A Poem that raised goose-pimples.

Yesterday, Sunday 4th sept '11 I went to the event Artournament Gloucester-Big chill. It was held in the New Inns and what a fabulous old building that is. Full of nooks and crannies, beautiful Moroccan lanterns and nifty little architectural details. It made it all very atmospheric. I did a slot early in the afternoon. I felt it went well. Three separate groups of people complimented me on my work which was so gratifying and the lovely Kim Fordwoh (who I had never met before and is an organizer of the event) came up to me, thrust a goose-pimpled arm at me and told me that my poem had done that. What a reaction! The poem was about waiting for test results in the fear that AIDS might result. I have included the poem below.
I didn't stay too long. As you may or may not know I am registered disabled and due to my health problems I have to pace myself. Even then I pay for my enjoyment the next day in pain and fatigue. So, I digress. In the evening Harry and I went to Buzzwords at the Exmouth Arms. Cheltenham. It was a particularly good night. The Buzzwords poetry competition, which I had raised advertising for, had gained many entries. They were of a very high standard. I so enjoyed hearing the winners poems and seeing so many new faces there. I hope they will continue to come along and enjoy this great evening of poetry. I was also in need of the poetry workshop. The guest poet, Angela Topping gave us some very good exercises. It was just what I needed to stimulate a brain gone soggy with working on a novel plot and proofreading a story for a friend. The end of the night was special. Angela France, our Buzzwords Organizer and excellent poet herself asked me to share a guest poet spot in July. I am delighted to do this as I really respect the Buzzwords poets and the way we have stuck with it for so long, improving and moving forward all the time. The poem that caused goose-pimples is below.



While I was waiting I thought of You. By Miki Byrne.



I sat in this place forty-eight hours ago. It has been the longest
two days of my life. I still have the little round plaster in the crook
of my arm where the nurse took blood. It bled a lot for such a little
prick. I thought of you. I gazed at the garish posters. Syphilis,
Chlamydia, Gonorrhoea. They sounded like Greek goddesses
wrapped in floating robes. Robes...Sheets…shrouds…corpses. My
mind made connections, screaming inside my head. Billowing until

I felt that they would pour like sludge from my ears, swoop up from
my gut and whoosh out of my mouth in a hot fountain. My eyes were
Already leaking. A blue–clad nurse trotted by, paused and said kindly,
“It won’t be long dear”. That small gesture nearly killed me. I gasped
for breath. Was chilled, yet sweating. Nausea slithered inside me like
a reptile. I thought of you-the one who craved excitement. Who secretly
slept around. Who eventually told me that he was bi. Had been for years.

Enjoyed both, the more the merrier-no orifice spared. No condoms
either. Like wearing wellies you said. I imagined all those fluids mixing.
Yours. Mine. Theirs. I thought of what you took from me. What you might
have given back. My imagination became a microscope. Showed me
time-lapse swimming sperm. Cells mutating, viruses swarming and tainted blood coursing through every organ in my body. I remembered scary documentaries from the times when I would watch TV in the false safety

of our long deluded marriage. I thought of you. I waited on a blue plastic chair. The man beside me was unkempt. His arms scarred from needle tracks. He gripped the arm of a girl and said he was desperate. I almost laughed. A reflex bubble of hysteria that rose unbidden and hiccupped painfully into my throat. My own desperation crushed me. Turned me to jelly. Robbed me of dignity.
I remember promising God that He could have everything I possessed, heart soul and body. If only I did not have AIDS.