Best Typhoid Poems
Someday I'd like to wander free
like butterfly, like bumblebee,
perhaps to plant a willow tree
beside the silent solemn sea,
before these things exist no more,
from mountain top to shifting shore,
when, soon, bald eagles cease to soar
and build their aeries nevermore,
and fish forsake polluted streams
(where sulfur swims and typhoid teems
since no one really cares it seems)
to die inside our toxic dreams
while ice caps melt and winter steams,
and all the air surrounding reeks
as children choke, for no one speaks
of fracking wells or oily leaks
(Big Brother's silenced all critiques!),
and rancid rains acidify
so woods no longer multiply
(for God so wills, we can't deny,
which is, of course, our alibi).
And as the deepest ocean fills
with plastic bags, and garbage spills
upon the plains, across the hills
and turns to poison dust that kills
wild dingo dogs and daffodils
which sink in swamps’ forsaken swills,
the mocking bird makes light and trills
(midst waning wails of whippoorwills)
"Behold the surreal scene that chills
and greet the dread that death distills!
You've had your day with all the frills
that brought the flood and final ills
that can't be cured with bitter pills
nor yet undone with further thrills
of profit gained that grinds and fills
dead desert sands with dollar bills."
EPILOGUE
Though swaddled still in infancy,
we feel we’ve reached our primacy
(aloof, though preaching piously,
disdaining deeds of decency)
and have no need of augury.
But in the pit of prophecy
the crucial questions seem to be:
“Is doom Earth’s fate, our destiny
to twist in tides of agony
destroying nature’s progeny
with no return a certainty
assured by death’s finality?”
and
”Should we plant a willow tree
to someday weep for you and me?”
black snakeroot, yew, cocklebur, poison (ivy, oak, parsnip, sumac, ryegrass, hemlock), blister bushes, daffodil, mayapple, lilium, jerusalem cherry, indian licorice, deadly nightshade, christmas rose, bleeding heart, asparagus berries, wolfsbane, tomato leaves, doll’s eyes, the suicide tree, young larkspur, blue-green algae, stinkweed, dumbcane, european spindle, blind-your-eye mangrove, manchineel, laburnum, mother of millions, elderberry root, bacterial pathogens, exotoxins, mycotoxins, grayanotoxins, rhinovirus, chicken pox, sleeping sickness, cholera, yellow fever, typhoid, rotavirus, river blindness, measles, japanese encephalitis, hepatitis (a,b & c), cryptosporidiosis, shigella infection, pneumonia, meningitis, tuberculosis, schistosomiasis, malaria, influenza, herpes (1 & 2), crab louse, scabies, chlamydia, gonorrhea, syphilis, chancroid, trichomoniasis, hpv, hiv/aids, ebola virus, marburg virus, mad cow disease, mudslides, avalanches, blizzards, storms, cyclones, hurricanes, tsunamis, tornadoes, earthquakes, floods, fires, supervolcanic eruptions: evidence of absence.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15 seconds
SOMEONE IN THE WORLD DIES FROM Diarrhea,
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15 seconds
SOMEONE IN THE WORLD DIES FROM Cholera
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15 seconds SOMEONE IN THE WORLD DIES FROM Dysentery
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15 seconds SOMEONE IN THE WORLD IS DEAD FROM Typhoid,
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15 seconds SOMEONE IN THE WORLD DIES FROM Guinea worm
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15 SOMEONE IN THE WORLD DIES FROM Hepatitis
Where is the funding for clean water/ sanitation to stop them?
A tornado comes and goes so quick
Sometimes revisiting on the same day
Air humid, breathing hard and thick
Best advice given…get out of its way
Sounds like freight train bearing down
Delivers this –Varoommmmmmmmmm
Next best advice--don’t live in a valley
Respite from twisters in Oklahoma town
Not possible— it’s tornado alley
Here’s the scoop
May 5, 1960…The date of the natural crime
Wilburton, Oklahoma…quiet and boring
Me…my life, smooth and in my prime
Outside, trouble brewing, rain pouring
No wind—then dark---storm clouds
Sudden change and all so loud
No way to stop---nature makes it way
Tornadoes F4 hit twice that day
Up one hill, down in the valley, another hill
A path right through main street
Wiped out fifteen blocks with shocking skill
Score tornado 16, town 0…no receipt
Sadly, sixteen dead, hundreds hurt
Think disaster, destruction, devastation
Hail equates baseballs—certain disconcert
Wind 250 miles per hour, an aberration
On a personal note
Mom, sister, and I alone
Little sister told to put football helmet on
I get only, “You better pray. Don't groan."
Three females in bathtub…no put-on
Scared, hoping this was a no drop zone
First cyclone over…it was no spoof
Uh, oh, second one took the roof---
But not us…Prayed and prayed
God was there, though fear stayed
What happens next...nothing good
Can’t drink the water…
Dysentery, typhoid, cholera—it could
Can’t go to school
Smushed-–classes postponed
Can’t go to church
Smashed---future unknown
Can’t find food
Red Cross helps pick up the tone
Friends hurt, one killed
One man up in the swirl…
Carried him about a mile—life unfulfilled
No limbs left—no head to twirl
People scared another will hit
The normal long gone—some split
Build shelters, that's the name of the game
Yet, life did go on... but nothing ever the same
The Spanish flu started everything off
Now we are excited by a cough
Typhoid Mary, regular gal
Please keep six feet, okay, pal?
Measles, mumps, rubella.
Aids and HIV
And shingles too
Chickenpox
Virus
Sick
Traveling life's murky waters,
Were these brave men.
My friends in dark jungles.
Dying for many who did not care.
Malaria and typhoid invisible enemies;
Still then, that occasional sniper bullet,
Snuffing out a life in an instant.
Fighting for country yet hated by some.
Freedom was all they tried to preserve,
While every night evil pounding helmets.
Unrelenting hatred killing one at a time;
Sometimes a dozen in one blizzard of shells.
Living in a hell on earth to protect liberty.
Seeing dead eyes of buddies seconds ago alive.
Oh to understand what terror really is;
Surrealistic death in drowning bloody color.
Brothers found de-bowled and castrated by enemy,
Bodies hanging from beautiful rain forest trees.
Life bodily fluids dripping to feed their roots,
That horror which still lives in their minds.
Flag red stripes brightened with bloodied courage;
I ask how many Americans truly realize this?
Flying Old Glory only on National Holidays,
Oh that mental pain it has caused so many soldiers.
Coming home to icy cold stares,
Murderers seen in the eyes of some Americans.
Heroes welcome buried in front pages of wrongful war;
Medals tarnished before seeing light of another day.
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
Traveling life's murky waters,
Were these brave men.
My friends in dark jungles.
Dying for many who did not care.
Malaria and typhoid our worst enemies;
Still then, that occasional sniper bullet,
Snuffing out a life in an instant.
Fighting for our country yet hated by some.
Freedom was all we tried to preserve,
While every night evil pounded our helmets.
Unrelenting hatred killing us one at a time;
Sometimes a dozen in one blizzard of shells.
Living in a hell on earth to protect liberty.
Seeing dead eyes of buddies seconds ago alive.
Oh to understand what terror really is;
Surrealistic death in drowning bloody color.
Friends found de-bowled and castrated by enemy,
Hanging from beautiful rain forest trees.
Life bodily fluids dripping to feed their roots,
That horror which still lives in my mind.
Flag red stripes brightened with bloodied courage;
I ask how many Americans truly realize this?
Flying old glory only when under personal siege,
Oh that mental pain it has caused so many soldiers.
Coming home to icy cold stares,
Murderers seen in the eyes of some Americans.
Heroes welcome buried in front pages of wrongful war;
Medals tarnished before seeing light of another day.
Note: This piece is dedicated to all American and Ally soldiers who have ever
been in combat! GOD Bless America and our Allies!
Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved
"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."
© 2014 Robert William Gruhn
When you eat chicken,you get chicken-pox.
When you play polo, you catch polio.
When you color,you catch cholera.
When you descend on people you catch dysentry.
When you like harvesting potato tubers you catch tuberculosis.
When you steal answer you catch cancer.
When you don't like people you catch Aids.
When you eat from a dish in a cafeteria you catch diphteria.
If you continue to tie your headtie you'll get typhoid.
We were small, innocence written all over..
Pulling plaits, dreaming of a new rover.
Crossed paths..when I picked my nose,
While you processed your identity of rose.
She lodged once with me, once with you,
Paving two lines to a tri-angle
Unknown to the world, making our castle,
In between all of the hustle.
Getting our sections changed,
Still ain't letting the sections' brain
I gave you chocolates everyday,
For you to be my hopeful ray.
You made me have fun,while I was on run.
You laid the carpet when I ran all over fret.
Trust was the issue, and you had all my trust.
Mom and dad, bro and sis,
Family became just one in time.
Mendel became our mate, peas turned into ducks.
Chennai became our past, peace tuned into no f*cks.
Halloween and typhoid, I had porridge
and taste buds, we had.
Goodbye farwell was just all cake,
Cause we knew what we had was no fake.
Two years down the lane, and no talk.
Now we're here in the lake, and to rock.
Ranting off all the love that they gave,
Raking off all the sh*t that they gave.
An year of just birthday talks that had followed,
Now we're back in our zones.
Coinciding exams, the busy schedules,
Got newer friends and shifted places,
Still criming again altogether.
MR. PRESIDENT
Your country was fruitful and successful,
You brought up vibrant kids and improved the lives of her subject,
She was the role model for others to follow,
Now she gives birth to the desperate and the weak,
Today she stands in ruins,
Dilapidated building,
Broken houses,
Broken families,
Dusty roads,
Her economy suffers like the typhoid epidemic,
She gives birth to orphans who weep and cry just to have their families back.
Raped at gun point,
Forced to see their children die,
Mr. President!!!
What transpired? What triggered all this?
Mr. President
You exploded like a time bomb,
To change the history and stir your country into civil war,
From its paradise to its hell,
The role model of Africa now a cursed country,
Your citizens desert you like an epidemic,
It’s been left helpless like a ghost town,
Watch it fall like a ghost town,
She was once a country of hope,
She was once the future of Africa,
Africa’s pride and joy.
I'm going through the motions whilst surfing in the sea
Now I’ve contracted typhoid, oh deary deary me!
Raw sewage pumped into the sea really is outrageous
Typhoid is a horrid disease and sadly it's contagious
02~07~17
When I was a little girl
My grandfather had a tin
With a sailor smoking a cigarette on the lid
It was what he kept his medals in
He called them Pip, Squeak and Wilfred
And I asked him what they were
He said the nineteen fourteen star, the British war medal and the Victory medal
From World War One, but they're not rare
He told me his war memories
Could fill many a page
Then said he’d been recruited
Even though he was underage
He told me he’d had a shock
When on the internet he'd seen
That a quarter of a million young men had signed up
All under the age of eighteen
He said recruits had a medical
To make sure they were fit to fight
They must have a minimum chest size of thirty-four inches
And five feet three was the minimum height
He told me he’d heard something
That had really filled him with rage
That recruitment officers got two shillings and sixpence
If they turned a blind eye to someone under-age
He added that he and some old army friends
Used to spend hours chatting on a bench
Recalling a soldier they’d known
Too short to see over the edge of the trench
My granda had asked his friend, a fourteen year old recruit
What on earth he’d signed up for
He reluctantly replied he had clamoured
For the excitement of fighting in a war
He told them of my father’s brother
Who had been the first born son
Blown to pieces at fifteen
Recruited by passing for twenty-one
He didn't survive to get medals
His parents thought of him as brave
Many times since then
I have visited his grave
No remains are buried
Just a plaque that bears his name
A list of lives that were lost
No bodies left to claim
He also told them about the time
That my late Grandma spent
Visiting her beloved Alexander
As he lay in a fever tent
He had typhoid fever
And he managed to survive
The doctors and nurses told her
He was very lucky to be alive
My grandfather would tell war stories
That would chill you to the core
Tales of the atrocities
And casualties of war
In the dark , pit may look like a bed
In anger, heart beats faster than drum
In hunger, eye loses sight
Circumstances, unforseen
Harms and damage , immeasurable.
Lives could snap off in a seconds
Yet, I am here, you are there
Going out , coming in
Like the passengers in a bus
Different junctions we may reach
Parting ways may be inevitable
Relationship and friendship cut short
Yet , I am here , you are there
Difficult or easy it may be
Balanced diet may turn below diet
Rest room may turn toilet
Shoes may become slippers
Wardrobe unchanged for years
Yet , I am here, you are there
The rich get typhoid and all the hypers
They look happy but inwardly sick and dying
Even we, have lost many friends, colleagues and
mates
Riches will come if our creator wish
But with the one we couldn't buy, he blesses us
The life we live and the air we breath
There may be so much we lack
Yet , I am here, you are there......
Alive!
Kongo
Your past is a mint of blood and tears
Daughters tearing their way to decay
Sons castrated by poverty and superguns,
Kongo, a dream battered and bruised
Your conscience poliorised by oppressive dance
Highways clogged with hatred and vendetta
Gutters donating stench and typhoid
Kongo, let my poetry feed your withering dreams for guns, insult the tired memories
Of voters.
Kongo
Deine Vergangenheit ist ein Münzwerk von Blut und Tränen
Töchter die ihren Weg zum Verfall aufreißen
Söhne, kastriert von Armut und Supergewehren,
Kongo, ein Traum, mißhandelt und zerschlagen
Dein Gewissen poliorisiert von unterdrück'rischem Tanz
Überlandstraßen verstopft von Haß und Aktionen der Rache
Gossen spenden Gestank und Typhus
Kongo, laß meine Dichtung deine welkenden Gewehrträume füttern, die müden Erinn'rungen beleidigen -
der Wähler.