I have taken to wake up late at night walking about

 the apartment that is big

One night there was a short-cut I lost my bearing collided

with a mirror. My wife who has a flashlight by her side

switched it on told me which way to go.


The moment when you don`t know your name

and the familiar faces unknown when you can`t find you

way back home and you have to wear a tag telling people

how to help your home.

When you have a sudden violent temper too dangerous

to live with. When you find yourself in a home of strangers

and there is no escape since you no longer have a house,

the place that from time to time like a flash of memory,

a moment of sanity.

Dementia! I asked my Indian publisher if my latest work

of self- published work, was any good,

he didn`t answer just told me the price of printing?

wrong question, wrong answer.

The publisher was thinking of the money and not

about my self- doubts.

The ogre of old age, watch your steps, old man

they will take every penny you have.



◄ the Norwegian club

Brexit 2 ►


Profile image


Sat 2nd Feb 2019 16:12

What is most unnerving here is the doubt that this applies to yourself in reality or not Jan. Either way, it must be taken in with dread and feared ; however some will encounter it and will not be aware in the final stages. Your usual sense of realism is so strong here and compelling.

All the best to you. Ray

Profile image

M.C. Newberry

Sat 2nd Feb 2019 15:32

Having my own experience of self-publishing, I especially like the line =
"wrong question, wrong answer". There is the primary piece of
advice in the First Aid Manual I knew that advocated the reader to
"reassure the patient". But it becomes tricky when commercial
and creative enterprises fall within that parameter of "care".
As for dementia - I have experience of that too = in the last months
of my mother's life when she became a Jekyll and Hyde version of
the mother I knew in younger happier times.. The saddest aspect
was when her better periods were blighted by her awareness that "something wasn't right". That half-way stage on her final
trip in this life was the cruellest aspect of her own condition and I Iook back on it with deep resentment and anger towards the
process in this life that permitted it to happen.

Profile image


Sat 2nd Feb 2019 11:10

Jan this is a very sad poem my friend.

It is a shame few open up to this whilst they still can.

It takes a brave soul to admit to the anger.



If you wish to post a comment you must login.

This site uses cookies. By continuing to browse, you are agreeing to our use of cookies.

Find out more Hide this message