Best Phalanges 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.
"In the theory of personality, the conscious mind consists of
everything inside of our awareness. This is the aspect of our
mental processing that we can think and talk about rationally.
Quote by _Sigmund Freud
After birth our bodies are aging,
slowly ... but by forty we notice the changes:
with cells and with bones a war is raging.
We notice that our muscles have less ranges;
we have bothersome metacarpals and phalanges !
Oh, each of us have lived life in chapters.
with ups and downs we are a constant changing book:
experience make us good adapters.
We just float ... flowing along like a forest brook;
and know real truth from just silly gobbledygook !
All through life there is constant awareness,
it ebbs and flows ... changing and we see ourselves:
and hopefully our unique rareness.
Never let your life gather dust like books on shelves,
be aware ... encourage others to help themselves !
To be aware is to know who you are,
your thoughts, dreams, character traits and even your flaws:
oh, be aware of this world ... close and far.
When upset don't get angry and bring out the claws;
be aware, step back, take a breath and a long pause !
___________________
May 10, 2023
Poetry/Quintain (English)/Screen Of Awareness
Copyright Protected, ID 05-1546-378-10
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
Written for the Premiere contest, Screen Of Awareness
sponsor, Unseeking Seeker, Judged 05/26/2023
Eighth Place
Out my window, scenery is the best.
The valley is spread out all before me.
I can see for miles and miles north, east and west
while close up is my lovely willow tree.
Far out in the distance there lies a lake.
Beyond that is the outline of ranges.
Halfway around the lake those mountains snake -
a giant’s disconnected phalanges!
Although fantastic is my back yard’s view,
I also love what greets me from the east.
That other window shows our avenue.
Beyond our neighborhood there lurks a beast -
a mountain green with trees where I can go,
and even now in summer I see snow.
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!”
In Nursing School
In nursing school they have us learn all the proper medical words,
Because in Greek and Latin we defecate, but we never make turds,
And what's worse than learning about all these dreadful diseases
Is forgetting my English to replace it with obfuscating medicaleses,
Lest we forget that great chemical known as adenosine triphosphate
Which is the powerhouse of the cells, or did she say an exudate?
And though I've been to India and seen the river Ganges,
I never knew my fingers were really called phalanges,
And we must learn about colitis, encephalitis and diverticulitis,
But I hope these germs don't decide to get up and bite us.
You can't find out a lot about someone by palpating the patella,
Not even if the patient is female, or if he is a fella.
And we must distinguish anemia, diarrhea and gonorrhea
From the almost identical condition known as leukemia.
Sex is one thing, I think, not one of us has time for,
For after school it's off to work until you're blind or
Wishing you had never heard of cellular necrosis,
Not to mention the hundred kinds of psychoses and neuroses.
And then there's that other major hurdle called getting adequate funding,
And if you can't get a loan or a grant they'll have you do the plumbing.
It seems the clinical locations are never really near ya,
In fact most of them are deep inside Siberia,
And if out in the Sun recall that your skin can get tumorous,
For the study of medicine is serous – very, and hardly ever humerus.
Your medical books will have you believe you've every disease known
From autophobia to an ecchymosis to cerumen on the bone.
But at least there are no bullies insisting we are all big wimps,
For studying things like urine, saliva, bile, blood and lymph;
And if there's one more part with the outlandish name of buccinator,
I think I'll lose it all and become a hallucinator.
verses in lines, wing that shines
converses and do streamlines
contemplating on pages
transcending spanned phalanges
Hands of the piety
Phalanges of work and charity
Driven to spearhead not stoop
Enliven and share not droop
Fingers we dip on stoupe
Churches of the holy in troop
Our faith we lathe with pride
Strongly we hold not stride
Images we fond and draw
Murals we touch like straw
Gentleness in open hands we pave
Roughness in helping hands we stave
Our works and thoughts are one
Over thorns and bouts of man
Skins and colors of faith
Fins and winged colors of the laith
You are a work of art
Embellished with paints of heart
Filled with a well of hope
Influx of worth in the hull of rope
Ropes are extensions of hope that purport
Strengthened by faith and hands of support
Eighty-eight keys under your phalanges
Eighty-eight keys under your appendages
Play the piano with your soul's lyrics
Stay humming with a song within your hysterics
Piano is just one instrument to play with
Albino keys that serenade your soul's pith
Piano of your life you can live, travel and die with
Your story in a melody captured so live, daring and born with
Black Theology
It’s that time again
Black man’ scratch for a dime
Like a savage dog, nose on the ground
A bureaucrat’s squash to sip lime
Peeling skin, bare bleeding phalanges-such is excruciating pain
The word of Adam, let them be bound
In chains so fiercely hot, manacled so close to the furnace
Such that their sweat make it rain, make it raiiin
The cry from below- minus six, the trumpet is yet to be sound
The burst of their blisters shall adorn the walls of the city
And I say 7 times; times indeed your muskets shall be in vain
As a mass of ancestors rise upon you, and proclaim to all corners of the world
“This is the day that the lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it”
Cuz this is the day, in which a black man’s pride was found
Wafting in the air,sweet scent of your soul,
Like a garden of lilac shrub and sweet pea;
Exuding my path, deodorant of your whole,
Like the path of African civet cat or hill
Of scent-born-beetles. You are not afar,
Your beacon,your sweet aroma is distinct;
Yours is not red-herring,but a sun’s compass;
Ageless trajectory that never misleads .
I am close,nearer than phalanges to metacarpus;
The scent of your soul,beam of light to my sight,
The scent of your soul,eternal buoy in my life ocean;
You are the mouth, I am the hand; in sun and in shade,
Does hand miss its journey to the mouth? Does hen
Miss its path to the brood?When horse comes to stable,
It does not need the bridle ; often in hide and seek,
Romeo knows where Juliet is. The scent of your soul,
Like the moon in the sky,which hand can shroud?
The scent of your soul, effulgence of the sun,
Which curtain can veil?When thunder sparks,
Who can extinguish its light with his breath?
Doubt not, delay not, deter not,no fissure;
Like onion’s flesh we are bound;like hunchback
Glued to the back we are locked;you wait not in vain,
Because of the scent of your soul,we shall cut cake.
Oct.12th,2014.
Skeleton Tree At Sunset
mangled phalanges
reach from haunched spectral shoulders
death screams at dusk
deborah burch ©
07/02/2012
The genie is on the loose
The genie is on the run
Ali Baba and the 40 thieves
Pandora box has been sprung;
Pandemonium, helter-skelter strung.
"Why did you do this"? He asked
'I heard a voice that ordered me'
The genie on the loose
And the people on the run.
Running helter-skelter.
The dragon unleashed
Spanners in the works
Too many cooks tending the broth
Many phalanges eyeing the broth..
The Scilian code of silence is broken
The genie on the loose.
Zebra crossings in the game reserve
Ebola the terror from Monrovia
Revered in Lagos Nigeria.
The genie on cruise control.
Boko Haram in the North East
Terrorists in religious garb,
Weakness of the Nation awakened
Reality dawns on the
Conscience of A Nation
The genie on the loose.
At last our sacred realm
Of peace has been broken.
Fear reigns supreme at the
Fringes of the the Country's borders
We are now face to face with terror.
The imagination of a Nation
Held in a vice grip.
(This was written in March, 2015)
when the terrors of Boko Haram
was at its peak ravaging Nigeria.
School days
The elastic energy of my ears were increasing
When the teacher was pulling my ears
This was connected later to the earth
When I was doing up and down touching my ears
There was an expansion on my anger
And exponential decay of my knowledge
The faster diffusion of C6H12O6
And I was being pulled down by the gravity
His theory said he was trying to change
The electron that I am to proton that we all should be
But I knew I was an element that
Cannot be broken down by any chemicals
Knowledge is everything he said,
His knowledge was gigantic
You bloody fools you knowledge is in billion X micron's
Even electron microscope cannot see
I can't find the latent heat, to change your mind
I know that an object remains at rest or in uniform motion
Unless acted up on by external force
I can't change the damn object that you are
You are disgrace to the law
You'll learn on your way to ontogeny
The physiology of life
The world is a vast sea to live and
You are nothing but mere plankton
That day will come when you metamorphose
Into adult from puparium
He used to talk about some kind of symbiosis crap
And I used to press my phalanges against my pinna
You are nothing but a pathogenic micro organism
For which the antibiotics can never be found
You are a parasite and this world is a host
Your friends are like the rotten potato
That creates a chain reaction
We must pour some alcoholic KOH on you
Also perform dehydrohalogenation
Your brains were made chloroform by god
But you have turned them into phosgene
Your brain is fermented by sacchromyces
The fresh water that you were born is dying
As a pure distillation of C2H5OH
The qualitative and quantitative analysis
On you will result as a major disaster
You deoxyribose sugar must really code you to be a liar
Dear fool child your solubility product must be really higher
I've pushed and shoved my way
to the front of the field trip line
for I desperately desire to go
to the Fancy Foot Factory!
I have dreamed about this day for
like forever, so desirous am I to
trade in these freakishly funny looking feet
for smooth, svelte, sophisticated
small and oh so dainty feet
with the most admirable, manicured
toenails on the planet.
From the first moment I became
aware of my frightfully large
phalanges (I even recall playing
with my long toes as a kid)
and comparing them with other
normal kid's feet, I felt like
a female hobbit (fortunately, my
feet aren't hairy!)
They say the Fancy Foot Factory will guarantee
their foot replacement work, so I can feel
fancy and fashionable
for the right fee, of course!
One question, though. Do they come
with a lifetime supply of stylish sandals?
Written on 3/16/2017
By Parizo Van Thulare
Too much feelings that I've invented
Too much much of my time that I spent
Loving the wrong
Hoping for the best
I've Sacrificed with all I had
Telling myself I would be enough
Thinking some days I will sing those of Ralph
Unaware I was polishing a dynamite
That which fell on my phalanges
That which put my soul in paralysis
Yet here I am on the west
With no tear to shed
No feeling to share
My heart is in square shape
No beats ,I feel no change
No ticks , quite as the orphanage
I fell but my feelings won't catch me
I tried but love won't let me
Sometimes I'm bored
Not for long I abort
How am i going to live with such an empty heart ?
How long will it take my scars to heal ?
I feel no love anymore
So down ,all of me is lost