We live with so many strong feelings when we have chronic pain conditions like fibromyalgia. Writing poetry and pouring out our emotions onto the page can be very therapeutic. It also leaves something that other people can relate to and find connection and comfort in. We hope that you can find some solace here amongst the many pain-related poems.
Kim from I Tripped Over a Stone wrote this poem of strength to Fibromyalgia. Please visit her blog for more of her Fibro journey told from her heart.
Fighting Fibromyalgia shared the poem below about Fibromyalgia asking for understanding. Please visit her blog for uplifting quotes and to read the poem clearly.
Nikki at Brainless Blogger wrote 'It Took' about Fibromyalgia. (below) She has written other poems which you can read at her blog.
A LOOK INTO THE MIRROR by Suzanne at Fibro Mom Blog
I look into the mirror and I wonder
I remember who you used to be
Are you still the same?
I remember who you used to be
Are you still the same?
I look into the mirror and I wonder
Do you still want the same things?
Are you still the same?
Do you still want the same things?
Are you still the same?
I look into the mirror and I wonder
Are you still motivated and ambitious?
I remember that you used to be
Are you still the same?
Are you still motivated and ambitious?
I remember that you used to be
Are you still the same?
I look into the mirror and I wonder
Is this the same person that walked a half marathon?
I remember when you did that
Are you still the same?
Is this the same person that walked a half marathon?
I remember when you did that
Are you still the same?
I look into the mirror and I know
The pain has changed you but…You are still the same
You are still caring and loving
You are still passionate and giving
You are still ambitious and productive
I look into the mirror and I see you
Not Fibromyalgia!
Not Fibromyalgia!
Here is just a part of Valda's:
The loneliness of this disease
just claws within my soul
and makes my pain so much to bear --
a mean and nasty foe.
But the wisdom of those simple words
console me through tough times
and soar within my soul like birds
with love and joy divine!
Visit her site to read the whole beautiful poem.
And part of the poem that inspired this post:
Isn’t it strange, how nature makes you forget,
That terrible pain you have and continually get.
It comes in waves when you least expect it,
And you think, please stop now and give me a rest for a bit.
Read the rest at Back Pain Blog
Don't Tell Me that you understand, a poem by Joanetta Hendel
Pain has an element of blank by Emily Dickinson
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POEM: MIRRORED EXPRESSION My face has changed; my expression bare. This is my pain, that so many share. The smiles and joy that I once knew so well. Have vanished before me; a living hell. I see those who are active and those who can dance. I want those happy moments. I need hopeful plans. But when I look in the mirror, all I can see Is fatigue in my eyes, and a frown before me. Oh I try to push through. I can act for a bit. But my body still hurts, and my mind is still wrecked. And now and again I feel a bit better But I’m tricked in believing my pain has been severed. The next day I wake, in the middle of the night. The pain is back in full, it’s a horrible fright. So I lay there hoping my mind will shut down. And pray it’s a dream. When I wake I’ll be found. It’s just not fair that so many live While I suffer in silence with nothing to give. And despair comes a calling; it thinks it’s a friend. But I hate it and so want her visits to end. I know people all struggle, they mirror my pain. They mirror my expression, and that keeps me sane. Not that others can suffer and deeply as I but, that others can understand my longings and sighs. So I look in the mirror, and I put on a smile I’m going to fight this for more than awhile. I’m going to see in the mirror, my beauty that shines. I must let it out, my hopes must not hide. It’s a daily battle of wills for my life So it’s round one today, I’m up for the fight. I will kick and scream into the night. I will keep my eyes fixed on the light. May others who see my reflection this year See my expression but, not see my fear. My I find those who suffer, may we all stand as one. And may this damn illness not burn out my fun. All I ask is a moment, when life feels the same. As I longingly recall, when I knew not this pain. My Faith will protect me, my friends will be there. And we will share with each other, how we all care. I will look in this mirror, and change things around. Amidst all this pain, no despair shall be found. Each day I’ll renew, this promise to me And that in itself will keep my hope free. Douglas W. Koehler ©2014 All Rights Reserved.
My bones are getting old and tired
And worn out oh so fast I’m only 56 years old I thought these bones would last But no, they’re breaking far too quick So what’s a girl to do But drink her milk and take B12 And other vitamins too Instead of staying up all night I go to bed at nine No more a shot of whiskey Metamucil does just fine I wheeze through my aerobics class I huff going up the stairs I worry about incontinence And wear Depends in pairs It’s too late now, but I sure wish I’d purchased stock in Tums I’d think about how rich I’d be Each time the heartburn comes I hear my doctor bought a boat From what he’s earned off me He named her Patient Pamela And took her out to sea I hope these bones decide to last At least a few more years Although they snap and crackle and pop And leave me often in tears There still so much I want to do So hang in there, bones of mine I’ll lie for you when people ask And say, I’m feeling fine I’ll eat the veggies, drink the milk I’ll pop the B12 too Just to keep you bones around awhile For I’m rather fond of you! From Pamela Jessen of There Is Always Hope and originally shared on The Mighty. |
A Spoonie Shower
A journey needs to be made
the need is undeniable but yet is put off able:
It’s such a long way to go and so many spoons to use
for what? Some temporary respite from the endless
spite of hyperhidrosis, must I? But I do.
Each pealed off layer of clothing
exposes new layers of exhaustion
and yes this very act of preparation
causes my pores to flow, ironic I know!
As I step into the flowing water
my eyes briefly close, a mistake
because my balance goes.
This jolt of reality triggers a reflex
my hand finds the railing where it grabs hold.
With my eyes open but unseeing
my mind departs and travels abroad.
The sensation of a rainforest transports me
tropically scented gel gives pleasure to the nasal cavities
as it travels to destinations within reach.
For a few fleeting moments,
I give in to the deluge.
The water washes away all doubt
why did I delay this for so long?
For the shortest minutes, I’ve vacated a Fibro life.
But then awareness prickles my joints
as the familiar ache resumes tenure
and the moment is passed.
I must leave the enclosure and
my life resume.
So begins the chores of swaddling,
futilely rubbing at the moisture
as the cleansing waters of verticle bathing depart
so a sensation arrives on my forehead, newly wet
hyperhidrosis glows as if gloating
you have me if you wanted to get wet!
From Susan Pearson at Living Creatively with Fibro
MONSTERS
Written by Alisha at The Invisible F
I do not recognise myself standing in the many shadows of you.
You, towering, all-consuming, ever present but hidden away, in plain sight.
Yet I feel you in every part of me. Trying to become me.
Yet I feel you in every part of me. Trying to become me.
Not all monsters lurk like you.
Once awakened, you thrive, clamour, steal, reverberate …through the length and breath of my mortal body,
Silently leaving deadly, indelible traces of your mark, like on a cracked egg, ready to fall apart,
any, anytime now, but still holding itself together as the lines spread and spread,
Until I am finally broken.
Silently leaving deadly, indelible traces of your mark, like on a cracked egg, ready to fall apart,
any, anytime now, but still holding itself together as the lines spread and spread,
Until I am finally broken.
Your crack lines emerge in places impossible.
From earthen shell to the soul and heartland of me.
Breaking, smashing, pillaging anything and everything, until I am nothing of my former self; nothing of possible Me(s).
From earthen shell to the soul and heartland of me.
Breaking, smashing, pillaging anything and everything, until I am nothing of my former self; nothing of possible Me(s).
But even broken things can be beautiful.
With floods of tears and streams of blood I shall, I shall put me back together again.
I emerge not the ‘Me’ that once was, was to be or had been imagined with dreams for the future.
I rise as someone, something else entirely–Pained but persevering. Flawed but fluid. Broken but beautiful and believing that I shall conquer.
I am and will be the ‘Me’ that never was imagined.
I am the ‘Me’ that’s emerged from the ashes of pain.
I will not fit your cardboard cutouts or your nicely stenciled stereotypes.
With floods of tears and streams of blood I shall, I shall put me back together again.
I emerge not the ‘Me’ that once was, was to be or had been imagined with dreams for the future.
I rise as someone, something else entirely–Pained but persevering. Flawed but fluid. Broken but beautiful and believing that I shall conquer.
I am and will be the ‘Me’ that never was imagined.
I am the ‘Me’ that’s emerged from the ashes of pain.
I will not fit your cardboard cutouts or your nicely stenciled stereotypes.
And I am not sorry.
To survive, I change. Constantly.
As the monster morphs so will I – imperfect still, but ready to give bloody hell in all battles to come.
As the monster morphs so will I – imperfect still, but ready to give bloody hell in all battles to come.
Have you written a pain poem? Why not add the link here in comments so it can be included here. It's also a great idea for a heartfelt unique post.
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