The high red blood cell count
tipped them off as it was detected
pulsing through his veins;
a thunderous fibrillation.
Like a thousand messages dispatched
to his outer extremities, all the charm
and amenities of life seem wasted
like a dish of soup tasted and left uneaten.
Spirit beaten and spitting blood,
the front dressing, crimson soaked,
spoke of his sadly grave condition.
© Copyright Walter J. Wojtanik – 2013
Written for THE SUNDAY WHIRL – Wordle #107
THROUGH THE EYES OF A POET'S HEART 
I think you just described one of the scenes my volunteer fighter-fighter guys see on a regular basis. And yet we have a friend who was almost declared gone, and with the briefest of finger motions …was brought back – and is now doing very well. So maybe there is hope for your guy…
Cheers, and a big Thank you for your visit.
Thanks to you as well, Jules. “My guy” is hanging in there. There’s always hope if you believe it.
Oh, Wow! I’m not a doctor, but it sounds like there might be a need for 911!
The disease in the High Red Blood Cell Count. The extension is a result of the words provided. Either way, a serious condition of which to be aware. Thanks for reading, Annell.
What a horrible message to erupt from inside..you capture the sense of chaos and bubbling..yet in a measured way which makes for an even more powerful read..
Jae Rose, we are the warriors of words. The power of our “weapon” is all in how well we wield it. Thanks for stopping by.
Wow, Walt. That is hard hitting. I can see how those words brought this about.
Pamela
Thanks Pamela. Didn’t mean to go so dark, but the “red” and “count” just melted together when I saw them. I have a friend who suffers from it and the name sounds too poetic for what it is. That was the direction; the journey followed the rest of the words.
Well, I’m so glad it’s not you!
That makes two of us, Laurie! Glad you stopped by.
Walt, this is indeed too much, not only like a call for 911, but a call for help for the thousands of volunteers who worked at the 9/11 site, all the while ensured by the Govt. (if not INsured) that the air quality was fine. Working without masks, asbestos flying like dandelion seeds. Notice then-EPA head Christine Todd Whitman immediately left the post “to spend more time with my family.” Didn’t see HER ass out there cleaning up rubble after she lied.
Sorry for the rant, but your poem was so powerful, I didn’t even notice the Wordle base. Really specific in describing lung disease, TB, and other ailments, and riveting. Peace, friend. Amy
Thanks Amy. Your rants are a part of your charm, and I wouldn’t want you to compromise that. We all hold the power in the way we use the words. Thanks for thinking mine have it! Peace.
Powerful poem and sad too. Not the best way to end a life.
Or start a morning! The words lead into some dark alleys once in a while. Thanks, Cathy.
“a thunderous fibrillation” is a great description, Walt. I had to look it up and now I know.
Thanks Irene. I knew what I wanted to describe, I needed to look it up myself to get the spelling right.
Had to look up the disease to find out what it was. So sorry for your friend who has to deal with this.
Not much of a way to “laugh with you” is it? My friend does ok, not as grave as the poems describes. Thanks for the visit, lwm45.
Great piece. I had to look up the disease.
I liked the tightness of the poem The lines “like a 1,000 messages dispatched”, “charm and amenities… wasted” and the inner rhymes of “like…soup tasted” and the “ …left uneaten. Spirit beaten.” You’ve pretty much showed us, not told us – through your visuals – what to feel. And I felt it. Again, great job with a tight budget of words in a tight poem. Randy