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Best Sickle Cell Poems | Poetry

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The Best Sickle Cell Poems

Details | Sickle Cell Poem | Create an image from this poem.

HOMONYM

Don’t you agree with my ability
to loosen up on our times in no night ?
A river thing was flowing
through foliaged silence.

In deranged hour of the
neck tie, you throw up obscenity 
on road. What ? Chicken hearted ?
Sickle cell anemia ?

Goat rioting before sacrifice:-
the tiny feet will drop from heaven
to walk in blood and bless you 
for dispatching the head of unlove.

The night hawk butchers the hope,
if the baby owl cries again. Afraid,
I am going to take a flight
to yellowing moon.



Satish Verma


Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2012


Details | Sickle Cell Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Red Blood

Blood is red for vibrant, 
Beating and in time, 
Rhythmical with vitality, 
Resounding in spark and shine. 

Zestfulness depends on your blood,
Having it and living by its pump, 
With transports plasma around the body, 
To clot when cuts scare and could stump. 

The zeal we get from red blood cells,
Save from Anemia, Malaria and Sickle cell disease, 
And when too many white blood cells accumulate, 
Leukaemia damages our tissues, the sleaze. 

The heart is rightly denoted, 
As the centre from which emanates love, 
The essence of the person, 
The call that you shouldn’t be above. 

The colour red is spritely, 
Vibrates energy and drive, 
A dynamism which supersedes,
The dirge that sometimes thrives. 

When you see an icon, 
A symbol, logo or picture, 
That's covered in the colour red, 
Just remember its derivation structure. 

You could say that blood was made red, 
By god, coincidence or accident, 
But I think that red is the colour of blood, 
The true precedent and determinant. 


Copyright © Rhoda Monihan | Year Posted 2015


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water is life

 WATER IS LIFE
People ignore me because of my simple nature
If you ask me, I would not hesitate to say;
When the creator takes, I take, however, every other thing comes after me.
As a liquid, so colorless I am, I don’t deny the fact anyway
But, tell you solemnly I am valuable more than any conceivable liquid that men embrace.
Plant feel prideful enough, men thought they are the greatest
Birds of the air with their glittering nature, this is because;
I get enormous kiss from them every time!
When I become angry for anything, 
I will put shame, disgrace to it
It cease from its normal functioning.
If men boast that they can do without me, notwithstanding the status
Can they withstand my wrath when I cease for three weeks?
Oh no! Even if they can, they will stink, struck them with disease-
Disfigure their physic and they will kiss the mother Earth!
Why should the birds be arrogant?
Is it for; their unique feathers, attractive beaks, and their consequential legs?
Do they not feed in fruits of trees?
Which I nurture tenaciously from incarnation
If I should give them my back side, they will simply add nothing but
 Manure to the mother Earth.
What of the beautiful flamboyant flowers
That produces sweet nectar for insect to live?
What of The plant of the earth that every animal derives its life?
Am I not the one that makes them paramount?
If they decide not to be in speaking terms with me
Oh no! I will make them as thin as an AIDS patient
I will disfigure their out look to resemble such suffering from-
Sickle-cell anemia or perhaps, kwashiorkor
But, am so glad that, inter-alia, they concede that
I should as well be attributed as life!  
















Copyright © Nnachetam Stanislaus | Year Posted 2013


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WHO'S NEXT?

The thunderous thunder

Came thundering in a turmoiled town

Timing my timeless time,

June, you played a fowl gain

You can’t spare us even for once

That we may eat the fruit of our labour

 

Who’s next?

That we may celebrate tears

…Festival of tears

Nay, leak our rotten fingers

After eating the Idenyi Ai-iko meat

 

Udaburu Ogo Ukpoji

Falling fellow lonely

Your face tattered, like a pampered baby

Swollen like a bread soaked in water

Infected with sickle cell

 

Your broods are no more

Behold the grave poking tongue at you

Your are now an lopped tree

Behind a shroud of secrecy

 

Don’t count us out

For we are all victims of the grave

‘Cos to our maker we shall go

To give the account of our talents

–Grave, my son

–Linen, my daughter

–Casket, my eternal cradle

I owe thee a poesy accolade

For devouring my lungs asunder

 

Now the gods are silent

And the night is close by

Who knows-

Who’s next? 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



Copyright © Ameh Comrade Godwin | Year Posted 2010


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Sickle Cell Bulimia

I was in a hurry
To weight only forty
Had no time for a drawn
out diet
So decided I would try it
Bought a sickle
Carved off my flesh
It didn't tickle,
But the blood was fresh

Got on the scale,
With my dying breath
Couldn't read the weight
Too much blood
And it was now too late

I probably weighted but twenty
A skeleton was I
Exceeded my desired weight loss
But for this I had to die.


Copyright © tom bell | Year Posted 2008


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Abiku speaks

Abiku speaks..... sickle cell patient

Let me go, for I’m in pains    
COS I’m guilty not,
In this case. 
COS all these, are your own faults.

Am not as wicked as you think, 
for I also
Wish to stay as other babies 
do                                                
Only for you, to   
Have denied me, the right to 
do.     

I tried pleasing you, b’cos  
Staying a week is a difficult 
task.     
I wonder whom you lent your 
ears.      
Cos all this, has Mendel said.      

Far down early 1880s,  
But it’s a pity, people still fall 
victims, till late 1990s.              
Always will I keep to the soil, 
b’cos           
I have no strength, to endure 
the pains

All your claims are correct 
not                                        
For I challenge you, to show just
One, of those who came back not
With their two ears 
fit                                                    

I will only stay,   
If you do as the doctor says,        
“Check your rhesus and your 
genotype” 
“Before stepping into 
marriage”.    

But, if you yield not to 
warnings    
Then, in vain will nine month 
be.   
For, in my royal gourd,  
Will I abide!!!


Copyright © adelaja olayiwola | Year Posted 2011


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The Lost Cross of Chaoss

The Lost Cross of Chaoss
(acrostic)

Tomorrow turns too yesterday
How fast it can appear
Everything you borrowed
Left without a tear
Office of a coffin
Society’s sickle cell
Taxes for the order
Chaos rings like a bell
Right or wrong forgotten
Our vanity cries out
Save me from my suffering
Still let me dish it out
Oh the joy of triumph
Feeling numb to shame
Chaos's always calling
He wants to play your game
Appears without a warning
Offers you no choice
Suffering's the outcome
Suffering's his voice



By: Jeremy Siedlecki


Copyright © jeremy siedlecki | Year Posted 2011


Details | Sickle Cell Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Runaway child

When she hurts me
I hide it inside
Secretly feeling like I've died
17 years I been there
How could Tony ever compare
Hospital after hospital
Sickle cell crisis
Real life emergencies
Never once did I leave your side
Now you use tyshawns mom as your alibi
How much more hurt is to come
Keep saying I'm done
At night I lie awake
Trying to relate
Pondering if i can equate
I smile but I'm broken in two
But what can I do
Trembling inside
Wish it was all a God dam lie
Seems like the longest ride
Don't know if she safe or ok
Hope she comes back someday


Copyright © Deshanta Hawkins | Year Posted 2018