Was it Banting and Best,
Collip and McLeod’s feat ?
Whose efforts bore fruits,
And ‘Insulin’ was discovered.
Or was it the Compassionate Creator.
Who really Sorted out the pancreatic mystery,
And Granted man the sense,
To perfect the pancreatic extract,
That was injected to people with diabetes,
Safely and successfully !
A new era dawned in the history of medicine.
Many hopeless souls,
Got relieved and cheerful.
On being Gifted Insulin,
The “lifeline” so much awaited before.
Since that landmark discovery,
Diabetes has witnessed many more breakthroughs.
Each one a lesson, to the faltering human.
Not to despair and to carry on the struggle,
Despite upheavals and failures.
And never to loose the trust on our ‘True Benefector’.
We should always strive keeping us upright,
And keep words and deeds like a mirror.
Kindling the dreary paths for others,
And rescuing fondering hearts, from deep waters .
Ahead, Medicine has many more challenges.
Diabetes also needs more plunges,
Into the oceans of research and practice.
As in 1921, the insulin got invented.
May one day, “Diabetes” get eradicated.
Let’s use these poetry roots to reach the youth.
Plant in the seeds to succeed, bear fruit
For them to express their truth.
Life can sometimes drag you down, so let
These words be a lifeline and give you a boost.
Let them who have ears to hear be present here
Tear away the shackles that ensnare, open eyes
Inside beware awaken from a programmed slumber
Called being conditioned and unaware.
Let these poetic words catch and dry every tear of
He or she who comes near bold and without fear.
If your sunlight has been buried or refuses to shine
Let me be your lifeline no matter the day or time.
Let’s use these poetry roots to reach the youth.
Plant in the seeds to succeed, bear fruit
For them to express their truth.
Life can sometimes drag you down, so let
These words be a lifeline and give you a boost.
Let them who have ears to hear be present here
Tear away the shackles that ensnare, open eyes
Inside beware awaken from a programmed slumber
Called being conditioned and unaware.
Let these poetic words catch and dry every tear of
He or she who comes near bold and without fear.
If your sunlight has been buried or refuses to shine
Let me be your lifeline no matter the day or time.
Night bring terrible memories,
shadows of yesteryears,
it takes my breath away
in fears, anguish and hell.
An ugly wolf runs after me
as I slither in the mud
heart beats burst my chest with pains.
Please take away those forces
that rumble in my midriff
driving me crazy with dread.
I cannot cry, I can only pray
that dawn arrives
with its damask cupola
when stars fade away
and the moon hides its face in shame.
Why is the break of day so far away?
I lie numb on the settee
Perspiration running down my cheeks.
I skate near life's edge
I try to grab a lifeline,
find only puffs of hot dry air.
And time goes by so slowly,
pain like the claws of an eagle
squash my soul of its life.
No, I will not cry, I will only pray.
Dear God, thanks,
You've given me a new day.
Corona is strewn all over like rune
All inhouse stores, I will need to deeply prune.
I need to stay in to help it pass out
Will share with others to clear any rout.
Born in a crowd, one will vanish alone
In solitude, need to pray and atone.
during sickness, need to cooperate
Will do some good in moments desperate.
Near ones do send messages or make call
and together they will see it through all.
They cajole them on to keep still and hold
Love is like a life line, it makes them bold.
3.5.2020
Strings pulled
Man moves
Mouth moves
Man Listens
Money paid for show
Man is poor
Long nose
Lies are told
Puppet in box
Man is gone
more defining than my laughlines the line above my cocked brow
17.12.20
Composed for S. Grace's
"wonderful one liners"
But she sees things
In a different light
Where most would land
She takes flight
What seems simple to most
She couldn’t quite master
Her peers, on a float
She’s climbing a ladder
Some things, however,
Come easy as pie
She’s witty and clever
She sees the big why
A word generator
And charmer to boot
High class negotiator
And a looker too
An artist of course
A starving dreamer
Acknowledged the source
Friendly demeanor
Sprucing up the world
With aesthetic hues
Such a colorful girl
Liberal views
Never an outcast
In her circle
Her horizons vast
From yellow to purple
Her equivalent bubble
Housed all walks of life
For, she knows the struggle
Of balancing the line
Oh hearken the struggle, life's gossamer threads,
The delicate sway of hope ...
Framed by churning white of Lord Neptune's might,
Faith dangles a slender rope.
Wan maiden, her savior, and a scarlet shawl,
Battered by surf and gale ...
Yet our faceless hero and his capable arms,
As sure as the damsel, frail.
Mostly monochromatic, all its tones of gray,
Save for the kerchief, red ...
While turbulent struggles around them rage on,
We center that shawl instead.
We see not the others who attend the line,
But imagine them nonetheless ...
The artist connects them with the lanyard, strong,
And so intimates their distress.
The distinctive edges and leaf-like waves
Are peculiar to Winslow's style ...
As are the rare stories his paintings tell,
That enamor us, and beguile.
While he traveled afar and painted it all,
And was a celebrated roamer ...
He loved my home state of Maine the best,
And so truly was a HOMER.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Celebration of Art Poetry Contest", Kim Rodrigues, Judge & Sponsor.
I look up from my post, lying on the floor
Questioning the cracks in the ceiling above me
Likening them to my recent history
Stretched from end to end
Wall to wall
They mimic my life
Like jagged scars
A life-line transcribed
From palm to plaster
Split here and there, seemingly without rhyme or reason
Yet I know it has a cause
A beginning and therefore, an end.
And in between I witness an uncertainty
Will the cracks expand?
Run amok?
Split the surface and break?
Or will they hold up the sky
with an unerring strength
As it has since that first tendril started to run across the clean slate,
Of wood and paint, heart and soul, above my world.
Cracks let the light in don’t they?
Yes, love
They do
© Cornelia aka Flying Angel 2015
get it too
its for you
something go wrong
while you rome
you have a
LIFE LINE PHONE
Not even one last goodbye.
Just gone out of nowhere, out of sight.
Never thought i was blind to see,
That your pain was worse even then,
A smile on your face.
I was stupid not to think of what was going on,
I was wrapped up in all of my problems.
And i forgot about yours after all.
Even the thought of you not being around,
My tears fall and fall.
And i have no clue what to do.
Im lost in a daze not the first of them all.
No man is worth the tears,
Nor worth the time.
If there is a life line.
From now and till then.
I am here, with a shoulder.
So don't leave without a goodbye again.
He hears her crying
on the other end of the phone
but on the inside hes dieing
becuas shes home alone
suisides the word
dancing in her head
and now hes silently crying
leaning on the edge of his bed
he pleads for her
not to give in
she sais it works
but the thoughts come back again
how he wishes he could stop the pain
the she could se
theres nothign to gain
but in the end
its her choice to make
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.