Long Asthma Poems
Long Asthma Poems. Below are the most popular long Asthma by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Asthma poems by poem length and keyword.
Like quicksilver changing moods in a day
Cousin Bess defies norms, such freakish will;
A dazed mess about her I can’t even explain…
Whenever late, she blames the neighbor’s cat
For tearing the seams of her outlandish dress .
But we have no kitties along our street…
And she gives excuses, displaying waves of fur,
That are tangles from her soaked hair in bad dye
While she faces the mirror, “Yes, I’m the dame!
Until her face cracks , puffed with layered rouge.
Oh, more bedlam quakes when a grandchild asks
If dear cousin is a walking antique;
“ Don’t ever dare think I‘m that old,” vain Bess fumes…
Everyone giggles inside as chaos runs wild,
Upon hearing her sixty-five year old joints squeak!
To prove the household wrong, she rocks and rolls
Fluttering with a mop, the radio blasting on,
Her eyes crazed by an Elvis' bebop tune…
No, no, quirky Bess’ knees lock from asthma,
Into the hospital we race, forgetting her wig!
Brian Davey’s Contest: Cousin Chaos
6/10/2016
I am looking forward to you February
You usually give me an asthma episode,
Squeezing my throat with your cold air,
Sending me to the hospital.
Not this year, not 2019.
This year I will finish the valentines day party,
Confident and pleased that you did not kill me
That you did not get me down, or upset me.
I am looking forward to you with the
Confidence of a mad man.
I have a new wrap around scarf.
Your below freezing temperatures cannot hurt me.
Come on February.
Give me a taste.
I am outside, standing firm.
Ready to cut out valentines and dance!
Written 2-4-2019 Contest: February 2019
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Transmogrification into hideous golem like beast...
Seeks to lavish adoration,
especially after freshly deceased
cuz, upon yar flesh I will voraciously
devour thee asthma Christmas feast
mee haint not a cannibal,
cuz this humane anthropophagist
expresses love daintily, hungrily,
and with lips smacking and creased
devours thee charbroiled,
chargrilled, raw or greased.
The above worst case scenario if you
ignore serious warning
and interrupt my sleep
particularly during
rapid eye movement phase,
cuz vital to dream unconsciously deep
if left alone (meaning no awakening me
into foggy, groggy, and soggy state)
lest I manifest into a creep
more horrific (think)
by Dickens Uriah Heep.
Ordinarily mine Hyde bound diabolical
persona non grata
kept under wraps
dramatic malevolent manifestation
only appears only,
when requisite precious dream snaps
courtesy when some wise acre
foolish enough upon me noggin
doth drums, joyfully raps
itty in Blue knuckles (think drum),
cuz as An American in Paris
on permanent holiday courtesy lapse
of rhyme reason
(thank prefrontal lobotomy
to alleviate oppressive
anxiety linkedin with)
absence of necessary cerebral apps
induces predilection to relapse
into atavistic Geico caveman perhaps,
with courtesy bonafide frayed jockstraps
suddenly pops, crackles and snaps
in my body whereby sanity doth caps
eyes, that mashing monster aside,
ye ken count me mandate
fiend in Southeastern Pennsylvania
look no further then bleached lovely bones
formerly missus (sob...sob...sob...)
who thankfully no longer zaps.
Thus allowing, enabling,
and providing yours truly,
not ordinarily unruly
a bachelor Matthew Scott,
(but never known as Dani Boy) duly
available as coolie
cooking up house special wooly
mammoth and side order of tabouli.
I am on predizone or nitrachrome or some other such for my asthma kit.
Who invented asthma anyway, and why? It helps absolutely no one my friend!
A result is that I’m a drug addict this week; and I don’t like it the least little bit.
I don’t do well on predizone or Midol or Science Diet or booze of any kind.
My old boss, also my best friend in the world used to say, “Don’t have a fit.”
“Take a pill, stay at home.” She would continue. “ We can do without your mania today.”
It took 4 sleeping pills and a hammer in my head to let me sleep 2 hours last night,
It’s 8 a.m. and I already know my husband Joe’s idea of a good day is to stay out of sight.
I was never going to retire.
I will be dragged out in a body bag at ninety-two I told everyone.
God laughed at my silliness.
He made the drive more difficult, harrowing drivers who almost kill me daily.
He gave me asthma in the hardest way possible.
I took twelve sick days in January and February.
God turned my asthma into pneumonia twice.
Showing me that I am not the boss of me.
I realized that it was time for me to give up my job.
I am retiring in twelve days.
This means no more forty-five-minute drive each way to work.
And I will not have to leave my home in the winter, so that is nice.
It took me a long time to agree that this is going to be the best for me.
I will be 72 years young on May 31st.
Retiring June 1st.
It was time.
Thank you God.
What was missing in my life?
You!
I lived many years without you,
not knowing what I was missing.
One day a surprise came to us
at an unexpected late- in- life date,
it was a baby boy.
He smiled at us with blue eyes
and bald little head,
and we were complete.
I treasured the cuddly feel of you,
fitting into my arms so well,
your weight seemed just right,
to pack you around every day,
even as you grew and grew.
You added an element to my life
that had been missing.
I now learned to slow down,
stop at playgrounds, push your swing
and sit in the one next to yours,
leaning back, looking up into
the crowns of swaying trees.
Taking walks, delighting in gathering fallen
red maple leaves, watching bugs
and birds.
Frogs and crawdads appeared in our bathtub,
I emptied your pockets while doing the wash
of rocks, seashells, dried katidid shells,
sticks and marbles.
I learned that stepping on jacks
at night while going to the bathroom hurts.
On your first fishing trip you accidently hooked a duck
and cried because you thought you hurt it.
I already knew of your compassionate heart.
You and I laughed and cried watching " Free Willy,"
"The fox and the hound" and "Alladin."
You brought joy to my life.
I learned that it is exciting to watch you play soccer,
I cheered and hooted and watched from the bleechers,
while you ran your little heart out,
I watched for signs of your asthma acting up,
but luckily you seem to outrun it.
On the first Halloween you were a little
smiling pumpkin that I pushed in the stroller,
but soon you were running with your buddies,
dragging a pillow case filled with candy,
and I had to scurry to keep up with you.
On your first day of school I was nervous,
I had to leave you with strangers.
Several of us Moms were hanging around the hallway
peeping into the door's little window,
until they made us leave.
Then came field trips, help with homework,
I was "room mother" to be near you and help,
and visited you in the cafeteria at lunchtime
on "Parent's day."
Suddenly, you are taller that me!
The braces came off, and you have a summer job,
and you are very good with it, I am proud of you.
You now have a Highschool Diploma and
are getting your driver's licence,
but you will always be my little boy,
and I will love you forever.
Love, Mom
Words I write...erased
Words I speak comes out one ear
Love I send...hated
Your words left unsaid
But, instead, tucked in my head
Wondrin' when it's said...
I dread the silence
I need you, I want you now
Patience...self-control
Singing and dancing
Playing piano in mere bliss
Thought of you kindly
Then, the atmosphere...
Gets colder and shatters me
Nothing matters...dear...
Words, like birds, release
Out of my once concealed lips
Take a look...hurry!
Please...please...pardon me
But, I express truthful thoughts
Truth hurts, feelings burn
Oceans~emotions~
My ears bleed because of you
Your problems are deep
Cut me open, fenced in
Wounds ripped apart by harsh words
I can break ease-ly
Lost inspiration
Given the impression of
I-Do-Not-Care-Hun
Do what you do best
Speak that speech, so blessed and free
Liberty loves rest
Bargain with me your-
Your words...your-your everything
Don't disappoint me
These lines are meaning-
Less than perfect, but more than
How you just view me...
Damaged to the core
Because your words translate that-
That you don't love me
(Anymore...
Anymore...)
Qin edoba ou liha toghil...hil...
(You abide in the light)
Dona nobis pachem...em...
(Give us peace)
Asthma comes b-back
Backstabbing me for breathing
Happy as can be
Words I make...vanish
Words I speak, earns rejection
Peace I send...jaded
I regret nothing
I'm sorry I'm not sorry
I regret everything
Forgiveness I seek
I lack a leg to move on
I beg you...don't leave
Ignored for life...wowed...
Baked in the oven of angst
Here comes shame cupcakes
Oh I long to hear...
That you're near my side truly
Your response - I fear! ??
Cursed Verses...pure cured
Blessed miracles in disguise
Words unsaid...no comment
(Speechless...actually...)
You were but a dream
You were but a dream
I let out my passion scream
I'm the floating boat and you're my beloved stream
Words left unsaid
I'm off to bed
I'll hear no more of your solitude
Now, I'm naked and ashamed...I'm a ghost in your haven, uninvited and shooed
Marriage to alarmingly ballooning...
dramatically expanding spouse,
when adorning buttons
pop off undersized blouse
which spurs yours truly to grouse,
and ruffle mine tail feathers
while listening to Scheherazade.
Eats her weigh out of home and house
unsolicited feedback courtesy
quite doubtful, she could pose
for playboy and/or penthouse
returning explicit volley
of trailing appellations lobbed
expletive laced epithets
directed at her husband the louse
in lame retaliation deftly
sparring as he doth rouse
himself out of his vittle catatonic state
thus muenster ring cheeses crust
squeaks (me) meek Mickey Mouse.
When I did pledge troth
after courtship she would not abate
aboot two plus dozen years ago
(spoiler alert) wheezing
heterosexually straight
half heartedly accepting her
asthma wife sne...
snee...sneezing mate
even then, she exhibited
appetite for consumption
defying four foot eleven
petite size then, a score
plus quarter years ago lightweight
possessed cute figure.
Now, she eats
non stop while rocking round the clock
stationing, lumbering, burgeoning
girth casting dock
shadows analogous to
edge of night
donning humongous frock
to allow growing room
for extra buttock
vacuuming any/all
comestibles in sight
downing, emptying, gulping
refrigerator contents chock a block
nearly suctioning him,
who doth tongue in cheek mock
think apple pie, yet for
grace of dog ad hoc
anchoring spindleshanks laughingstock
skinny chicken legs (mine)
with knees that knock
worse than concentration camp victim,
(this gentile Jewish atheist gently pock
king fun without intent to rock
the casbah, nor ethnically clash
mainly innocent poetic schlock),
nonetheless chicken legs
repurposed to anchor lock
stock and barrel Matthew Scott
madly flapping wings imitating flock
of seagulls to no avail
this shabby not so chic flabby baby boomer
body, mum mama
(deceased eighteen plus years)
followed dietary strictures touted by
the late Doctor Benjamin McLane Spock,
no matter, I got hoovered
into maw of tee misses,
who instantaneously
spit out awful poppycock.
No Stopping The Carousel Of Time!
The inescapable reality
consigning one at birth
automatically includes no breath
oblige premise, whereat
existence can terminate
with sudden,
and untimely inexplicable death
cruel ploy wrought,
whence randomly begat
into this webbed wide world
grim reaper nonchalantly,
asper macabre Vaudevillian
character cane twirled
automatically infers
cessation of livingsocial
with no forewarning,
where nutty squirreled
memories become indelibly engraved
(photogravure) inherently
pervasive I apprise imperiled,
which ever present
unavoidable demise,
(albeit a bleak thought)
looms larger as orbitz
(demarcating sans initial debut),
each subsequent anniversary flies
faster as staying alive finds
every mortal getting
older, where guise,
which gloomy thought didst arise
with the windmills
of my mind particularly,
sans unwelcome thought,
when my person dies
came to mind, while subtle
diminution to exercise
asthma body, mind, and spirit
approaches sixth decade (come
January 13th, 2019),
the harsh reality lies
within this cognitive,
intuitive, and fully
still operative flesh and bone
aware of becoming deceased
increases in direct proportion
as another year done
and all to quickly, irrevocably gone,
when deplorably belatedly
late life self discover
re: visa vis hone
passion with words specially,
possibly, feasibly encrypted
while supinely prone
on deathbed with
onset of rigor mortis,
yet just barely
enough buffer'n strength
to etch said chicken scratchings,
hens forth before
mine unbeknownst cremation
whereat Facebook friends invited -
cost will be...ahem...
(no more than one rolling stone)
presently concludes any
subsequent poetic endeavors
shot thru with quasi morbid tone.
Alternately titled: Get out of my head mister chatterbox!
While inside me noggin legions
of monstrous demons abhor
protest being force fed
arcane and obscure
assaying into religious dogma
hence mind chatter goes full bore
thus crafting poem quite a difficult chore,
one lightweight bag of bones
basketcase weave gotta deplore,
nevertheless mine tincup rattled
courtesy garden variety eyesore
athwart slip stream
of space/time continuum
twenty two minus
seven years and fourscore
orbitz around black hole sun
scattering cremains galore
camouflage ashes colored like hoar.
Upon prima facie first blush
me mind's eye all atwitter,
sans long forgotten
"FAKE" sexual exploits
set mum (chrysos anthem) all aglitter,
boot like short order cook I hapt tubby
quickly realized trumpeting collusion,
a near fatal collision course
with Matthew Scott's antimatter
caw zing friggin insomnia
finding ma noggin scrambled
likesome lithesome cockamamie critter
whipped into frenzy
like battered butter
holy grits, alm manned in fight of ma life
cause I haint acquitter
baa (jaw edge), ah woe cup feeling
hedged hog extremely bushed 'n bitter,
this raging red bull inside me mind,
now body wheeling wickety wack,
lichen to moss elf gut seasonal litter
bitta asthma - insides
got balled into wah racket
like quietly rioting unfetter
herd plain tennis (see) hens,
gone south tub bespatter
ear rilly jawboning jabberwocky
reducing gray matter,
and all flesh sundered
into meaty platter
to pulverized, irradiated,
cremated... faux fluffernutter batter
analogous tummy Aunt
Jemima's famous flapjacks,
she fantastically fashioned better
than Betty Crocker
tossing spatulated glommed
gook suitable as bonesetter
high as the Taj Mahal,
while she merrily jabbered,
her native patois singsong blatter
all this inaudible clatter
muffled 10,000 maniacs mad as a hatter
madly clangorous dinner cowbells
aroused bacchanalian sybaritic skitter
ring jitterbugging fantasies
of barenaked ladies doth splutter
as bedraggled, frazzled, grizzled...poetry
like cocky rooster that did stutter!