Best Glaucoma Poems
From glaucoma to chemotherapy
Medical marijuana has its place
But you won’t find any prescribed
In the conservative Sunshine State
Chris couldn’t eat while under treatment
Watched him lose one-hundred pounds
He had no access to an appetite stimulant
His weight was 85 when laid in the ground
Hefty Jen had lived a life of kindness
Taught spiritually uplifting courses
She suffered when chemo raced through her system
Until people said, “How beautifully slim her corpse is.”
When Dad’s glaucoma grew severe
He relied only on eye drops that made him tear
His gift of sight was taken slowly
Though THC might have helped his eyes clear
And when I first wrestled with ulcerative colitis
A college friend brought me a joint, said, “Try it”
Less than an hour later I was eating without pain
But laws are clear, Florida doctors can’t prescribe it
Research has proved there are benefits
Only medical marijuana use can provide
But those who worry about drug abuse
Say those who could benefit should be denied
Each day in the headlines we read of drunk drivers
Mostly teens who seek access through friends
And if they want marijuana, they find a way to get it
But for those who abide by laws, agony never ends
If smoking pot or ingesting a tablet of THC
Can help a person who is suffering great pain
Don’t you think the time has come
To ask prohibitionists to explain
Why people who are hurting needlessly
Cannot have access to any remedy
That soothes their aches, improves their last days
Diminishing the symptoms of their tragedy
I feel as if walking inside
an impressionistic painting, that too in 3D
as far as I can see, a world of dots and light
the same as what I’m made of.
I see summer in spring.
My eyes touch the sky and sky me.
I feel people staring at me
but why don’t they ask me about my Glaucoma.
My optic nerve, the cable, is damaged
And sends visual information to the brain
And can cause slight vision or even blindness
And am advised to take marijuana,
The most controversial choice
though there are alternative therapies.
I know smoking marijuana has been proven
to reduce intra ocular pressure
and prevents optic nerve damage
but takes a heavy toll
as one has to smoke multiple times a day
for the consistent results
adding to the global drama of medical marijuana.
I am trying it out but…….
Feeling the side effects of depression & exacerbate asthma.
+++
November 29, 2014
Form: Free Verse
Dr.Ram Mehta
7th place win
Contest: Medical Marijuana by Debbie Guzzi
No dear, not for your sympathies to earn,
Nor yet that your attention can I draw,
Just as helpless infants are apt to do,
True, facing you helpless I’ve often felt.
Tears cause in me no butterflies of love,
Nor trigger love-bonds flowing well within,
Should ye so wish, check chemicules therein,
Check enzymes and lipids if so to prove,
Or if electrolytes are duly dealt,
Tears of emotion show more protein too,
Making them viscose more, on skin to claw,
No, tears are not shed by me— one lovelorn.
Nor yet my dear, crocodile tears are shed,
Oh, just so that my dry eyes moist are made.
________________________________________
Chemicules: short for chemical molecules
A man cries the night before, and his wife wants to know why. After ruling out all her false conjectures as to why he cried, he gives the true reason: He suffered from glaucoma, and his eyes tended to weaken more due to dryness. And he tries crying sometimes to moisturize his eyes.
This sonnet might appear rhyme-less on a casual look. But it has a mirror-like symmetry— the first six lines rhyme with the next six, followed by a Volta in the form of a couplet.
_________________________________________________________
Sonnets (Humour) | 20.03.2017 |
Reggae artist Peter Tosh said it best with his hit song "Legalize It". The legendary
Bob Marley also glorified it in his music. Of course they were referring to marijuana.
In the 1970's marijuana was just as popular as it is today. However most were using
it to get high, some were using it for medicinal purposes. We've come a long way since then, with many states now legalizing it. There is ongoing research to tap into its
medicinal uses. It has been used for many years to treat glaucoma, and given to
cancer patients to alleviate nausea.
I think this herb will prove to have great impact in the field of medicine. Though
Peter and Bob are no longer with us, we can certainly appreciate their vision.
many will continue to use it to get high, many more will benefit from its medicinal
attributes. To all those who will benefit now, and in the future, I'll just light up my spliff and say; "This buds for you".
believe it or not
i would read more poems
if my eyes would allow it
blind in one eye
wearing the other one out
trying to read read read
see see see everything
through my only good eye
going bad bad bad
fast fast fast glaucoma
rule rule rule as king
through my father's loins
It is knowledge and understanding beyond the seen
and not the mind, losing its charisma.
Laid down unmerited blessings is best imagined,
being qualified is by belief and not a diploma.
It’s unbelievable and strange to the world,
such a road is never short of stigma.
Its carriers are tagged blind and myopic
with neighbours wondering if it’s mental glaucoma.
Truth shoulders its complexities
as reasoning partners with facts,
leaving convictions to serve as reality’s aroma.
But much glory waits such stand,
fueling hope to operate a wide cinema.
The present usually blurs the future
like a child in its pregnant mama.
Sight is limited but understanding runs deep,
without it, one will live but in a conscious coma.
Small visual field
The facts are all present now
Bad news: Glaucoma
Losing my eyesight
Must pamper my failing eyes
Don’t want to lose them
Russell Sivey
White America is uncomfortable with moving forward,
they want their future to go back to the past
“Make America Great Again!”
A brand chiseling,
cave wall jingo retail sale slogan
Snowflakes wanna hear the retro frost sound
of Viking cold chains rattling
When naked oppression was Dixie singing
That kind of Babel Tower progress, I ain’t feeling it;
them good ol’ boy days,
when America was great ...
My skin kin was moaning and screaming
They were auction sold:
Crying and wailing ... families split asunder weeping
Now, many golden amber hearts
wanna go back to that dreadful time
The Jim Crow chorus of assimilation animus
caw with shade malice lip hate crime
And not to mention,
the wage money that was free labor stolen —
Pyramid scheme abolition
Seems America was really great at emancipated slave trade:
Pharaoh prison conditions
Ivory House tombstone bellows
are foaming more divisive temporal waves
Remember the recent weepy, minstrel Happy Days,
when forced segregation was the legal rave ...
befo’ that supreme peace fellow,
nappy Harriet gave a Thurgood gavel save
But, I ain’t feeling
that rainbow kind of righteous vibe anymore
My grandfather clock is tick-tock moving backwards,
heading for the slave quarters entrance door
I suppose, it’s a great Confederate Prussian dishonor,
not to wanna rebel blue revel in the past
Especially, when you gotta red flag the fake hosannas,
that old timey white noise on bugle blast
Glaucoma grey vision
shows it’s great to be blind again
Lassie Lady Liberty limp trots leer comfortable ...
walking with a pale bigotry Cain
is a guide dog decision
America’s choice —
they picked the lewd runt of the litter
Little horn voice
blowing trumped up memories bitter
A "Highly" Debated Issue
From glaucoma to chemotherapy
Medical marijuana has its place
But you won’t find any prescribed
In the conservative Sunshine State
Chris couldn’t eat while under treatment
Watched him lose one-hundred pounds
He had no access to an appetite stimulant
His weight was 85 when laid in the ground
Hefty Jen had lived a life of kindness
Taught spiritually uplifting courses
She suffered when chemo raced through her system
Until people said, “How beautifully slim her corpse is.”
When Dad’s glaucoma grew severe
He relied only on eye drops that made him tear
His gift of sight was taken slowly
Though THC might have helped his eyes clear
And when I first wrestled with ulcerative colitis
A college friend brought me a joint, said, “Try it”
Less than an hour later I was eating without pain
But laws are clear, Florida doctors can’t prescribe it
Research has proved there are benefits
Only medical marijuana use can provide
But those who worry about drug abuse
Say those who could benefit should be denied
Each day in the headlines we read of drunk drivers
Mostly teens who seek access through friends
And if they want marijuana, they find a way to get it
But for those who abide by laws, agony never ends
If smoking pot or ingesting a tablet of THC
Can help a person who is suffering great pain
Don’t you think the time has come
To ask prohibitionists to explain
Why people who are hurting needlessly
Cannot have access to any remedy
That soothes their aches, improves their last days
Diminishing the symptoms of their tragedy
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
Why I love C.D’s poem “ A Highly Debated Issue”:
Carolyn Devonshire’s poems showcase the extraordinary thoughtful mind behind those lines. All of Carolyn’s poems are profound, and full of depth, but this poem especially touched me - I had the similar experience of losing a beloved one to the deadly disease, and we were not able to give him relief during the last days of intense pain. Carolyn was a strong, sensitive, generous, caring human being and a talented poetess, who loved life in her own way - she loved sand, and left her footprints on the shores of this mysterious earth.
Celebrating Carolyn’s poetry: an Uncontest Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
I’ve had my eyes tested
And I am 20/20
I am not short sighted
Nor long sighted
My eyes are healthy
There is no glaucoma
No floaters
Nor cataracts
My sight is perfect
So why is it
When I look at you
I see an angel
When you are anything but
I asked the optician
Why, with such perfect vision,
Can I not see betrayal?
He told me
That I have perfect vision
Its just rose tinted
Been diagnosed with start of glaucoma
It certainly was to be expected
Members of my family have also suffered
So why wouldn't I be affected
As most families go, so go its members
Very few of us miss this inheritance
Scads of money would be much more welcome
But we're all a slave to happenstance
Hopefully it's progress is really slow moving
And I'm good for a while yet to come
Not keen on anything to do with the eyeballs
Feel squeamish and come all undone
Maybe I'll be spared and catch a good break
I won't need to go under the knife
That word knife always scares the poop out of me
The most disturbing word of my life
“Okay Jack, you're sissy side is showing
Remember you're a male, stand up tall!”
Male, schmale, I cringe at the image
Of a doctor scraping my eyeballs
© Jack Ellison 2013
(Dedicated to the memory of my mother Catherine who died June 3, 2011 and was
buried June 24, 2011)
Sleep. Wake. Sleep
Sleep on empty stomach
Food and liquor make the journey
Eat, make Epicurus laugh double for once
Holiness! Is it not about angels and fruits
Eden has grapes and bitters
The tempters line the trees
And chirpy birds blow the flutes
The tempers with long tales and the dragon
There is a golden chair and a golden crown
And a bsket of flowers waiting to waive you in
There the master's table you'll see in the morning
Ulcer and glaucoma have no role to play
So you must eat, launch
And lunch to roost
There Grace waits for his owns
If indeed in the father's house there are many mansions
Why could Richman not easily find a room
Sone, from the master's table think
Analyze, princilpize, study and report
Stone, think as you walk around the dais
Analyze as you sleep. Principlize
Sleep and Sleep
Then look back, look to the corners
Look at the dome and compare with heavensgate
Take note the colors of the priests here and compare
See the dark waters, you did not see there before
See your scions on the front seats
See me, Franco, with the cross of attrition
Flung on me by brothers and sister
See the masquerades, musketeers
See my men dressed in raffia for this Elizbethan epic
See the men of the nights and those of the days
Filed on the right and on the left with Infant Terrible
See the near monks minus opportunity
Hiding their faces and long ghoulish tales
Rolling out muted laughter or pardon
Singing accustomed sonorous tunes for the great
See our uncles sibblings whose finest tears I never saw until now
See the candor and the incenses that have prevailed
Are these not enough comets that the Lord rewards
Yes. So then, the sound of the trumpets
The trumpeters are your seeded three clans
Charging the heavens in swaggers
Blazing forth, in pomps celebrating life
Dancing this same song of homecoming
For Stone, the cornerstone of many parts
Cargo of our latest argosy
Berthed at the Terminal. Farewell mum.
(Dedicated to the memory of my mother Catherine who died June 3, 2011 and was
buried June 24, 2011)
Sleep. Wake. Sleep
Sleep on empty stomach
Food and liquor make the journey
Eat, make Epicurus laugh double for once
Holiness! Is it not about angels and fruits
Eden has grapes and bitters
The tempters line the trees
And chirpy birds blow the flutes
The tempers with long tales and the dragon
There is a golden chair and a golden crown
And a bsket of flowers waiting to waive you in
There the master's table you'll see in the morning
Ulcer and glaucoma have no role to play
So you must eat, launch
And lunch to roost
There Grace waits for his owns
If indeed in the father's house there are many mansions
Why could Richman not easily find a room
Sone, from the master's table think
Analyze, princilpize, study and report
Stone, think as you walk around the dais
Analyze as you sleep. Principlize
Sleep and Sleep
Then look back, look to the corners
Look at the dome and compare with heavensgate
Take note the colors of the priests here and compare
See the dark waters, you did not see there before
See your scions on the front seats
See me, Franco, with the cross of attrition
Flung on me by brothers and sister
See the masquerades, musketeers
See my men dressed in raffia for this Elizbethan epic
See the men of the nights and those of the days
Filed on the right and on the left with Infant Terrible
See the near monks minus opportunity
Hiding their faces and long ghoulish tales
Rolling out muted laughter or pardon
Singing accustomed sonorous tunes for the great
See our uncles sibblings whose finest tears I never saw until now
See the candor and the incenses that have prevailed
Are these not enough comets that the Lord rewards
Yes. So then, the sound of the trumpets
The trumpeters are your seeded three clans
Charging the heavens in swaggers
Blazing forth, in pomps celebrating life
Dancing this same song of homecoming
For Stone, the cornerstone of many parts
Cargo of our latest argosy
Berthed at the Terminal. Farewell mum.
The marijuana drug trade is being legalized.
Over the last 10 years, this herb has been helping glaucoma victims’ eyes.
Therapeutically marijuana is sold as a medical pain suppressor.
An herb that will crossover as a recreational drug stolen from pharmaceuticals
companies as compound medicine.
****
I am as high as hell is hot.
I’ve been drinking bourbon.
My head is spinning like a top from the hype here in this cist,
as I lay down to relax.
My chambers are filled with noise.
Drums out of Africa are beating so loud.
My lover is smoking his pipe to heighten his sexual desire.
Medical marijuana we have.
Blowing our minds on how shrill this is.
This is real time.
He is giving me the eye.
I am not for this s*i* tonight.
I need a woman in my life.
I am going to drop this addict’s addiction and disengage from the
negative influence.
Get me a HIV test to make sure she will not be a victim of my indiscretion.
The reckless life I am living is perdition.
I am not going to wake up one morning destroyed.
Oh Lord, please help me out of this hellhole!
____________________________________|
Penned on May 10, 2014!
The world of sight is when taken
Away, let of vision waken,
Let world of sound sharply shaken.
Way laid gets when my wander lust,
Let me hear time’s footsteps in dust,
Dawn’s birds wake me with song-filled burst.
Feel of colours behind eyelids,
Faithfull’s faith passed on prayer beads,
Let me see heart of golden deeds.
If flower colours get frozen
If world of butterflies has gone,
Fine, let me world of fragrance own.
If not, take all this away, much
As ye like, just keep sense of touch,
Let me feel the world just as such.
___________________________________
Musings |07.04.2022| Terza Rima
Poet’s note: As we know, glaucoma as a silent ailment takes away one’s vision gradually over passing years. First the peripheral vision gets narrower, ultimately to get reduced to a tunnel vision, and even that is lost one day. Of late I have been thinking of this eventuality in my life. But then the heart takes over from the head and says, never mind, there is that whole world beyond sight, a lot that we look at and still fail to see— the subject matter of this piece.