Elis Elmo
London, UK
I'm about to turn 29 a few days after #Bedfest and it will be my 4th birthday entirely bedbound (unable to sit, stand or be transferred during that time). I have been unwell for 7+ years. I live in London, UK but am Welsh. I write poetry mostly about my experiences of illness and the internal emotional experience of having an illness that is often disbelieved. Reflecting this in poetry is empowering. I'm still a musician at heart but use apps on my iPad to have little moments of music making. Not quite the same as my trumpet playing days but my hope is to improve enough health wise to do more music making using my ipad.
Follow Elis on his website
Foundations
- by E. Elmo
Sometimes I hang one leg
out of my bed,
and feel the resistance
against my skin.
Foot planted on the ground,
leg pushing down lightly
– hardly a firm foundation
(but a foundation none the less).
My body remembers,
though it cannot yet engage fully.
Left overcome with loss,
I remain hopeful.
It remembers,
My body remembers
Deception
- by E. Elmo
I feel like a fraud
as if you somehow applaud
my impairments
and dismiss my humanity
like I should accurately represent
each bit of disability
and owe it to myself and you;
to leave no detail of my ability unturned,
lest you judge me not worthy
of your pity and concern
It's not pity I seek
so why do my thoughts reek
of contradiction?
conflating human worth
with affliction?
As if I'm being tested
And every human being is invested
In MY final score.
I KNOW the reason
I've taken each word
They've uttered
Leaving no memory uncovered
building layer upon layer
Of denial,
Forever putting myself on trial
holding close each time they didn't believe
Til my very core screams;
That merely to exist
is to deceive