What of that ambulance man who last slept last week?
And the nurse whoses duty goes beyond administration’s of bandages into a listening and reassuring voice?
What of the old man who goes shopping on your behalf because you can’t?
The bedridden mum of three calling to cheer you up as your nose runs red,
What of that ‘highway man’ without a home and now down with flu,
His best shot would have been a blue look but for that lady berieved recently,
Times and seasons have a rhythm and a tune all it’s it’s own,
For the hurricane of worry that COVID 19 has thrust amidst humanity,
One thing has come up for sure,
Man is capable of being a human being for sure,
Discarding old habits and biases to stand and be counted,
To help within means and beyond those most in need,
And as the world sighs deeply with the burden of sick and dying,
Heros rise every day to perform tasks that make all proud,
It’s to such deeds and acts of kindly giving,
That tells earth is habitat of man,
A hard-work of a loving deity,
Once lost but now found,
At a time when such heroism is indeed needed.
Names may be forgotten but not the acts,
Time will pass and this monster conquered,
But let the lessons forever stay,
That with love, nothing is too hard to gain,
And that we are strongest,
When we are a brother’s keeper.
May you never lack a supporting hand while you live.
Yours too, shall be tended by the seeds you tend today.
© 2020, Nancy Ndeke
Nancy’s Amazon Page is HERE.
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