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Sunday, 2 October 2011

Brain Tumour

Hugely disliked
when he could see,
his subject more so -
Latin Grammar. He,

harsh disciplinarian,
"cold fish"
who hated boys.
That was the general view.

Then came the tumour
and the head's announcement:
he'd not return.
Relief was palpable.

It seems he'd left
in the head's study
blank sheets of paper
for Latin test results.

Then came the change of plan,
the brave experiment:
he would return,
though permanently blind.

The head explained:
success or failure
would be down to us.
Cooperation key.

He hadn't changed:
he still was Mr Judge;
knew which boy where
was throwing paper darts;

whose homework book,
still blank, was on his desk.
He still could throw a piece of chalk
to hit the talking boy.


kaykuala said...

A brain tumour, it's a touch and go. and survival is slim. Life is often cruel to some for no apparent reason!
Great verse!


Isabel Doyle said...

I detect some compassion in your lines, 'cold fish' or not.

I hope you don't mind Mr King, but I have taken the liberty of putting a link to your March poem 'Trees' in my post today. If you object I will remove it forthwith.

Best wishes, Isabel x

sunny said...

hi mr dave,sunny here again,the poem you wrote is really good.especially its name.

jabblog said...

Extraordinary - and I agree with Isabel.

Totalfeckineejit said...

I like this one Dave!

SG said...

The man must have been a fighter, I like the subtle hint at his resilience. Have come to blogland after a while, love the makeover.

Mary said...

One must feel compassion for even the most miserable person when they get something like a brain tumour.

Carl said...

I agree with Jabblog and Isabel. Wonderful rwriting a great portrait and there is some respect for the courage and the teacher.

sunny said...

thanks Sir for your comment,actually i wrote it as fun,the bankers better know that we do not trust thats why they hung a chain with their pen:)
as concern to me,i do not have any account:)

JeannetteLS said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Windsmoke. said...

Very enjoyabls and compassionate poem about a most nasty subject because a work mate of mine was diagnosed with a brain tumour but refused to have it treated after much urging by us, sadly he passed away not long after :-).

Madeleine Begun Kane said...

Very well done!

Muhammad Israr said...

superb :)

well is there anything in the world on which you cannot write a poem? :)

Dave King said...

Yes, you are right. A friend of ours died of one quite recently. Left two young chldren.

Compasion, yes. I did have a sneaky regard for him, even before the illness. After his return I grew to admire him. I cannot honestly say that I came to like him greatly. I* thought he had an undeservedly bad press.

I am more than happy for you to have linked to my poem. Thank you for the honour.

Thank you for this.


Welcome. Good to have your comments. Hope you settle happily in Blogland.

Yes, I agree. Indeed, I think one should perhaps feel compassion, full stop. I have long had the feeling that if the full truth could be known about everyone of us we would all come out about equal.

Thanks Carl. It's difficult to recall the nuances of feeling so far back, but as I recall them now they seem to match what readers are finding in the poem.

Understood. Thanks.

Sorry to hear. Our friend (see reply to kakuala) did have all the treatment possible. Difficult to know what is best sometimes. The big differene, perhaps, is that Mr Judge's was operable.

Thank you very much.

I need time to think about that, but I'm sure there is. Thanks for responding.

Helen said...

I have lost three friends to cancer of the brain ... I love that you wrote of a teacher who returned, intact ... without the benefit of sight.

Christine said...

such resiliance - and humour!!