Best Femur Poems
The human skeleton,
is made up of 206 bones
By jove, they are hard,
as if made of stones!
The brain you think with
is in the Skull or Cranium,
the Maxilla and the Mandible
are for chewing bubble gum.
It's atop the spine
which has 33 Vertebrae in all
You're sure gonna break it
if there's a nasty fall.
The 12 pairs of ribs
act just like a big ring,
while 10 fix to the Sternum
the bottom 2 are Floating.
The shoulder blade or the Scapula
is joined with the Clavicle
How they organize the movement
Is another spectacle.
The arms have the Humerus,
the Radius and the Ulna,
The hands' have wrist bones
called Carpals (not made in China).
With Metacarpals and Phalanges
we complete our hand,
don't you forget the lower limbs,
upon which we stand.
The hip bones make the Pelvis
from which the Femur originate
If you gyrate it like elvis
the Patella is sure to break.
Tibia and Fibula
are there in the Shin
The Tarsals and Metatarsals
shape your feet as it's seen.
Our journey ends here
Let me take your leave,
Take good care of your bones
for as long as you live.
Categories:
femur, 10th grade, 8th grade,
Form:
When I was a little girl,
I went through the most traumatic experience of my life.
I was diagnosed with a deadly infection in my femur bone;
Doctors had never seen a staph infection as bad as mine.
My childhood was stripped from me.
I had been given a new life.
A life where being in and out of hospitals was normal.
A life where being in pain was normal.
My biggest fear should have been falling down and scraping my knee.
But, instead my biggest fear was wondering if I was going to survive.
I was in more pain than I could have ever imagined.
Surgery after surgery, but nothing seemed to help.
I was fighting a battle that no one understood.
I never understood why this was happening to me.
I was a kid and dealing with depression.
I wondered if I was being punished;
if I had done something to have made this happen to me.
I wondered if I would pass school.
I tried my hardest to fight through the pain and make it through school.
I was determined not to be held back.
It even came to the point,
where I had to have a teacher come to the house and teach me.
But, I was willing to anything to pass.
I had a great team of doctors;
and a team of not so great doctors.
I had parents that loved me and never left my side.
I was still a blessed kid with a great family.
I've been to several doctors since then and they all me tell me the same.
I'm going to deal with chronic pain for the rest of my life.
There are some days where the depression eats at me.
There some days where I can't even get out of bed,
because my leg is hurting so bad.
But, I made myself do it.
I was determined to graduate on time.
And I did graduate with my class.
And even though I missed to many days to count, I was never held back.
I graduated with my class, the class of 2016.
I'm determined to share my story with others.
I'm determined to prove to people;
that you're more than the pain you go through.
I'm determined to prove to people;
that nothing can get in the way of your goals or dreams;
unless YOU let it.
Your pain doesn't determine who you are.
Only YOU can determine who you are going to be.
Categories:
femur, childhood, depression, health, pain,
Form:
Free verse
1.
My grapefruit tanned
toothpicks
bow above
the five-day flattened
spot
in an olive shag carpet
tracing grandpa Leo's
blueprint,
with one encapsulated
toe –
this is the femur, this is
the head,
this is the fist, the ring
finger, the soul.
I search for any blunt
white quivering slivers
of Caroline's purported
fly fetuses.
2.
Huddling behind the
corpse
of an old hospital bed,
a framed photo
smoke browned and
wearing my toddler face,
watches
his children choke
hushed, broken
sentences
this will be yours, my
plate, separate the
holiday china…
an enigmatic language
that hovers in
smoke stretched rings
to wilt
upon the hallway
bulb.
3.
I am left
the ceramic cygnet,
and an ivory carved
dromedary.
These artifacts
plucked
from his porcelain
menagerie
that I decipher
through dust fingerprints
for
one small inheritance of
a memory.
4.
Tomorrow,
Aunt Rose
puts price
to his bibelots,
the olive shag carpet,
even cousin Amy's
plastic horse,
who was accidentally
left to pasture on an
afghan.
A silver plated glass cage
image of her past,
she says she will whittle
all of him,
from the
wooden
house
bones.
Categories:
femur, angst, death, family, introspection,
Form:
Free verse
I used to pass an empty house
On my way home from school
I was only ten years old then
I heard that older people lived
There
But I never saw them.
Found old photos
Showed them to Dad
Where’d you get them he asked?
Found them in the old house I said
Then he and mother spoke
In the privacy of their bedroom
I saw the shadows of their arms
Move
And point toward my room
This was the 1950’s
Times were different
And some things
Were just never talked about.
When the old house was torn down
I went inside
To look
And to explore
Kicking an odd piece of dirt
The soft rotted wood moved
And something flipped up
Bones
Some as big as my leg.
But it was the damp smell of decay
That I remembered
Vividly
Even at that time
When anything new
Was always exciting
This was different
I had not experienced anything like this before
But I would years later
Ten years later
A decade to wait.
I was In Country
Two tours
Separated from my group
Never found
Missing in action
But really I’m dead
Been like this for years
All that’s left
Of me
Are bone fragments
Part of a femur
And a scratch of faded cloth
Scattered over a vast green landscape
At the edge of a jungle.
Occasionally I hear digging sounds
Not the heavy shovel kind
But a gentle probing
Of earth
Someone intent on finding something
But not wishing to disturb
They haven’t found me
Yet
So I still wait.
I never got used to the damp smell of decay
But just the same I take solace
In that smell
Because it reminds me of
Long ago
When I was just a schoolboy
Coming home.
Categories:
femur, introspectionhouse, old, house, me,
Form:
Narrative
Sometimes late at night when the memory feels just right
I slip away to the window where the moon in her afterglow
patches the holes of my heart and shoals me to the light
While other dreamers still in slumber taut as their femur
lose themselves in restless sleep beneath the self
matches of light ignite my soul and raise me to the night
Like a belladonna with her purple berried hue and force
I wander from the noise and clang of earth's pro-choice
and enter into sanctum like a luminous bulb of white
Sometimes late at night when the memory wants her say
I slip away to the window to watch the star's resonant hoist
blanched by the effervescence of dawn they all but go away
Because they know that sometimes late at night I want to stay,
over by the window where I can sit, until the break of day.
Categories:
femur, night, travel,
Form:
Free verse
Bones
We have 206 bones in our skeletal system
Far too many to completely list ‘em
But here are a few for your edification
In case you missed ‘em in your education
Tibia, fibia, femur, and sternum
Are four of the larger if you’d care to learn ‘em
But malleus, incus and stapes I fear
Are the smallest you have, so they fit in your ear
You have a funny bone called the “humerous”
You’ve only got two, so they aren’t very numerous
Your ribs, on the contrary number twenty-four
Adam gave one away, still he had plenty more
Enclosing your brain is the hardest bone you’ve got
Known as the “Cranium” more often than not
And “Mandible” is the medical name for “Jaw”
You rely on it mostly when it’s time to gnaw
Your phalanges are your fingers and toes
Both may be places where a ring goes
And down around your knees are your patellas
You scraped them a lot when you were young fellas
Your vertebrae make up your spine; you’ve got ‘em
Cervical, thoracic, and lumbar near your bottom
They’re separated by small discs in between
But should one slip, the pain can be mean
Of course, there are others that are well-known
Like the radius, ulna, and coccyx bone
Sit them all down in a comfortable seat
And at a fancy restaurant, say “Bone Appetit!”
Categories:
femur, education, funny, humorous, light,
Form:
Rhyme
I used to pass an empty house
On my way home from school
I was only ten years old then
I heard that older people lived
There
But I never saw them.
Found old photos
Showed them to Dad
Where’d you get them he asked?
Found them in the old house I said
Then he and mother spoke
In the privacy of their bedroom
I saw the shadows of their arms
Move
And point toward my room
This was the 1950’s
Times were different
And some things
Were just never talked about.
When the old house was torn down
I went inside
To look
And to explore
Kicking an odd piece of dirt
The soft rotted wood moved
And something flipped up
Bones
Some as big as my leg.
But it was the damp smell of decay
That I remembered
Vividly
Even at that time
When anything new
Was always exciting
This was different
I had not experienced anything like this before
But I would years later
Ten years later
A decade to wait.
I was In Country
Two tours
Separated from my group
Never found
Missing in action
But really I’m dead
Been like this for years
All that’s left
Of me
Are bone fragments
Part of a femur
And a scratch of faded cloth
Scattered over a vast green landscape
At the edge of a jungle.
Occasionally I hear digging sounds
Not the heavy shovel kind
But a gentle probing
Of earth
Someone intent on finding something
But not wishing to disturb
They haven’t found me
Yet
So I still wait.
I never got used to the damp smell of decay
But just the same I take solace
In that smell
Because it reminds me of
Long ago
When I was just a schoolboy
Coming home.
Categories:
femur, warhouse, old, house, me,
Form:
Narrative
by digital light
they hovered and poured pure hate
down over my bed
hung the advisors
selling sammy’s letter to
a christian nation
of gods and portals
opened when I closed the book
and peeked into worlds
a hair’s width away
from my face they pressed hard for
another mistake
doubt stabbed my recall
of passages and preachers
in this kind of fight
would they not give chase
fear stumbles a femur snaps
to put me back down
reduced my weapons
to decorative clutter
in that old farmhouse
The Holy Ghost spoke
told me not to engage them
extended his hands
slowly closed my eyes
blurred vision of Christ who stood
by his Father’s throne
and before any
of minute’s measures of time
three demons were gone
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Contest: Divine Intervention
Sponsor: Chantelle Anne Cooke
---------------------------------------------
Old Contest: Senryu on Angels
Sponsor: Marvin Celestial
Written: 04.04.16
Categories:
femur, angel, christian, evil, faith,
Form:
Senryu
There isn't a mass grave in my neighborhood
a creek has never flooded
(there is no creek, after all)
and bones have not surfaced.
A bulldozer never grinds to a halt
stayed by a smiling white skull.
The driver doesn’t jump down
doesn’t sift through the remains
kneeling there on the plot.
I once found a grey limb
jutting out from a hill.
I hoped it was a bone
maybe a femur from yore,
the last limb of a virulent Ute
protecting his home—
built by him
with his arms and legs
with the tools of the plains.
His scalp no more,
his skin long gone
but the bone remaining
still staking claim
for the living and free.
But it wasn’t a bone—
it was a tree limb
because there aren’t graves in my neighborhood.
There aren’t even real trees
or game trails;
there aren’t survivors
or failures
let alone corpses and fleas
And the only war left to fight
is against omnipresent me.
Categories:
femur, death, depression, history, imagination,
Form:
Blank verse
driving through streets of angst and apathy
driving to the place where I can actualize my desire
to eat a 12 piece bucket of chicken hunks
smiling at the coo-koo bird with **** exposed
the paper words speaking in a greasy cacophony
that sings louder than the top 40 rap from the car next to me
the all encompassing fried waft fills the upper quadrants
of my olfactory facilities
my pavlovian salivary stalactites are noteworthy in the rearview
the napkins that won't suffice tonight
whilst sipping new dessicated sanguine juice
later I shall roll in the fractured bones and discarded cartilage
with the glee of a lion licking the last remnants of flesh
from the femur of the sleeping zebra
driving with my portable fan to scent glaze those caught at the precipice
of another uncomfortable intersection smoldering with the anticipation
of another color
it's night and my eyes work like the retinas of an great horned owl
hookers flittering about within the shadows in the fashion of desperate hyenas
eyes reflecting red to further emphasize the craze
the urge/smell to press forward is overwhelming
the distractions are fantastic
the howls of maligned dogs echoes over the canopy of green neon
I am the great white hunter bringing home my quarry and
park this steely beast making its heart turn off
metal and flesh move at different vibrations that only appear similar
yes it is time to work the mandible with great passion yet
with empty thoughts as the world outside the den
makes the brain short circuit from its normal capacities
other than hunting for the best family meal deal
because down by the facsimile of a watering hole there are whole animal parts
compressed into small and workable units
Categories:
femur, animalswork, work,
Form:
Free verse
Joey Contemplating a Skeleton
By Elton Camp
The teacher told Joey to learn each bone by name
And that there were only about 206 of the same
The parietal, temporal and occipital are in the head
At least that’s what the biology teacher then said
The atlas and axis are two bones found in the neck
Twelve vertebrae are attached to ribs if you check
Lumbar, sacrum and their parts learn without fail
And don’t forget the coccyx that looks like a tail
Of the maxillae and mandible the jaws are made
Collar bone is the clavicle; scapula shoulder blade
Humerus in upper arm, ulna below, radius thumb side
And in wrist and hand carpals & metacarpals reside
Phalanges are found in both the fingers and the toes
The femur, patella, tibia and fibula in the leg goes
But this is only a small sample of what Joey must learn
If an excellent grade in his biology class he will earn
Categories:
femur, educationteacher, teacher,
Form:
Rhyme
I first glanced at you
Quietly looking away
I'll never hold you
My selfish declaration
I'm not that strong
Weaker than I perceived you were
Seeing you behind those tiny bars
Unable to lift your head from
That stained mattress
They said "Here, he's yours for the afternoon"
I instantly felt all your bones
Femur, spine, ribs, and radius
Your pooched out belly is all that made that
Onesy seem to fit
Your sunken distant eyes were the exclamation
Of your hunger, not just from food, but beyond
Further
When one's been touched it's possible
To smile at death
Hope makes such things possible
But it's hope you never met
And it was absent from our embrace
As we sat on the stone bench in the tall weeds
Of the hospital playground
The other kids responding w/ laughter
And smiles, giggles and games
Sticking out their tongues at each other
They said you were 4
You had never uttered a word
Had yet to eat solid food, you were still
Eating baby food
You had yet to walk, you were too weak
You'd been beaten, though
Several times
Unwanted, a curse
You ground your teeth so loud
I wanted to cry
I began talking to you about
Your future
One day talking
One day walking
Eating solid food
You didn't blink, you just stared blank
Like I wasn't there
Realization crept upon me and
Snatched optimism from my bosom
Next to where you lay
I wept
It was MY hope for you
That had been hijacked not your own
As far as I know you felt nothing
I would be back home
Within a week
As mucous flowed from my nostrils
Down the sides of my lip
I grappled with my feelings that you
Would be dead before I saw
My children again
My daughter playfully pedals bye
Her head tilted back and to the side
Bouncing Sandy blonde curls
Almost touching the tricycle tires
Chubby cheeks squinting eyes
Smiling the perfect full baby tooth smile
"Watch me daddy!"
Riding in circles around the hot fire grill
Filled with steak, mushrooms, and peppers
"Daddy's watching you, little turkey"
My baby is 4 and a half today
To have a memorial, there first must be a day of importance
Categories:
femur, bereavement, death of a
Form:
One Tired Torso
One tired torso stands and sits,
reeling from its aching hips.
The lumbar vertebrae are all but gone,
with femur bones that are old and worn.
A pelvis full that bore two baby girls,
is now a barren and empty world.
A gnarled patella is the mark,
of the many prayers said in the dark.
But it’s the feet that tell the story,
whether life was grind or glory.
Swollen talus and bent distal phalanges,
only a hard earned living understands these.
Heel spurs from years walking and standing,
in a challenging job, very demanding.
Both feet have severe plantar fasciitis,
the entire framework has osteoarthritis.
Old bones know all your life's true tale.
All they do at this juncture is wail.
You may say this body needs to rest,
but it still strives for mankind’s best.
9/9/16
Body Parts in Poem
Torso
Hips
Lumbar vertebrae
Femur bones
Pelvis
Patella
Feet
Talus
Distal phalanges (toes-tips)
heels
Categories:
femur, age, body, health,
Form:
Couplet
"Be very still", the voice said
"I'll get the nails from between your toes".
"He still breathes", another voice.
A gentle move,
a hand laid at my back,
another at my neck.
"We are your friends, not foes",
He adds, hearing my whimpering.
I cringe at the painful sting
of nails torn from my hands.
I hear their whispers of horror
when they remove the bloodied shirt.
He wraps my chest in cellophane
Gently whispering and smiling.
Someone turning me around,
tightly strapped to a gurney
holds me softly against his chest,
while another cuts my jeans away:
"His calf needs splints, his back
Is badly hurt... those vertebrae,
this kid is most certainly not okay".
The soft voice whispers tenderness.
"A miracle he lives,
the way we found him,
he is crushed, his femur".
"Cover him in blankets,
his skin so cold, ambulance now!
Don't touch his shattered forearms!"
He cautiously takes my limp body
in his warm and careful strong arms.
My nostrils fill with strangest fragrance,
And in my brain the world spins,
Finally I am feeling warm,
And then I fall asleep
***
brain, forearms, nostrils, femur, vertebrae, chest, calf, nails, hands, toes, back, neck, arms.
***
A Body of Work - contest
sponsored by Viv Wigley
september 2016
Categories:
femur, abuse, child abuse, pain,
Form:
Free verse
‘Couch potato’,
‘Couch potato’,
Vexed by every one,
A mother of one,
A woman bulky,
Became sulky.
Coaxed to work-up,
For fitness to develop,
Took to swimming,
Jogging and running,
And drastic dieting,
All unscientific training,
Swift and slender,
Became tender!
Has the training worked wonder?
No! she invited danger!
She is twenty eight,
Walks with a waddling gait,
Gets intermittent ‘blush’?
No! It’s a ‘hot flush’!!
Mental irritation,
At times depression,
Irregular menstruation,
And painful coition,
Pain in the low back,
Fractures the femur-neck!
A menopausal syndrome?
No! An acute weight loss syndrome!
Categories:
femur, caregiving, health, introspection, life,
Form: