Here is a dementia-related poem:
The chimp and the near-chimp
His head is not a man cave. It is far more. In this burrow, treaties are signed without him knowing.
His head drives the chimp and the near-chimp. The chimp with the high IQ and the struggling near-chimp.
In this burrow, he turns pages. Their printed words are losing their meaning. His brain cells see signals and numbers dance (on good days). Patterns forms, codes get set, and then break. The chimp is a smiling, sleek gift. A blessing to others. The near-chimp is trying to be these things.
The chimp imagines his final hours. Head in hands.
The near-chimp almost solves a riddle.
In this burrow, his true self lives. The chimp and the near-chimp both love others. The confused, weakening grip of the near-chimp and the defiant steps of the chimp. These are traits that belong to one man and one heart.
The near-chimp glimpses a memory. Holding his mother’s hand.
The chimp prays for a new medicine.
--
Paul Brookes also kindly posted this poem on his The Wombwell Rainbow blog for Dementia Action Week. See here:
Thanks,
Stephen