Thursday, 30 January 2014

The Swim

Image Source: John Buchanan

Over the last five years I have gradually become less able to engage in physical pursuits. Swimming has been suggested a number of times, but as the moving water in a bath or shower is like fire on my leg I could not face a pool….

My New Year resolution was to lose weight, this meant getting off drugs, eating less and being more active, a very tall order indeed. As doing nothing was not an option and I was starving and still not losing weight, I decided to give swimming a go; it has not been a pleasant endeavour.

Fortunately I used to be a good swimmer and despite not being able to kick, it's way too painful, I am plugging in the lengths. This poem came to me whilst trying to ignore the fire flowing over my right leg.

Oh and the mile…… Dream on.

The Swim

Stroke after stroke
windmill sails
heavy limbs drawn behind
On, on, left, right
Head turns rhythmically
Air drawn, held, expelled
still the arms turn
Reach, push
Water flows past
Length after length
Slowly moving towards
the mile.

John Carré Buchanan
09 January 2014

Sunday, 26 January 2014

Please

Image Source:

My continued battle with CRPS has been particularly difficult recently. My decision to go drug free has had mixed blessings as cost/benefit analysis of side effects versus pain relief and depression plays out.

It has taken eight months to come off the opiates and anti-depressants and my first 'drug free' day (ie. no base line) was marred by the need to resort to breakthrough opiates during the evening, a fact that depression was quick to focus on.

Last night as I sat head in a bucket and racked in pain I wrote the bare bones of this poem. It is not cheerful, but it goes somewhere towards illustrating what living in constant pain is like.

Please

Dreams lie scattered, shreds in life's wake.
Tattered and torn, an ensign in a storm.
Cut the halyard, set it free
to soar - unbound - on the tempest.
God on high, hear my prayer;
Cut the halyard, set me free.

John Carré Buchanan
25 January 2014

Tuesday, 21 January 2014

Elevator Music

Image Source:

A friend of mine has encouraged me to have a crack at writing poems which do not use end rhyme. This is perhaps the start of something new. I hope you like it.

Elevator Music

Water dances over the stone obelisk
making sweet music as it tumbles and turns.
The joyous sound, natural, calm, peaceful.
A tranquil environment, sit, lighten the load.
Yet, there is an alien tune, an intruder.
Insipid, plink plonk of piano, sax, bass.
Riffles of Jazz on endless loop.
Someone, somewhere played this
image of a dark smoke filled room.
Worse still, someone bought it
and inflicted it on tranquillity.
Why?
Turn it off, let the natural order return.
Let the rivulets run.

John Carré Buchanan
15 January 2014

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