Best Disease Poems
The other day
you asked me my friend, who I am
I replied:
I am you in another body!
Yes, it is true
look, how much alike we are,
no matter what, the color,
the creed
the race
the status.
Look,
I am born and I die
I suffer and I enjoy
I love and I hate, just
like you!
I am a father, a brother, a son,
a mother, a sister, a daughter, just
like you!
Happiness I seek
family to raise is my wish
peace to find I look for,
just like you!
I long
I loathe
I fear
I hope
I bleed
I heal, just
like you.
I believe
I doubt
I accept
I refuse
I laugh
I cry, just
like you.
We are alike
we are the same
we are brothers...children of
a unique father!
Tell me,
my brother
my friend
my ally
why do we have to oppose
to fight
to hurt
to destroy and
to eliminate one another?
Are our seas really that narrow
our oceans that small
our lands so limited to
contain all of us?
or
is it the case that
our hearts are not big enough
and our minds not so wide-open to
enfold all of mankind?
Listen to me, my other self;
it is up to us to change this world we have inherited
with its virtues and vices
history and culture
flaws and merits
and
try to make it
better
nobler
kinder and
more caring
by:
obliterating harmful beliefs
demolishing injurious divisions
destroying detrimental distrust
annihilating racism and eradicating
the erroneous feeling of poisonous
superiority
for
to bring the dawn of a new loving world
a world of acceptance
of respect
of justice
of equality
of love and of
universal brotherhood
thus
with peace in our hearts
liberated we would be from past’s
deleterious tribulations
that
for myriads of years, have kept us,
fighting one another! *
© Demetrios Trifiatis
03 JUNE 2020
* Dedicated to the memory of George Floyd and to all those who
have fallen victims of racism!
R.I.P. for Justice would be served!
I watch a sunset
that I'd love to share
and nobody sees it but me
I'm scratching my head
in utter amazement
that nobody cares much to see
Things to accomplish
things to get done
a million things every day
And all of these things
have one thing in common
they manage to get in the way
"In the way of what?"
as you may well ask
"I'm doing my best to get by."
And oh, what a shame
so sad and so true
we squander our lives 'til we die
And doing their best
devoid of expression
their faces are empty and bleak
So busy, so dizzy
en masse, repetition
robotically, chronically weak
And what are they doing?
Yes, why such devotion
to this seemingly endless malaise?
They're taking a rain check
and storing up treasures
and longing for much brighter days
No time for a sunset
no walks in the park
no place for a soft ocean breeze
They march on in madness
a dutiful army
en route to their chosen disease
You have my voice that sings
My eye’s that love to see
My heart beating when it believes
My hand writing poetry of what should be
My steps walking boldly thinking of thee
My minds consumption of
vast amounts of time
My work that tries providing
Any attention that I can find
A victim of love
Happily and sadly am I
I am like Samson
Believing every lie
Being like Romeo
I’d surely die
What a substance is love
As reachable as the sky
With fears and rejection
That might cause my demise
My childish suffering
This disease called shy
Yet monotheistic my soul
Itself cries
Day after day this feeling
Will not die
Only one half of what
God says am I
Could you go with us,
My God and I
Could you put your hand under my thigh
Let me promise before I die
The climb of the mountian
That reaches your sky
Beaverish, feverish
hot Mrs. Cleaver wished
that her affair had not
given her clap.
Fast Eddie Haskell, her
boy-toy, that rascal, his
transmissibility
claims were all crap.
“Tickle me, pickle me,
say it’s not true, for if
you have the clap then I
must have it too!”
Doctors prescribed her some
anti-microbials,
Ward soon found out that she
had been untrue.
Beaver was curious,
Ward was so furious,
fake news of Eddie’s lewd
films made him snap.
“June, you’re so sensible,
incomprehensible,
that you could fall for that
con-artist’s crap!”
Friskiness, riskiness,
ratings were rising, but
not so surprising they
cancelled the show.
Frightened by content too
radiological,
sponsors said “Beaver” was
not apropos.
Once, I’d stood beside a man
Who, with heart and soul o’erwrought,
Silently searched for answers, but answers found him not.
His sister recently had passed from Earthly life to next,
And left her brother standing, filled with emptiness.
We stood within a classroom, throbbing with life and youthful confidence,
Listening to strangers speak of futures in terms of choice and providence.
When above the din of music and deafening teenaged discourse,
I thought I heard his spirit cry
“What choices do we truly have-when comes the time to die?”
How? and why? His queries all began
Echoing voices of a preceding time, to which my mind sped swiftly in reverse
To that moment when I’d stood besides another man,
Who, with sighing, held his sister in his thoughts, and in
Speechlessness did he with her converse,
Wondering, each, about his dying.
We’d stood within a bustling airport crowd,
Listening with half-ears to strangers chatting,
With boisterous busy-ness about their day’s importance.
While I, in their unawareness, sought a way to say goodbye
To a man whose life linked mine; by merit of our birth and love.
Fore’er, our hearts entwined.
I looked then to my brother’s face and thought
How does one rout this wretched misery?
Where does one turn to quell the pain?
What choices do I really have to make my loved one well and whole again?
From all cancerous affiliations, a remedy we then sought.
So now a brother and a sister stood, reflecting upon what went before.
From science and from God, we asked from both a comfort and a cure.
My friend, the questions asked by you
Were those the same by me,
And though we asked the questions,
The answers to the whys and hows
Unheeded they did go
Though in their stead One Truth was given-
It is not in the dying that choices can be made,
But in the way we do our living.
As yellow leaves wither in the autumn breeze,
only apathetic thoughts remain
in this nonchalant existence of
my diseased body and over the hill mind!
It reminds me a time of agility,
A time of struggle and celebrations,
An age when dreams of a better future bloomed,
And leaping up those stairs to pluck the petals of success.
The illusion of youth, believing I would remain the same forever,
My beauty, once admired by the mirror,
My body, that lied about its boundless strength,
And the willpower that upheld my beliefs!
Now, my poor mind, dreadfully distressed,
on the fritz of my worn body parts.
Here I am, at the dusk of my life,
panting and staring at the steep stairs
called ‘rest of my time’!
I wonder, are there any tears left
to cry over the memories of my vigorous days?
Or, has time swallowed even the sorrow, leaving only silence?
Violent as the gleaming blade
Of a vicious criminal crazed
Ferocious as the lion’s jaw
Lingering on an innocent calf
This wicked affliction forces
Its teeth into the harmless heart
Bites wildly into vulnerable flesh
With haste to destroy and devastate
End the life that it penetrates
With a hatred that is inhuman – merciless
Ruthless as the worst of the worst
Abolishing hope as it grows and grows
Breaking hearts and wills with its
Lack of empathy and sympathy
Luring dreams into the night, darkening
The promise of a happier day,
Filling minds with dread and depression
Anxiety that lingers even after
The moment has passed and time
Struggles to alleviate the pain
The widespread anguish of knowing
That this big malady holds all of tomorrow
Painting the thoughts in hues of doubt
Disillusionment and discouragement
Feelings clouded with silvery fog
Lingering on the emotions in shimmering
Waves of deathly black sorrow
Breathing fear through the spirit
And whispering in tones of weariness
Regret and mourning come to the heart
Even though some might tell you
There is hope.. a flicker of courage
The possibility of healing, recovering
From this demented beast with its claws
Of deathlike horror playing across
The light that reminds you life will be brighter
Sometime,… after the treatments
The drugs and cures that are meant to repair
First seem to destroy every awareness
That there will be a breath of fresh air
A new dawn – a second thought, the color
Of joy and promise and miracles prayed for
It is only a moment that comes and goes
A flicker of optimism amid the skeptical thoughts
When you realize only God knows the outcome
Of this feared disease, cancer… the ending
The sequel will reveal what only He sees
And I know, it is only God who can spread
Healing where the cancer cells have spread
Death and destruction… doubt that dissuades
Even the inkling of faith that will tell you
God’s love is still alive and well, sending you
Inspiration, hope and faith that can reveal the truth….
Cancer can kill the body but the spirit is still God’s
His love is the best treatment for this disease
The best remedy for any need
With God, all things are possible – just believe!
Cancer Ivy Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke
June 1, 2021
Dull As A Disease
I am sitting in my Dorchester lair,
Behind the door I do feel your mien,
When my poetic muse is in apt flair
You look real as life, my amore mia.
When I am surfing on the internet,
You are there in my click I envisage,
When I initiate to scribe sonnet,
I see you duly embossed on the page.
Sighing, wry face, lips as dry as a leaf
Your green blue deep eyes upraised fully,
Neither the death kills me, nor does the life,
Your very silence eats my soul and body.
Dull as a disease, I die of a thought,
Do not you fancy the same as I ought?.
============================
Date 21-10-13
Dr. Ram Mehta
Third place win
Contest: I Recall by Frank H.
Note: Sundowning – Most commonly in Alzheimer and Dementia patients, Sundowning, is changes in behavior that get worse in late afternoon, evening and can even last all night. Patients may be agitated, confused, unable to sleep; it may appear in other forms of disruptive behavior.
Eight sleepless nights, pacing non-stop;
legs, knee-bent, dragging toes are scraping carpet.
Enduring a painful back; each breath drawn
makes it throb and exhaustion’s in control.
I can’t sleep until he sleeps;
must stay awake in case he falls.
I hold my breath to stand;
it dulls the sharp stabbing pain in my back.
I swallow another migraine pill and
pray for him to fall asleep; he does not.
Respite eludes me; caregiver to a dementia-mind,
I collapse into a chair, dizzy and call myself an ambulance.
I’m drained, hungry and he’ll Sundown several nights.
I pass out and am brought around by an EMT;
my patient's oblivious to the fact that
anyone’s come into the house…
he paces…and paces…
Neglect
by Michael R. Burch
What good are your tears?
They will not spare the dying their anguish.
What good is your concern
to a child sick of living, waiting to perish?
What good, the warm benevolence of tears
without action?
What help, the eloquence of prayers,
or a pleasant benediction?
Before this day is gone,
how many more will die
with bellies swollen, wasted limbs,
and eyes too parched to cry?
I fear for our souls
as I hear the faint lament
of their souls departing ...
mournful, and distant.
How pitiful our "effort,"
yet how fatal its effect.
If they died, then surely we killed them,
if only with neglect.
She came from nowhere, mouse-like quiet
At first we thought it’s just a trick
But soon her powers were dark like night
We saw her strength cut to the quick.
Covidia came from foreign lands
But traveled fast with power and speed
And she was subtle with sneaky hands
She quickly knew our wants and needs.
Some ignored her presence here
And chose to be aloof and brave
They would never express their fear
Freedom was their cry to save.
Others feared with cautious worry
And wanted to precautions take
At first we thought there is no hurry
But soon we rippled in her wake.
Covidia forced a change in life
Restrictions limit what we do
Isolation and the daily strife
Removed the things we thought we knew.
She swept away our social life
She caused our isolation
She propagated grief and strife
A plague upon our nation.
Many chose to ignore her power
And haughty would proclaim beliefs
But on the deathbed they did cower
And beg for peace and just relief.
Respect her and her powers now
She’s ruled us for some time
But slowly we will find out how
To stop her on a dime.
A normal life returns someday
Covidia will be lost
Never forget the price we’ve paid
The death and all the cost.
Son, my mind is now full of holes
So I moved the memories to my heart
Locked them here and lost the key
To treasure them before they part
Hold my hand just like we used to
This time you tell the stories to me
Please remember how I've loved you
In cherished moments that used to be
One day soon I won't remember
It will be impossible to comprehend
I won't be able to recall your name
Know if you are foe or my best friend
They say I'll get angry without reason
In a long, dark fog where I can't see
Alzheimer's disease is a cruel robber
A thief that steals all memory from me
Quickly son, my best days are over
A cloak of confusion visits everyday
I can't find the words to express it
Behind these tears so much to say
I met a nice man early this morning
He was a most kind and patient lad
When he left he gently kissed me
Said, "See you tonight, I love you dad,"
Depression is a disease
A disease just like cancer
Some people underestimate it
“Snap out of it” is not an answer.
I may not have any open sores
Or lumps that you can see
They are all on the inside
And the pain won’t let me be
I have tons of scars
That covers my wrist
I lie awake at night and pray
That by death I may be kissed
It’s a real pain inside
People don’t understand
They are not willing to give
The love I demand
On the outside I look healthy
On the inside I know I’m not
The pain gets worse everyday
Even worse that I could have thought
I withdraw myself and put myself
In a place where I can’t be seen
All because life can be so
So extremely mean
If I go missing, then please don’t bother
Don’t worry your little head
Because the next time you find me
I may as well be dead
Her name was Nola
From Hispaniola
She liked to get her fix
On Coca-Cola
She liked to coochy-coo
With everyone she knew
But when she blew her nose
Then all her friends withdrew
At Corona
Corona virus
It's the hottest spot
North of your sinus
At Corona
We fell pell-mell
Ah ah ah
Don't feel so well
Ah ah ah, ah ah
His name was Lu Gan
He came from Wuhan
He liked to dance all night
As much as you, man
He liked to socialize
With all the girls and guys
But since he caught the bug
His mouth is catching flies
At Corona
Corona virus...
Her name was Betty
She was a free spouse
She liked to play all day
In someone's tree house
But she could not survive
When you turn sixty-five
You run a higher risk
That you won't leave alive
At Corona
Corona virus...
Her name was Miley
A human virus
I guess that's why she clogs
The human sinus
But when she caught the flu
She spread her germs on you
A way to make you sick
And make you angry too
At Corona
Corona virus
It's the hottest spot
North of your sinus
At Corona
We fell pell-mell
Ah ah ah
Don't feel so well
Ah ah ah
BUT YOU CAN'T TELL
Ah ah ah, Ah ah!
I started a Corona diary
today, recording what is happening,
and how it’s impacting my family,
as we adhere to social distancing.
There’s more than just one minor risk involved,
that causes us to give this germ wide berth,
to mitigate this problem, not yet solved,
impacting every life on planet Earth.
Most stores are closed, and factories are si-
lent, in a fateful effort to preserve
all lives, both young and old, as we apply
new rules, in hopes to flatten out the curve.
So, here I am ensconcing with my wife,
recording Covid’s changes to my life.