Putney poet parodies stint at St George's Hospital
Waiting room reading material and catering facilities at St George's Hospital have been ridiculed in an anthology of poems.
Eddie Forde, from Cambalt Road, Putney wrote the hilarious creations after a short stay at St George's Hospital in Tooting last month.
Poems such as Reading Matter in A&E and Too Much Froth Can Spoil the Coffee (or Pint) are "guaranteed to lighten the mood of the reader", according to the wacky wordsmith.
Asked how old he was, the self-dubbed "senior citizen" cannot recall his real age citing the pitfalls of the Irish registry system in the 1930s.
The Irishman has also penned Putney Poems, More Putney Poems and Christmas Collections, which combine his talents as an observationist and his love of Putney.
To read more of Eddie's work visit putneypoems.co.uk.
All proceeds from the sale of the poems will go to The Pluto Appeal at the Chelsea Children's Hospital.
"Reading matter in A&E"
Waiting upon the results of the tests and terrified. What if
They are positive. I had to accept that I am a born
Again pessimist in spite of my endeavours to
Adopt a more pragmatic philosophy as advertised
In ‘Feel Good monthly’ which gives out advice on ways
Of eradicating fear and depression freely and adequately
By way of clearing the mind with organic laxatives.
So instead of dwelling upon past mistakes and time
Wasted on lost loves or life long friends many now
Dead or scattered all over the globe all terribly successful
Never to be seen again I shall concentrate on evaporating
The inner self of doom and gloom and not be so remiss and
Parsimonious otherwise I could end up cutting my throat
With a pen knife supplied on the last pages of ‘optimistic
Life’ which guarantees it will work successfully if all the advice
On the previous pages (or money back promised) has
Failed to obliterate the nature which I have inherited.
"Admission to A&E"
There was a man with a grimacing face who happened
To hate the human race. And a woman who had tripped
Over her lace doing her face. A young inebriated fellow
Who said his life was a waste of space. A bloke you’d have
Thought lived in the woods the type you’d swear was on drugs.
A couple with impeccable taste demonstrated by the Dior she
Wore which grace the floor. She cried like a Convent girl
Not because of pain but for the shame of having to go to A & E.
"Old Masters at A&E"
I am wheeled along busy corridors where pictures
Adorn the walls largely ignored by patients
Preoccupied with life and death issues often depicted in
The hanging prints which must have the old masters
Turning in their graves to be associated with such a
So let’s hope That instead of fobbing me off post haste as a hopeless
Case for it’s nigh impossible to tell what a lifetime of wear
And tear has done they will ponder upon my symptoms
As the artist did upon their paintings which
Grace the walls as I am pushed along not knowing
Where I am going or what’s about to befall me
"A Broken Machine in A&E"
I know its a bit of a tall order
To expect the drinks machine to be
Working but with all the money
Spent on the National Health you'd think
You'd be able to get a cup of tea in A&E.
No matter how many times the machine
Is kicked or banged it lays dormant. Like the
Souls slumped in chairs who for want of care
Stare into the abyss wondering
Why they are there. With all the staff
Floating about surely there's someone to fix
The machine. Or are the carers despoiled from
Soiling their hands. Too grand for manual work
Leaving it all to Johnny Turk. Certainly in the
Communist states the poor and great shared
The toil but not necessarily the spoils. History does
Come round. So perhaps one day I'll be able to get a cup
Of tea from the machine in A&E. It was
In working order when opened by Her Majesty the
Queen and would surely be rectified if she were to
Pop in again with her welcoming smile.
"Too Much Froth Can Spoil the Coffee or Pint"
Lots has been said about the difficulty of getting a
Bed. So I was as jubilant as if I had won the lotto when
The promise of one came through. And when I was sped
Along in a wheelchair listening to the 'Carry ons' of the
Porter who did karaoke and Elvis impressions to entertain
Himself and the consultants doctors nurses auxiliary
Staff and patients. It's hard to accept at this late stage
In the proceedings that after all the money spent on the
National Health that such characters are so badly