Category Archives: Poetry

What does it Matter?

via Daily Prompt: Relate

I was once asked when I shared a very private poem in a safe group if I would ever share it publically. I responded no, I never want to hurt anyone. He argued that hiding from the issues never solved them.

Researching today about ways to help my emotional exhaustion to the situation I find myself, the article claimed that keeping quiet helped to keep the whole process stigmatized.

Relating to the ongoing Opioid Crisis elicits embarrassment and fear, the fear of speaking out! Will family get mad at me? Maybe, but I am exhausted as I am on the front lines, bullied into silence, and much worse. I am not alone in this situation, some understand as we talk and commiserate. Others, however, are in denial and do not know where to turn either.


What Does It Matter?

Thirteen almost fourteen years ago,
she had hip replacement surgery.
80 at the time and in pain,
what does it matter
if she becomes addicted?
She’s been taking care of herself.
Who were we to step in
and override her wishes?
Living out of state at the time,
I came back for four weeks
to assist in her recovery.
First sign of trouble during her checkups,
I was forbidden to speak.
She continued to be in pain
claiming something wasn’t right,
but never getting it fixed,
She was 80 and in pain.
She functioned well
driving to church, hair appointments, ect…
no accidents, no dysfunction out of the ordinary.
We suspected but
what does it matter?
Several years went by
health issues came and went:
skin cancer, breast cancer, and bowel obstructions
with them radiation, surgery and treatments.
But opioid addiction?
She’s 80+ and in pain.
What does it matter?
Six years ago, we moved home.
Family gave her six months to live.
Her friends had several driving accidents.
She voluntarily gave up her car
if I promised to take her to her appointments.
A hospital stay – for what?
I no longer remember,
too many hospitalizations.
Addicted? Pretty sure!
She’s 85+ and in pain,
What does it matter?
Her first opioid no longer
providing adequate relief.
Six to eighteen months
to get it worked out.
Fentanyl patch, the miracle worker
this time around;
good, bad and ugly.
Accidental overdoses
visit after visit
trying to get it regulated.
It required a pain specialty clinic
only good for three years.
More hospitalizations
repeatedly asked was she’s addicted?
Only used what the doctors approved,
she replied,
as if that was a valid answer.
She’s 90 and in pain.
What does it matter?
Another round of hospitalizations,
Perocet, the new miracle
according to her.
Pain level inconsistent
three years later.
Teeth used to be white & beautiful
even at 80, now
gray and full of cavities.
Some dentist ignore
Others treat – pain either way.
Again, what does it matter?
Spinal fractures – frequent
as her spine is now mush
probably a side effect of opioid use.
So again, what does it matter?
She cries and manipulates
imploring me to make sure
we say and do whatever it takes
to secure her “meds.”
Dirty, slimy and a host of other horrible
adjectives describe me and my emotions.
My daughter is asked if
she takes grandma’s pills.
She does not and has not.
What does it matter?
Two hospitalizations in three months,
bowel obstructions!
The last one three and half weeks ago,
Surgery at 93, not an easy thing.
Pain relief clearly not adequate,
Recovery even harder
because she’s past medicine tolerance.
Not enough oxygen
readmitted to the hospital
because opioids suppress breathing.
Pain management cutting her back.
Pain all the time now,
not wanting hospice.
Crying for more meds constantly,
nowhere left to turn.
So why did it matter?
Family relationships strained and stretched,
Denial and blame intertwined.
So thirteen years ago,
Knowing what we know now,
Would we answer differently the question,
What does it matter?
While trying to pressure me into begging
pain management to up her dosage,
a family member asked me,
just days ago,
What does it matter?
So have we learned nothing?
What does it matter?
I guess it depends on who you ask!

©2017 Kim Hewison



One-Way, a Poem

via Daily Prompt: One-Way

One Way

There is only one way in life, that’s forward.

As much as I love looking back, I cannot go back.

Some days I would love to visit again.

But alas I do not have a time machine.

I do not want to live the entirety again.

A lot of pain and suffering were experience

to bring me to this date and time.

As I look forward, I see more pain and suffering.

It’s a simple fact either we move forward or we die.

While there are seasons in our lives,

where time feels like it stands still,

it is only an illusion.

Life feels so overwhelming right now.

Got a kid in his last year of High School.

My mother-in-law, 93, has spent the last two weeks

in and out of hospital (mostly in)

needing lots of my time, advocating for her.

In rehab, for awhile, we pray, a short reprieve.

My parents, both in their 70’s, requiring lots of time, as well.

My job, well, I quit to keep my sanity.

But now, financial worries keep me up at night.

There is only one way – forward.

One day this will have past, I will look back

and want to visit with these dear ones,

who may not be with us then.

I thinks so, but there is only one way.

©2017 Kim Hewison





via Daily Prompt: Deny

A basic human response
to things we cannot handle
or at least don’t want to.
Modern day phrases like
“What happens in Vegas,
Stays in Vegas,” epitomize
our denial. However, recent
events cast long shadows
on the validity of that saying.
The friends and family of the
six hundred plus victims
certainly wish they aren’t
having to deal with
the aftermath of tragedy.
When my grandmother was diagnosed
with lung cancer, second generation,
she was in denial.
She couldn’t take the next step.
Denial is a powerful emotion.
It doesn’t like to be challenged.
I am in denial.
Our nation is in denial.
We are fighting for our very souls.
What is our next step?
Praying for clarity!
Is clarity the opposite of denial?
I think so.
Will clarity bring unity?
Struggling to find hope in
a system of encouraged denial.
What denial has taken root
in your heart?
©2017 Kim Hewison

Praying for all the victims and their friends and family, even the ones that don’t have physical injuries, of the Las Vegas Shooting. 

Athletics Gone!

via Daily Prompt: Athletic

Athletics Gone!

That’s too true for so many of us.
Every sport has former players,
who can only dream.
The reasons are varied.
Some factors within our control.
many are not.
Athletics a season in life
competing dreams
school, jobs, home, children,
too many to list.
Health and quality of life issues
for today, tomorrow & beyond.
Athletics does not equal
staying active,
which is the true goal
in this limited time,
we call our life.
Enjoying athletics a second time
through my children,
it’s coming to a close
three weeks to go.
Athletics gone
© 2017 Kim Hewison


13 Week Streak Summer Flash Fiction – 3rd week – edited

Week three of Thain in Vain and Drafty Devil bringing us the 13-Week Streak Summer Flash Fiction challenge. 500 words, one story using the prompt, enjoy!

This week the prompt was more difficult for me. So. . . I took a different approach. Hope you enjoy!LongBlueLinePoem kim izzy n kimberhew sighed

I am sorry that some people have had troubles reading the poem. Here is a second version I created hopefully with better reading capabilities. Thank you for letting me know. Hope you can enjoy now as well!

Long Blue Line.jpg

Kim Izzy

We’re Still Family

We're still family 2017kimberhewComplicated relationship can make explanations boring. My family and I seem to be in a season of trials and loss. A couple of weeks ago, we experienced the pain of a love one dying, which is never easy but living 750 miles made it impossible for me to visit him during his short but intense illness.

There will not be a traditional funeral service either. So, I wrote the following poem to express my grief.

Praying sorrow doesn’t dark your door any time soon,


Gone, But Not Forgotten

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Gone, But Not Forgotten.”

I have enclosed the photo  of our former home. We were the lucky ones to sell a house in less than six months in 2011(in the US). Upon sharing the photo, I felt the need to share the poem I wrote during the process of selling it. Our memories of this house are strong, bonding my family.

Our house distance

Help – Family Needed

 by Kim Hewison

My house needs a new family

It’s time for us to be moving on,

Back to where we came from,

Six hundred and seventy miles away.

It’s been a good house,

Warm in winter, cool in summer,

Protecting us from storm after storm,

Solid under our feet

When the earth shook around us,

It’s heard our laughter echo off it’s walls,

Sheltering us in times of sorrow.

Time to say good bye.

Time to hear the pitter-patter of new feet.

Digging for Roots – Home vs Home

In response to The Daily Post’s weekly writing challenge: “Digging for Roots.”

“In this perpetual tug-of-war between now and then, finding the footing to develop a sense of home is difficult, if not impossible, particularly for those who may find themselves stuck between cities, states, or countries.”

Home vs Home Kim Hewison Nov 27, 2014
Home vs Home
Kim Hewison
Nov 27, 2014