Something In The Shed

[ray miller]

I could see it coming, Alzheimer’s or that other
name I’ve forgotten; so many words queueing
on the tip of my tongue, squeezing out
shaving foam onto my toothbrush,

waking at six to get up for a shift
on the wards I’d long retired from.
So I devised a system, beginning in the bathroom,
ending in the kitchen, a mirror on each wall

to remind me who I am, post-it notes to guide
through the maze of morning, like arrows
on the floor of a care home corridor,
railings on the stairs of an abyss.

I know that once I’ve put the kettle on
it’s time to take my tablets, coffee for the missus,
feed the two kittens, wake up the children,
turn on the radio and shove in the washing.

But there’s always something in the shed
I’m wanting, and the shed is stuffed with wellingtons
and vegetables, toilet roll, paint and laundry liquid,
long grain rice, juggling clubs, bikes and rat poison.

Beside the chest freezer I’m standing frozen,
seeking clues in the cobwebbed corners.
I open a cupboard and take the rat poison,
anything’s better than retreating empty-handed.

[NotQuiteSure]

Hi ray,
great title, terrific ending. And let's not over look 'railing on the stairs of an abyss'.

The only negative, verse 4. I don't think you need it, it just elaborates on the previous verse, and the piece would be stronger without it I think.

Good stuff.

Oh, should it be 'So' (L7)? Because ... So?


Not

.

[JJHenderson]

Great subject for the poem and the execution's just as good. My great grandmother suffered from Alzheimer's so I grew up seeing its terrible effects first hand, watching as she forgot who everyone was, even those closest to her. I don't have much to say in the way of nits other than that I agree with Not about S4. You might also toy with reducing, changing, reordering the list of nouns in S5. I think there's a tricky balance to find between "enough to get the point across and make it feel realistic" and "too much to where the readers eyes start to glaze." By my count you have 9 nines, where as something between half and 2/3 of that would seem more ideal.

One little detail I appreciate was the "guide / through" part in which the "me" is elided, which, whether intentional or not, is a great and subtle use of elision to help drive home the poem's theme of forgetting one's self.

[CalebPerry]

Yes, this is an effective poem. I could feel it. I like the ominous ending -- rat poison -- because you don't know what the speaker will do with it. The image of leaving post-it notes up is very sad.

I don't see stanza 4 as problematic.

My mother had Alzheimers. Once I arrived at her house and she was going crazy trying to figure out how the cheese grater fit together with the coffee maker. She thought they were part of the same device even though one was metal and one was plastic.

On another occasion, I called her up to tell her I would be there at 6:00 p.m. She took that to mean that I would be showing up with a group of people, and that she had to make dinner for us. So the threw some salad into a bowl and proceeded to cook it in the microwave. Despite decades of making delicious meals for the family, that was all the cooking that she could remember.

What was really sad, however, was when she stopped being able to understand what she read. She would complain that no one made sense any more -- and she had been a person who read a novel a week, not to mention myriad magazines and newspapers.

My mother was an alcoholic, which I am not, and so I am hoping to avoid this old-age curse.

[Lia]

This is excellent storytelling, Ray.

It's not an easy subject to tackle, but to do so and in such a way that the voice of the narrator sounds natural, is impressive. I like the way we hear N's plan for handling it and then the shift into "But there’s always something in the shed" creating something slightly apprehensive in the reader's mind. There's so many great lines here. The list of S5 explains the muddle of the shed particularly well and the final S is terrific.

I haven't got any criticisms. A sad, powerful poem yet lightly-handled throughout. Nicely done!

Lia

[ray miller]

Thanks everyone. I see that S4 could be omitted. However, someone read the poem and wondered whether the children in that stanza were real or imagined. I like the uncertainty so I'm gonna keep it.

Oh, should it be 'So' (L7)? Because ... So?


Not

.

Good question. Originally I started with "I could see it coming..." Then there's no problem with "So..." The alternative is a comma after "retired from.." and omit "So". I shall go back to the original.

[Macavity]

However, someone read the poem and wondered whether the children in that stanza were real or imagined. I like the uncertainty so I'm gonna keep it.

Agreed. Excellent (and I've read my share of Alzheimer poems).

[CalebPerry]

I didn't say much about your individual word choices, but as I reread the poem, some thoughts will come to me, like this one:

anything’s better than retreating empty-handed.

The shame or embarrassment is not in retreating with an empty hand, but in returning to the house (where the other people are) with an empty hand, so I recommend replacing "retreating" with "returning". On the other hand, the word "retreat" seems to sum up what Alzheimers is, so that word also works.

Oh, and I like the title.

I'm seeing a lot of similarities between your writing and my writing these days. I wonder what it means.

[MilesTRanter]

Hi Ray,

The post-it notes in your poem reminded me of this television drama film I saw around a year ago.

Elizabeth Is Missing

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_Is_Missing

Maud, a grandmother in her 80s living with Alzheimer's disease, relies on sticky notes to get through the day as her memory slowly deteriorates. One day her best friend, another elderly woman named Elizabeth, fails to meet her as promised. Maud begins to believe something sinister has happened to Elizabeth, but her attempts to raise the alarm are dismissed by those around her. She is forced to investigate on her own as her memory flashes back to the mystery of another disappearance: that of her elder sister, Sukey, 70 years earlier.

Ultimately, Maud's daughter Helen learns that Elizabeth is not missing, she is in the hospital having become sick following gardening with Maud. Prompted by Maud, Helen digs in the garden of Maud's home and uncovers the skeletal remains of Sukey. Sukey's body had been buried there by Frank, Sukey's husband, when the neighbourhood was first being constructed 70 years earlier after he had killed her.

[ray miller]

I didn't say much about your individual word choices, but as I reread the poem, some thoughts will come to me, like this one:

anything’s better than retreating empty-handed.

The shame or embarrassment is not in retreating with an empty hand, but in returning to the house (where the other people are) with an empty hand, so I recommend replacing "retreating" with "returning". On the other hand, the word "retreat" seems to sum up what Alzheimers is, so that word also works.

Oh, and I like the title.

I'm seeing a lot of similarities between your writing and my writing these days. I wonder what it means.

Thanks, Caleb. It's not really about shame, embarrassment or the other people. More about recognising that this is just the start, a gradual losing of ground, as in retreating.
Perhaps you've got it too.

[ray miller]

Hi Ray,

The post-it notes in your poem reminded me of this television drama film I saw around a year ago.

Elizabeth Is Missing

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Elizabeth_Is_Missing

Maud, a grandmother in her 80s living with Alzheimer's disease, relies on sticky notes to get through the day as her memory slowly deteriorates. One day her best friend, another elderly woman named Elizabeth, fails to meet her as promised. Maud begins to believe something sinister has happened to Elizabeth, but her attempts to raise the alarm are dismissed by those around her. She is forced to investigate on her own as her memory flashes back to the mystery of another disappearance: that of her elder sister, Sukey, 70 years earlier.

Ultimately, Maud's daughter Helen learns that Elizabeth is not missing, she is in the hospital having become sick following gardening with Maud. Prompted by Maud, Helen digs in the garden of Maud's home and uncovers the skeletal remains of Sukey. Sukey's body had been buried there by Frank, Sukey's husband, when the neighbourhood was first being constructed 70 years earlier after he had killed her.

Thanks, Miles. I saw that on the TV too. I'd also read the book a few years before, but of course I'd forgotten what happened by then.

[CalebPerry]

Perhaps you've got it too.

Gee, I really didn't like that comment. A recent MRI of my brain showed a very healthy brain for a person my age, with no signs of plaques or any of the deformations usually found in people with Alzheimers. So don't hold your breath.

I assume you don't have it either, given the high quality of this poem.

[ray miller]

Perhaps you've got it too.

Gee, I really didn't like that comment. A recent MRI of my brain showed a very healthy brain for a person my age, with no signs of plaques or any of the deformations usually found in people with Alzheimers. So don't hold your breath.

I assume you don't have it either, given the high quality of this poem.

It was a joke, Caleb. I do actually believe I'm in the early stages of dementia - the poem's a year or two old. My ability to do many things is in decline, writing being one of them. I still can make attempts at humour when I should know better.

[CalebPerry]

First of all, I'm sorry to hear that. I'm in decline too, but it is mostly physical -- chronic heart and back problems, not to mention diabetes. Mentally, I've noticed that I search for the right word a little more often than I used to, but then I have done that all my life. If I'm writing less than I used to, it's because less is happening in my life. Writing good poetry is an especially difficult talent, but I can still write a good opinion article. I inveigh against transgender ideology almost every day on the internet.

[capricorn]

This is one of the best poems I've read about Alzheimer's, Ray. It strikes a chord with me as my mother had Alzheimer's and I remember all the notes she left, phone numbers she wanted to remember. It was alarming to find she thought she had 2 children in the spare bedroom who she left biscuits and squash for.

Your ending is chilling as the reader is not quite sure what will happen. This (as all your poems) kept my interest all through.

Eira

[CalebPerry]

I agree, Eira. This poem certainly shows that we write best about the things we know well.

Here are my only suggestions:

I could see it coming, Alzheimer’s or that other
name I’ve forgotten; so many words queueing -- [great line]
on the tip of my tongue, squeezing out
shaving foam onto my toothbrush,

waking at 6:00 to get up for a shift -- [add :00 to the time, or write "six"]
on the wards I’d long retired from.
So I devised a system, beginning in the bathroom,
ending in the kitchen, a mirror on each wall

to remind me who I am, post-it notes to guide -- [great line]
through the maze of morning, like arrows
on the floor of a care home corridor, -- [great line]
railings on the stairs of an abyss. -- [great line]

I know that once I’ve put the kettle on -- ["that" fills out the iambic rhythm a little]
it’s time to take my tablets, coffee for the missus,
feed the two kittens, wake up the children,
turn on the radio and shove in the washing.

But there’s always something in the shed
I’m wanting, and the shed is stuffed with wellingtons -- [inserted a comma]
and vegetables, toilet rolls, paint and laundry liquid, -- ["rolls" instead of "roll"]
long grain rice, juggling clubs, bikes and rat poison.

Beside the chest freezer I’m standing frozen,
seeking clues in the cobwebbed corners.
I open a cupboard and take the rat poison,
anything’s better than retreating empty-handed. -- [great ending]

This is a great poem, although extraordinarily sad.

[ray miller]

Thanks, Eira, Caleb. I made some of those minor changes.

[CalebPerry]

to remind me who I am, post-it notes to guide
through the maze of morning, like arrows

Personally, I would put "me" at the end of the top line, but then you'd have two of them. Just saying.

[NotQuiteSure]

Hi ray,
maybe 'loo' for 'toilet'?

Regards, Not

.

[ray miller]

Hi ray,
maybe 'loo' for 'toilet'?

Regards, Not

.

Nah, loo rolls is too aspirational.

[NotQuiteSure]

Yeah, fair point. I can see how they'd have trouble fitting in with those working class juggling clubs and long grain rice.

[ray miller]

Yeah, fair point. I can see how they'd have trouble fitting in with those working class juggling clubs and long grain rice.

Yeah, and the vegetables, of course.

[NotQuiteSure]

Ah, by vegetables I thought you meant potatoes, sackfuls for the chip butties and the industrial helpings of mash.