reshape wounded heroes,
make a face worth living with again.
He rescued people from childhood
deformity, ravaging disease
to face the world anew.
Now the surgery fills with ageing
prima-donnas, forgotten actors,
last minute’s discarded It girls,
Clamouring for attention, for
nips and tucks to buy
back a plastic copy of their youth.
He pulls back living flesh
creating hollow masks
from which old eyes will stare.
His fingertips do not have the skill
to heal away their
paralysing fear of life itself.
Previously published in Poetry Scotland
Transformation for Totally Optional Prompts
21 comments:
NICE Blog :)
indeed, it's the minds of those people, not their flesh that needs healing...
excellent
excellent!!! what a perfect choice of subject matter...
Am I the only guy who thinks age is beautiful?
Society has so much to answer for
Love the line "plastic copy of their youth".
A well-worked write!
Gemma
Yes, I like plastic copy of youth too.
I put it down to being too material as a society. Not enough spirituality, or bonding with others, nature or - most importantly - cycles.
Great take on the prompt! This asks good questions. Materialism has taken over healing and no one seems to care about any more!
changling
oooh, oooh, oooh, and wasn't it a long way down. what happened to this gifted surgeon that he left the saving work to repair the prima donnas et al? and how is he saving his own face?
Noah, you're awesome.
So many images here are very strong. I also like:
creating hollow masks
from which old eyes will stare
I like the questions this poem raises about attitudes concerning age, death, and beauty, and values in general. Great work!
nicely done
So good. Love the plastic copy of youth and the last stanza.
No wait, visit my other blog for poetry.
How true! The last line really sums up the whole thought.. Nice one.
Growing old is a gracious gift that some people will never embrace. Great use of imagery.
great poem and statement. and when he is asked what have you done lately for the children...?
Brilliant - contrast and narration
What a fine injection (if you will forgive the pun) of reality. Sad that so many have forgotten the idea of growing old gracefully.
"His fingertips do not have the skill
to heal away their
paralysing fear of life itself. "
Such a perfect way to conclude.
Very thought-provoking.
I love this blog!
You hit the nail on the head with this poem. The old eyes stanza gave me the shivers. Really nice, Juliet.
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