A MAN THAT

A poem, inspired by living with dementia

By Kevin Bonfield

 

A man that can no
longer tell the time nor know
which day will be coming
next

Opens the top of a
carrier bag and
shows us an alarm
clock and a diary

A man whose long and
short term memory crackles
and sometimes
cackles

Opens the top of a
carrier bag and
shows us a shaver
and a camera

“They’ve told me I can’t be there”
A man who feels no
hot, nor time of day
but always hungers

For something sweet
A bit of music
Anything smooooth
with ketchup

“It’s the kids they can change it”
A man who hides
his remote control
in a plastic tub

Is told by voices
To move himself
and his worldly goods
The bedroom is now closed

Above The Line

ABOVE THE LINE
a poem by Kevin Bonfield (part of my dementia inspired collection)
Highlight, in bright pink, the chosen pictures
And trace the words below. Smooth.
Only, what’s this? Something about dates
Dates, what about dates, hang on, dates
I remember them. I think.
It has somehow changed, I wanted the chairs
The ones that turn, yes I definitely yearn
For those turning chairs.
Yet on here, it’s something about dates
Dates? dates? choosing dates. Not DATES!
I didn’t want them. I know.
I’ve highlighted. In bright pink. the chairs.
But it doesn’t say so. Only chairs.
It’s no wonder people explode. More and
More confusion, wanting chairs that turn.
But getting dates. Young people laughing.
But I highlighted it. I think.
Above the line, bright pink, above the line
Above the? Hang on, let me see that.
“You need to highlight below the line”
And yet they keep telling me he’s fine.
I wanted THIS! the chairs that turn!
I know the time. Don’t I?
Learning how to tell a man his pink
Highlights are above the line, not below
That that is why he’s got dates, not chairs
Not belittling, not patronising, not hurrying
Not controlling, not demoralising, but guiding
Take the lead. Highlight his fears.