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Narrative Health Poems | Narrative Poems About Health

These Narrative Health poems are examples of Narrative poems about Health. These are the best examples of Narrative Health poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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If You Have A Sleep Disorder

If you have a sleep disorder, I strongly advise that you have it checked Apparently, if it is serious enough, it can even lead to death Was diagnosed with very serious "sleep apnea" a while ago The treatment, is extremely difficult to get used to Ever try sleeping with two plastic thingies stuck up your nose I guess I'll get used to it eventually People that have been using a machine like this for years Swear by it and tell me the results will be fantastic... like night and day But I must be patient and persevere. It will take a little while to get used to Really? Are you saying eventually I won't notice these thingies up my nose? Maybe if I drug myself till I think I'm a fairy princess Or a famous Shakespearean actor in tights I'm willing to give it a shot! Oops! Sorry, lost my train of thought there The thought of me prancing around as a fairy princess Has always kind of appealed to me... oops! I mean, as a Prince Charming Now back to my sleep apnea, wish me luck It's supposed to make me more rested, sweet and happy SO GET OUT OF MY FACE TILL THEN YOU GUYS! We must be patient, this is not going to happen overnight! © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison

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The Drying Of The Ink

No longer at desk the typewriter has been given 
it's final rest.
As he cant recall the day or year.

The once strong mind is closed the body
but a museum or tribute to what once was.
he his home but locked within himself.

Vist's from thoose who once knew the man 
are like people viewing a body at a wake.
he calls from within the shell for for release.

Yet his lips will not move his voice never sounds.
Inside he burns for the chance to run as the river
chases the sea.

To be the man they never knew and the one he 
could admire and both despise.

The page sits in typewriter like a willing 
eager lover in bed. 
Waitting in stockings that cling to delicate thigh.
the tears escapes it's minds prison.

He thirsts for it like a drunk for that morning drink
of whiskey waitting hands held togather trying
to keep from shaking.

He sits as a painter without hand.
watching the most beautiful sunset fade without 
a chance of ever capturing this moment.

The ink is drying he feels it everyday.
Soon he hopes like the dust that does gather
he will be swept away.

Copyright © John Patrick Robbins AKA Gonzo

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Alone in a Hospital Room - An Alzheimer's Song

Don’t you remember, love, how we danced that first night;
beneath the sun’s rays, toes dipping in the cooling sand, 
to the tune of our favorite song –
with me humming the best I could – 
(I sounded terrible, but you told me I sounded divine, remember?)
while falling all over myself, and your delicate feet; 
and you, trying so hard not to laugh as I made such a fool of myself!
Did you ever think we would go 
from being love-sick teenagers dancing on the beach, 
to a couple of old-timers reminiscing 
about our best years – our long ago days together? 

Sweetheart, please…
If there is any part of that teenage girl 
left within that beautiful head of yours…please; 
please, just look in my eyes as you once did…
look at me, sweetheart…
Don’t you remember? 

My love, do you hear? 
They’re playing our favorite song…

*Inspired by Izzy Gumbo's Solfege Contest
I really hope I did this right! :)

Copyright © Kristin Reynolds

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The Tale of the Dirty Dick

Girls, if you ever find a man of great persistence
Listen to your ******, and say NO! with adequate resistance
You see chicks, when a dude gets a hard dick
If it's dirty, it can make you super sick
Painful pisses and cloudy urine will follow suit
All because Dirty Dick Man wanted to discharge his root
So, ladies, beware...there are diseases out there
No Dick gets serviced until it's clean and faire
Run, scream, shout, "Spank your ****ing monkey!"
Please, I beg of you, do as I now  propose
Keep your ****** sparkling clean-never let it decompose.

Copyright © Jennifer Young

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Making Lemonade

When you're walking Scuffling along in trouble's shoes Head hanging low Mumbling moody blues Well me, I'm making lemonade Why can't you Taking bitter adding something sweet Maybe a smidge, no a heap full of hope Heck, by days end I'll mix it up Movin' straight to, getting crazy in root beer floats When all you see is red Awful thoughts pound your head "Honey do this, honey do that" I'm sitting back Feet up, sipping lemonade again You look my way and say "Boy, he's got it made" Not so my friend I just taking my lemons And making me some lemonade instead There's so much "other time" To have your little gripes Or your petty cries But, now let's toast away the grind And partake in some lemonade on ice You've come this far "And guess what? You've got your health" Check your pulse you're still alive So change your ways Brother, embrace the lemons Squeeze fresh into winner ala mode And "live baby, baby live! in lemonade days "Ahhh ... such sweetness"

Copyright © Michael Smith

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Copyright © JAMES HEATH

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The Willows

Tomorrow’s times are in these eyes of mine.
Away and far my world shall part.
The Seas shall rise from their depths of deep.
And in the glow of the shadows the willows will weep.
The Sun will rise as my days still come,
The glory, the power, it is the rains with Sun.
Tomorrow’s times are in these days of mine.
Far and gone my world shall bond.
The Mountains will fall from their heights they climb.
And in the glow of the shadows the willows will shine.
Tomorrow’s times are in these thoughts of mine.
Gone and here my world shall fear.
The Lands will separate the world by Sea,
And in the glow of the shadows the willows will be.
Tomorrow’s times I know are mine.
Here it is that I fear I’m near.
My Land, my Seas, my Mountains of plain sight,
And in the glow of the shadows the willows shall shed their light.

®Registered: Ann Rich 1998

Copyright © Ann Rich

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Me, Myself, and I - (Part 1)

Hello Friends... I suffer from Severe Bi-Polar Disorder and this submission was inspired by 
actual events that occured during one of my especially critical manic episodes. Be sure and 
read Part 2 to complete the poem and leave your comments on the Part 2 submission. Thank 
you for allowing me to share my pain for pain shared is pain diminished 

Me, Myself, and I...

“There are things that concern us,”
		Consensed my “Selves” in earnest
““We” fear that “I” have succumbed to delusion”

“And after careful deliberation
		It is with much hesitation
That we choose to delineate upon this confusion”

“Fact is your intuition
		Is riddled with superstition
And your judgment leaves much to be desired”

“So you leave us no recourse
		Don’t push us to use force”
It is then that the “I” was summarily fired

I exclaimed “By whose authority?” Response, “Rule of majority”
“The “Myself” and the “Me,” (forthwith the “We”), are experts in our field”

“And with much technique and time
		And some forays into the sublime
The nature of your malady will be revealed”

“So to keep yourself from having a fit
		Step back and just calm down a bit”
“We,” they said, “certainly have this under control”

“We swear this won’t hurt at all”
		Then I felt my inhibitions fall
Still I said a prayer to God that He keep my soul

You know, fact is I do feel off axis
		As evidenced by such parapraxis
As this prose that I, (or is it “Us”), seek to pen

And with my mind feeling numb
		I finally chose to succumb
And allow the “Me” and the “Myself” to begin

And then came questions in a flurry
		Answer, answer and please do hurry
Not one moment of respite did they give

They pushed and they prodded
		With every “T” crossed and “I” dotted
My mind felt like it had gone through a sieve

And all this psycho-analysis
		Is causing my mind paralysis
The questions, can you stop with the questions please

“Yes, oh yes indeed
		I do believe we have what we need
To make an attempt to identify your unknown neuroses”

Copyright © James Burns

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Me, Myself, and I - (Part 2)

Hello Friends... I suffer from Severe Bi-Polar Disorder and this submission was inspired by 
actual events that occured during one of my especially critical manic episodes. Be sure and 
read Part 1 first so as to get the true gist of the poem and leave your comments here on the 
Part 2 submission. Thank you for allowing me to share my pain for pain shared is pain 

Me, Myself, and I... (continued)

“Your, (Or “Our”), symptoms seem to intermit
		And the fact that “You’re,” (“We’re”), a hypocrite
Tis no wonder we’re having such problems with diagnosis”

Then “I” had an idea so grand
		To dispense with this at my own hand
A self-inflicted coup de grace would be my prognosis

So while the “Me” and the “Myself” squabbled
		With courage newly cobbled
“I” spotted the dresser drawer and made my run

With fingers fiercely fumbling
		Whilst they continued grumbling
“I” produced from the depths of the drawer a shiny gun

And now my life, though ill-fated
		Was soon to be vindicated
This would affect us all equally the same

Would be no myself or me
		No you, him, us, or we
But an inclusive all would be to blame

It took me a moment to figure
		Out the safety on the trigger
Then “I,” (or “Us”), prepared to do the dirty deed

Then the barrel found my temple
		And as it settled into the dimple
A still small voice did my “selves” choose to heed

Hence a moment of clarity 
		Harkened me to posterity
And I thought what a legacy to leave behind

“Can’t we all find a way
		To save this miserable day
And avoid a broken body for someone to find”

And then deep within my soul
		I felt and heard a simple drum roll
And the differing sides of me just subsided

And with my mind now as one
		I worked to get this all undone
The whole business of this stuff I derided

And tis now true of fact
		That I survived this ordeal intact
And lived to raise my face unto the sky
And here now as it ends
		I find I’ve made good friends
With the “Me”, the “Myself,” and the “I”

Thank you for taking the time to share in my poetry. Please feel free to leave your thoughts 
or comments here on this page. 

J. Scott Burns...

Copyright © James Burns

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Losing Someone to Cancer

I did speak with them, seemed very confused.

Apparently from what I have been told,
the cancer has gotten worse, and has 
began invading the rest of the body…

The hospice nurse doesn’t,
think they will be with us much longer…

They don’t know where they are living, can't 
remember me seeing them recently, can't 
remember me talking with them yesterday...

I know that this is very depressing news,
and if it weren't for friends and family,
I would be going crazy…

For it is hard to lose a loved one,
whether it be family or friend…

Since we don't know, when that fateful day
will happen, we can only take it one day at a time,
I only hope and pray that they won't suffer, I would
 rather see them be in a coma, and not have 
the pain and suffering…

I know that sounds harsh, however,
I don't want them to suffer, I want them
 to go in there sleep….

By Sandra L. Hoban

Copyright © Sandra Hoban

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Hearing the Words

Although my voice rose in volume
his ears rejected the sounds,
unable to distinguish the words.

Speaking to his back,
I felt like a mime without a mirror.
My heart grieved at the loss,
no longer able to reach the one 
I had laughed with, and loved, 
all of my adult life.

But his eyes spoke eloquently,
his smile erased my anger,
and his kiss warmed me to my toes.

New hearing aids brought his world
into sharper focus and now the words
bounce off walls like cymbals on a drum.

"Three thousand dollars," he grumps.
"and I prefer the silence."



Copyright © Cona Adams

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Life's Little Secrets

Jack is my name, laughter is my game If I can make just one person giggle It's mission accomplished for me It's my goal in life in my retirement years I'm happy so why not let some of it rub off Everyone gets to where I am eventually Unless war or some unfortunate mishap Interrupts their journey along the way Personally, I've been extremely fortunate Never really suffered from any serious health issues Might say I'm possibly putting a jinx on myself If you believe in that sort of stuff... which I don't I put it down to good genes... A healthy lifestyle and exercise Once you adjust, the routine becomes a lot easier Until you actually look forward to the daily routine As you greet each brand new day I WISH YOU MUCH LUCK!!! © Jack Ellison 2014

Copyright © Jack Ellison

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Rummy's Mantra

“its ok“….he justifies it….”I have been hurt”
so he tosses back one more….seeking incoherence
that serves as his sanity….and his brand new bravery

it becomes his friend, as he swigs this rotgut…
takes control without a sound….(sneaky devil)
solemnly he stood on a blank street crying
into a wind that was too frigid to care
wounds too raw and rampant to console him
(in all his empty stark patterns and narcissism)

funny when you destroy pure love given freely
what is left is just a blind burst of bleeding
guilt and terror consumed his thoughts 
until he couldn’t face the eyes staring back
another chug and apocryphal bliss found
once again at the empty end of a lush’s swill

why not….when whiskey is warm…burns a bit
but calms the nerves and his are torn in shreds
(hasn’t got much too lose now does he)

“its ok“….he justifies it….”I have been hurt”
so he tosses back one more……seeking incoherence
that serves as his sanity….and his brand new bravery

he faces the world backwards in a prison bars jar
and sadly enough its lonely with steel walls 
(of your own making) as you bury your face
in a broken sand and the shoreline moistens
from your drunken weeping and wail of wine

poor man….who are you….does anyone know you?
stagger a little and sunken gray sockets bulge
Stooped shoulders and demeanor of a lost soul
sorrow fills my heart for you….as you waste a life
(thrown out like useless rubbish)
trashed by your own bruised hands and hollow cheeks

“its ok” he tells himself “I’ve been hurt”
so he tosses back one more…..seeking incoherence 
that serves as his sanity….and his brand new bravery

Copyright © Christie Moses

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Mind, Body, Soul

Thought is a given

Right and wrong are choices we must decide

Wisdom instead of Ignorance

Peace of mind brings happiness

What we eat is who we are and choose to be

Run, walk, it should not matter - it all counts in the end

So many choices; yoga, self improvement, it's all good

Look in the mirror - what do you see

Decisions, decisions, don't put it off - now is the time

Our bodies deserve better

Deep inside our Soul beckons for more

What shall you do

Copyright © Neal Churchill

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Not posting for a while

Due to health of Dad, I will not be posting new poems for a while.
Things are going downhill fast....
I will still read other poets when time permits.

Quality time spent with him is more important at this time. 
I do appreciate all of you for your support
on my scribbles and for the warm welcome 
that has been given me.

If you pray, I will ask for prayers for all involved.

Thank you ahead of time.

Copyright © Debra Squyres

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The poor child groaned
while his mother moaned
''Ah, he's possessed, 
oh, he's been 
Superstition bemoaned.

To the witchdoctor she 
and was back with 
murky potions
such yucky stinky lotions
those mythical 

The woman obeyed the 
wily witchdoctor
Placed belief in that 
traditional healer
and the poor child still 
but his mama no longer 
After two days of 
and no lessening of 
she thought he needed
something more potent
When all it turned out to 
was a toothache dent! 

But she would hear of 
no dentist
Like all quacks her 
had fooled her five 
For his spells and his 
held her too in a trance
Quite a weird weirdo is 
Beware the medicine-
Beware that vodoo 
magic and witchcraft
That survive on the 
gullible and daft.

Copyright © S.zaynub Kamoonpuri

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Mom's Malaise, part two

A couple of years later, at age 19, this farm girl married and, true to her Catholic
upbringing, began having children. She had four live births and four miscarriages over the course of less than seven years, long before the idea of “post-partum” depression was even a gleam of understanding in anyone’s mind.  After the birth of her fourth child, a girl who would grow up to study environmental sciences and eventually draw the correlation between that first atomic explosion and her mother’s first episode of mental, emotional and physical distress, that infant had to be taken by her aunt and uncle to care for lest she perish from failure to thrive because by this time, mom was so deeply depressed, she was unable to care for her newborn.  

In those days there was no such thing as mental health care, no understanding at all of how to nourish the brain or detox the body from the effects of poisons and radiation…for indeed these advances are only recently gaining traction and still only in the realm of “alternative health care”.  With no understanding of her condition, or of what would even constitute appropriate care, her state of mind and body continued to deteriorate. After more than one suicidal episode and losing her children to foster care while she entered a treatment and rehabilitation facility, she was eventually diagnosed as paranoid schizophrenic and manic-depressive, giving her husband sufficient justification to divorce her and blame her parents for not telling him that she was mentally deficient before he married her. Even the Catholic Church agreed and granted an annulment of the marriage that produced his four live children and four miscarriages while he served in the Air Force and left her to care for his children while he was away for years at a time overseas on unaccompanied assignments. But nevertheless, the marriage was officially annulled so that he could marry again sanctioned by the Church and his Catholic bride could continue to take unholy communion in mass.

Copyright © Linda Witt-King

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Home Remedy

Banished to the front porch
brother, sister and I lay, 
dispirited, on quilt pallets,

with knees drawn up 
to meet our chins,

spewing forth to the ground
the meager contents
of our aching stomachs.

Mom called it "Summer Complaint."
She took her third arm,
the garden hoe, into the woods.

The roots, scrubbed and boiled,
imparted a brew so bitter

we choked and sputtered
but drank, at her command,
with faces skewed, lips puckered.

Not the worst of Mother’s
home remedies brewed
in her country kitchen,
but close. 

Copyright © Cona Adams

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The Poop of Life

THE POOP OF LIFE The poop word is a replacement For the other four letter word You know the one that means poop The one you have most likely heard There is a lot of poop in our life That is really like our body poop Both are really a necessity for living Let me give you the comparison scoop The type of food taken in your body Or what is fed into your life for you Will certainly determine precisely What type of poop you’re getting in to If you let the poop get all built up You tend to want to push and strain In hopes to hurry and force it out That can only cause cramps and pain Slow down and take a deep breath It really is always best to just relax The more you try to lighten up yourself The easier it will be for the poop to pass It’s time to worry if you have no poop Or if you just can’t get that poop out Keep it fresh and make room for more It feels great when it is all cleaned out A stall full of poop has the best worker As Proverbs 14:4 suggestively does say So a good worker does poop a lot Please don’t let it pile up for days No one wants to step in your poop Or even wants to see it for that matter We need to clean up our own poop Every little particle or a tiny splatter It is important to remember To always wipe twice It’s like double checking And it’s really the best advice If the same old poop is left Just every where lying around It only attracts the flies and scum Those pests from every part of town At times there may be a lot Of just stinky hot air Then sometimes you get The real poop coming there There are many different types Of shapes, sizes and textures With the daily poop we’re given The variety of life is measured I could probably go on and on Even you may think of more, I know So I’ll leave you with this one last note Try not to get caught in deep poop though Florence McMillian (Flo)

Copyright © Florence McMillian

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I stumble upon a river
the way it flows and feels
I take my shoes off and run threw it
laughing looking up towards the sun
I wake up and it was all just a dream
my sister runs up the stairs
she slams her door
i asked her what was wrong
she looked at me 
She says "mom told me you were adopted"
at first i laughed as i thought it was a joke
I run downstairs to see my mom and dad sitting on the couch
"mom?" i say
she replies "its true we adopted you!" 
she got up and walked into the kitchen
"after all this time i thought i was yours" i say
My father gets up and walks out the door
My mom lays her hand on her forhead
Just dont worry about it  everything will be okay
"No it wont i say"
i felt fake like i wasnt who i was suppose to be
i just sat on my bed thinking about the whole thing
my whole life and who i should have been
I packed my bags that light and i ran away
leaving the less important things behind
i set out on a journey to find my real parents
I had my sister get there info. from my dads office
I took a bus to indiana and looked up there address
As soon as i found it i knocked on the door
A man opened the door
he said "who are you?"
i say "apparently i am your son?!"
"you put me up for adoption?" i repeat

He yells "ANNA!?, Some kid is here for you!"
i repeat the story to her as she denied it
She looked bruised and beaten up
I wanted to help her but the man hut the door on my face

I had no where to go now
So i started on a journey back home
But i never made it there 
I found that old river i use to go too
i stayed there for a few weeks until
i remembered the way back.
I found myself that day
I realized that i was fake but now im not because i know that i am just me not any of them

Copyright © Shayla Dendinger

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He walks around town
over size t-shirts
baggy jeans half way his butt
each day wearing a mysterious smile
today with this
tomorrow that
as easy as his wink
so they come and go

She thinks she is the It gal
Beauty and brains i am
Self acclaimed beauty pageant
She thinks the many she bed
illustrates the hotness of her brand
She forgot it is the cheap stuff
that sell-off fast.

Typical stories perhaps

But there is that of a graceful woman
loyal to her husband
a good wife
a great mother
a sister
a friend.
But her husband has no honour
He thinks being the alpha
one with all the pennies
his hood has a right 
to more than one honie
So someday
she is pregnant again
on testing
her D T C runs positive...

Then there is the brother
with a brother from another mother.
God forbid
they had an ugly accident
open wounds all over
blood spill on the other
and boom!

Or the midwife granny
she aids the young bride in the village
no one told her these things
she has no clue what surgical gloves are
So her hands goes in
the cut from last night
absorb the +ve blood
from the bride...

They are not just narrations
they are events that occur everyday
Somewhere as we speak
someone is testing positive
their fault?
But there is such a huge number
who will never trace
how the contacted the virus

In the two decades i have lived
always said i never had a reason
to take the test.
Until last evening
Nothing unusual 
just an urge
to know my status

So i took the kit
men am telling you
its doesn't matter if you are a virgin
a Shaman
or you "Holier than Thou" 
that test is scary!
Wait till the blood start to flow
you realize just how fragile life is
Another red line on that stick
and your life is changed for good
it is not the end of a life
its a start of a different
Something does change!

It got me thinking
how much we take for granted
The much we do not appreciate.

my test did turn -Ve
Glory to God!
But am telling you
last evening i made a resolution
a vow that as sure as well will uphold

I realized life is an egg
One right yes
to the wrong person
or one wrong yes
to the wrong person
and sometimes
a right yes
to the right person
and it cracks!

Life is precious
and i intend to keep mine that way.
I will never take
unnecessary risks with my health.
My body is your temple
and i intend to keep it holy
So help me God

I don't know about you
but i do have a word for you
take care
do the test
whatever the result
keep on living Negative


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Call The Maintenance Men

  I’ve lost it. I’m exhausted.
 I can’t handle another day of these
 Auditory hallucinations. Doors creaking
Open Voices carrying around basins. 
 These days with no sleep
are starting to 
Become costly,
 to my overall health.
Wait, do I need help? 
      Hold up! 

 Grab a wrench!
 grab your tool belt!
We’ve got to get this girl back to 
Stellar mental health !
Wait, I’m not a machine?
I said to myself 
They said it’s okay ma’am 
We’re trained in these sorts
Of matters better than anybody else
Feeling stressed you say, take a shot
Of vodka while we take a look at you 
Right away 
A little elbow grease and your brain
Won’t be on its knees anymore 
You’ll be back on your feet in no time 
Miss, we  can’t miss with our new  
And improved stationery kits.
Just relax and you’ll improve
It’s not like you’re the only one
Going through this.

Copyright © sara ribar

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It is Here Again

It is Here Again

By BJ Welsh

It’s raining and raining as requested
The thought I’ve just really digested
Watching and staring as the raindrops fall
Who do you think would miss me after all?

I sit and wonder without nary an expression
Days pass to weeks with only further digression
Time it seems is not on my side
The rain I pray will never ever hide

Rain used to be such a welcome sight
To clean the earth from dirt and its’ blight
Now I look for only grey clouded skies
Matching the look and sadness in my eyes

The rain it seems must never ever end
For which it is my only dearest friend
I seek it out with such joy and delight
Watching and waiting sometimes all night

The rain’s come again to see me through
This life of misery is well past due
It’s soothing and a welcome pleasure too
For which I have but very few

Tomorrow is another day for rain?
I can only hope I’m still here and sane
To live to see it is but a dream
I’m not long for this world, or so it would seem

Copyright © brian welsh

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Golden Age

Golden days of youthful frolicking remembrance
As I lie upon my bed and wonder the time
Watching as my LOVE of life deteriorates into a villianous pain
Alzheimers destroys her mind; abuse and lethargy curse her actions
Hate and destruction spew from a dry well of memories
Time stands still in this room three sixteen until the end of days
Family doesn't want to see her emotional outburst
Visitations become less frequent, nurses are jaded to offer hope
Talks of transfering the "patient" into a special facility
Remove the problem from our mist....we can't be bothered with her outburst
In this room is the shell of a life...once lived according to her plans
Memories live on in the descendants when time can find peace again....

Copyright © Doris Culverhouse

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All New Parts

In February, steel replaced bone 
in my right knee. In November,
they did the left. Two Januarys after, 
bone was cut away, and titanium 
replaced the left shoulder.
My jealous right foot took its turn 
a year later. That time,
it only took two screws
to hold the severed bone in place.

My new nickname is "B. O. B."
an acronym for Bionic Old Broad. 
Trips to the Arch set off alarms,
and boarding a plane became a hassle.

Arthritis is after me again;
my right shoulder is losing the battle,
my hands are in sad shape,
and I'm waiting for my hips to fail.
Before long, I may have all new parts.
One part grows weaker by the hour -
how long, you think, before 
they can do a brain transplant?

Copyright © Cona Adams

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Out of a dark-wet laboratory,I came amputated.

To grab a world out of my grasp.

When all my limbs are halted,comes a "god"

Off stylomastoid foramen,

Praying-pass the ganglion of difficulty,

Wielding,five headed- sword;all for me.

Upon my genu, I hail thee.O almigthy,

"pes anserinius major"

 By:Tutuola michael

Copyright © tutuola michael

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What's on the Cover

What's on the Cover
        by Amy Swanson

"Fat, fat, the water rat,"
the other children said - 
and she could never after
get that phrase out of her head.

Little girl would anxiously
await the time for play,
praying silently that they
would not tease her today.

Every recess was the same
and each day she would cry,
at times she felt so hideous
she wanted to just die.

She had to work three times as hard
to lose a little weight
while others could eat anything
that sat upon their plate.

She grew into her teen years
all too quickly she found out
that if her food did not stay down
no longer she'd be stout.

She knew that this was not the way,
a miserable eating plan;
but it made the teasing stop,
she even met a man.

She kept her secret very well
continued it for years
while going through life's motions,
hid behind her silent tears.

Folks would say "You're beautiful,"
but if they only knew
just what it took to stay that way
they'd have a different view.

Life goes on, and time went by
no matter how she tried
she never felt like she belonged
sometimes she sat and cried.

Society cares far too much
for lust of lovely things,
And those that don't like what they see
will quickly clip the wings

of someone else who won't conform
to this world's shape and image.
It matters not, their brains or heart,
it's more about the visage.

She raised her head and looked into
the mirror, with wet eyes
she shook her head and suddenly
she came to realize

she was as good as anyone
with so much love to give -
she'd died inside, a slave to scales
she now wanted to live.

She splashed cool water on her face
and made a solemn vow
today would be a fresh new start
beginning here and now.

This is not just one girl's story
many share her tale;
warnings of bulimia
oft met with no avail.

If only we could look beyond
the flesh of one another;
True value based on what's inside,
not what's on the cover.

Copyright © Amy Swanson

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Yolks and Whites

Yang Embryos Swim in Yin-Yin Seeds

I'm looking for a Theory of Everything
that might mean anything
for figuring out what to eat for breakfast.

Start with a taoist egg.

Did you say "toast and egg"?

Tao-ist Egg.

I doubt my eggs are religious.

No, but they are natural,
and contain binomial form
with regenerative ethological function.

So you say. Maybe my eggs have metaphysical syntax.  Would that work?

Philosophy, at its best, and most permanently encultured, has room for religion and spirituality, as well as science and nature.

OK, but I'm not absorbing this metaphysics of an egg.

Eggs are temporary organic incubators.
They function as a largely Closed-Set internal double-elliptically encoded information system.
Their interior boundary issues remain actively interdependent with their environ-mental boundary issues of general ecological risk and opportunity.
They respond to thermodynamic balance
at a cellular
and organic/holistic/holonic levels
of 4-dimensional  cooperative synergetic organization.
Eggs are sensitive to gravitational pressure
and have bilaterally limited tolerance levels for speed of change,
which interact with their relative temperatures.

Maybe I am lost in the forest of your analogizing
but this egg sounds more like an ego 
with some serious boundary issues.
Or maybe like a scientific,
or some kind of mutually immune, or defensive, 
anti-inductive while pro-deductive,
or paradigmatic boundary screen
of cognitive dissonance
protecting internal design process,
Still not seeing the Tao in this egg, 
or ego,
and incubator,
and whatever originates
and cultivates new life.

If Yang is the power of formation,
while Yin is bilateral flow and function
of teleologically positive nutrients
regeneratively composting with exquisitely timed delivery 
of sustainably eco-rooted function,
then which is this full-colored yolk
and which is this transparent white?

OK, yes, now I see the taoist, well-timed, egg. This begins to feel like egg-cooking class for a vegan. Now what?

An embryo is a "budh", 
if you are a Buddhist,
and a "bud"
in English.
If you imagine your ego-identification
as your egg's DNA yolk
being fed most eco-nutritiously 
by your RNA-inclusive 
SuperTemporal-Only Bilateral/Proportional
Not-Languaged/Eco Right-brained exegesis
of yin-squared = c-squared = e-squared = +/double-minus P-squared
that might be how a post-millennial Taoist
would design,
and research, 
and bicamerally nondually incarnate
comprehensively con-scientific polycultural co-operative co-arising consciousness,
co-regenerative enlightenment.

So, I am this Taoist ego-bionic balancing eco-logical eco-normative system.  
Homo Bicameral Sapiens as Eco-Nomials.

But, because Yang ego-bodies
are dipolar incarnations of Yin's eco-soul DNA intention,
Yin is Yang equivalent only as squared,
or double-negatived,
or double-bound,
or double-identified,
or both-and
as well as either-or,
coincidentally co-arising
negative correlates are dipolar 4-equivalent dimensional collateral
(please feel invited to re-binucamerally see G. Perelman's 0-Soul Theorem),
so HomoSapiens are bilaterally incarnated
as ego/binomial Left deductive/expiration
balancing eco/monomial [polynomial] Right intuited/inspiration
fractal-octave frequency harmonic
spacetime Common natural systemic.

Wow, dude, that's some really esoteric shit you've been smoking!

but sticking with generic embryonic beginnings,
a bicameral Taoist egg language developer
might re-paradigm "esoteric" as "eco-terra"--
Earth's ecological intelligence,
as ubiquitously displayed
in fractal-root structures
of regenerate temporal-spatial cellular development,
emerging from aptic-universal cultural awareness
toward a more aptic/synaptic balancing
bicameral unitarian consciousness.

Now you're saying we are a species of anonymous Buddhists,
and also Unitarian Universalists?
You know,
that "anonymous Christian" conjecture
by Hans Kung
really didn't get great reviews
in many multi-religious environments.

but Christianity is a theistically framed view
of our shared eco-identity,
our Original Story,
while UUs,
and Buddhists covenant spiritual principles of shared belief
as teleologically exegetical information;
an ecologic of Fuller's Universal Intelligence,
Yang-Form and Yin-Function, nondually together
assume gravitational synchronic purposes
as primal for secondary ego-satisfactory meaning,
for "Universe",
"Earth", and all DNA/RNA encrypted Earth Tribes
sharing a cooperative vocation
to balance our co-gravitational solidarity
with our eco-RNA harmonic default preference
for Win-Win mutually subsidiary,
reverse-hierarchical governance eco-norms,
electromagnetic with thermodynamic prime relational comprehension
consciousness that positive radiant convex
fractal-ergodic universal balance
remains eternally
temporally incarnating
and excarnating,
inhaling and exhaling,
double-negative gravitational concaving
bionic co-arising
octave harmonics.

I'm not feeling the love and passion
within this hard-shelled Taoist egg.

Fertility, rather than sterility,
producing love
rather than merely consuming life's essential nutrients,
these are timing,
tipping point,
temperature systemic
flow and function issues.

To Optimize Continuous Quality Improvement
of comprehensive egolove and therapy,
we cultivate equivalent confluence
with our larger eco-logical health values,
eco-justice intent
as eco-nomic polycultural/permacultural practice.

Polycultural Climax is our RNA-rooted vocation objective,
or full-yolked teleological purpose,
while Permacultural Design and Development
is our transparently shared ego-logical nest
holding deductive/inductive Left-Right brain co-dominantly arising meaning;
the opposite of cognitive and affective dissonance,
which is more like scrambling eggs.

Which brings us back to breakfast?

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck

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Skin I'm in Part One

Tough skinned -strong, take it and dish it out.  
Thin skinned - overly sensitive.  
Skin of our teeth -
struggle for life, survival. 
Skin defines and designs us, 
the skin we’re in, through pain, color issues, death and life.  

Skin-If skin could talk. 
Fascinating story. 
Not just color of skin but skin which is our body fabric, the material that wraps our 
soul and our innermost parts silky, splashed with water, warmth, cologne, love 
and labor-skin. 

yes john heck this is prose but...the skin I'm in Part One

Touch comes through skin and touch informs us of so much. The way people 
touch us tells us if they are comfortable with us and with themselves.  
It can be hostile, strident touch; rough, accusatory, disciplining, invasive or it can 
be sensual, exciting, invigorating, accepting, encouraging, loving, comforting. 

Skin Talk

too frequent breakouts, rashes, allergies, sores, impetigo, suffered 
embarrassment, pain and shame. Scars!  Coco butter for every nick and scrape.  
But my black knees and those scars embarrassing in
swimsuits or shorts 
legs were scarred with black spots.  
Marvin Taylor called me leopard legs in fifth grade and fifty years later, 
I remember the sting, shame and pain of it.  
Campaigned against my scarred legs with scrubs and other potions until the 
spots began to fade  and a sense of perspective...

skin challenges, burns, rapid tissue growth that should disfigure -yet the 
elephant man walks with dignity and grace in his could be monster face

severe acne in the face, severe psoriasis and yet their character and ways of 
dealing with these problems determine their real image, reflection and persona 
life is a gift that can not be determined by black spots on legs.  

Copyright © Rhea Daniel Dear

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breathing life into legalese

I, henceforth, known as the respirer, do
solemnly swear hereafter, to take you in,
in sufficient quantities to ensure 
continuation of the flesh's animation.

I additionally, do accede my heretofore,
essential need of your estimable service, 
and express my desire to continue our 
mutually beneficial, ok, parasitic, relationship

Being, as you are, substantive to well-being,
I wish to publicly, and, without reservation,
acknowledge, my sincere admiration for your
valuable and well known qualities

By any and all conveyances available to stated 
respirer, procurement of your services is
to be distributed to every cell of said being 
equitably and on an as needed basis until
such time as service is no longer necessitated

I, the aforementioned respirer, do in earnest, 
testify to my intent and necessity for 
a continual contractual relationship, with you
In short, you breathe life into mine

© Goode Guy 2013-04-26

Copyright © Goode Guy