Long Bronchitis Poems
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- Junior piece of acephalus
go to sleep !
"If you do not do what I tell you,
I'm going to give you serious bronchitis ...!
And if I do, I'll give you a headache.
followed by migraine ...!
your face of stroke ...!
"Father, today you're a maniac,
manic-depressive...
- I do not know bucephalus, it's this virus
that circulates around ... this one of
neurasthenia...?
"What's the matter with you, have you otitis?"
- Not father, it's because of cramps ...
- Cramps, this is your sister's thing!
- It's not that father, it was something I ate ...
- Again eating ...!
-Take this stopper, go ... and go.
sleep later ... take some tsetse flies
to the bedroom you soon sleep ....
- Dad, I'm using another method.
more natural! I loose the lambs.
who are stuck in the closet and start
to count ... and you, your constipation
How do you do ...?
"Now, you little , I use a little
of poison extracted from the Amazonian toad ...
it's shot and fall ... I die instantly,
I mean sleep instantly ...!
"And poor mother, father!"
always with their anxiolytics ...
- It's your mother always with her methods
pseudo scientists, this medicine
allopathic ... with nothing!
It's this passiflora, serene, sleep well,
all natural ... Legal is your sister,
who sleeps all night only with
the hammer I put on her head ...
- Steel hammer, father ...!?
"What, nothing, rubber hammer, these
of disassembling car body ...
- Good evening, schizophrenic father!
- Good evening your diarrhea ... or better
that scientific word dysentery ... he, he, he,
I do not know... !
I once worked with a youth who had gingivitis
Twenty years younger yet she already had arthritis
Pretty enough in spite of her dermatitis
She so craved attention we all thought caused by meningitis
Winters seemed worse with time off due to bronchitis
Bouts in hospital for appendicitis and diverticulitis
Regularly like clockwork she came down with severe vacationitis
After each self-prescribed vacation she’d strangely suffer from moneyitis
She talked our ears off we kept hoping she’d get laryngitis
But no, it was only bursitis and colitis followed by gastritis
Ms. Black sure was high maintenance with her neurosis and neuritis
AP: 1st place 2025, Honorable Mention 2020
Doctor determined I've got bronchitis
Use to think bronchitis was serious
It's serious enough but certainly not fatal
Once thought it could make you delirious
Don't get me wrong, I'm not feeling that great
It's like my whole system is in a knot
I'm certainly not one to suffer from illness
Quite healthy I always have thought
Guess age is finally catching up with me
Free from illness all of these years
Thought I was some kind of special being
Sure got it wrong, that's clear
It's not going to threaten my life I'm told
But it's terribly annoying I'll say
Puffing away every morning, noon, and night
No peace, no relief all the day
Good thing the prognosis is I'm going to live
If I follow the doctor's directions
Take the pills that she prescribed for me
Till I'm good and rid of the infection
© Jack Ellison 2013
Did Robert Browning say it best when he
wrote, “winter takes the old ones”? Possibly.
Bronchitis, pthisis, whooping cough, T.B. –
they ran amock in 1863.
I trust it’s not too jarring if I jump
from modern miseries (ecoli, Trump)
to mid-Victorian London’s social rump,
and John Snow (doctor), and the Broad Street Pump.
The City Hall had never heard of germs.
They dealt with filth and foliage and firms,
and knew that there were parasites called worms.
But cholera? They couldn’t come to terms.
The water pump in Broad Street was infected.
Bacteria, back then, went undetected.
“Miasma” and “air pressure” were suspected:
how could the population be protected?
Oh lucky London! By sheer happenstance,
within the metropolitan expanse
young Doctor Snow was working, and by chance
had learned of recent studies made in France.
“They’re tiny animals, too small to see.
I’ll prove it, if you trust the Pump to me.”
Officials sneered with incredulity:
but, faced with daily deaths, gave him the key.
He knocked on every window in the quarter,
and showed (despite initial mayoral hauteur)
that cholera was carried in the water.
And, single-handed, John Snow stopped the slaughter!
Hi dear friends, I’m back after a bad shingles attack and straight after that bronchitis verging on pneumonia.
Little Robin red breast bobbing up and down,
Would take away with glee, anybody’s frown
And friendly buzzing Mr Bumble bee delights,
Us one and all, he does not sting, it’s not his thing.
He visits flowers , red, yellow purple , pink and blue,
Which attract him, loves their pollen and alluring hue.
One day bumble bee and little robin decided to be human,
So prepared for tea and pancakes, without the gluten,
They saw Katy the caterpillar crawling on the lawn,
And invited her to join them, the following morn at dawn,
They all met for this fun occasion by the nearby river,
But an uninvited visitor arrived with shiny wings, such a diva.
A Hadeda elegant and loud of call thought she was an opera
Singer, had one thing on her mind, which was Katy Caterpillar,
She slowly walked on her stalk like legs towards this prickly
Little insect, wanting to swallow Katy who was so wiggly,
Down her gullet, but Robin red breast said no no, no,
And Bumble bee agreed and said, I think you ‘d better go
So with his wide spread wings the Hadeda flew away,
Leaving Bumble bee and little Robin to enjoy their day,
How wonderful was their idea for pancakes and tea.
Another visitor arrives, so famous, known to you and me,
Can you guess who.
He wears a top hat, mutters crazy sayings,
And carry’s a full tea pot , ‘do you want a cup of tea,
Oh dear, oh dear, my or me, he or she or maybe you.
He takes his watch out of his waist coat pocket and says,
‘I’m late, I’m late for a a very important date, no time to
Say hello goodbye I’m late I’m late I’m late’
‘It’s time for me to go,
Au revoir from your dizzy beau.’
It was the Mad Hatter, of course,
An Alice in Wonderland source.
What happened to Katy caterpillar, well fearing
For her life, Katy crawled under a nearby bush,
Did not intend to be a snack, or mealtime mush.
NB – THE WORDS UTTERED BY THE MAD HATTER – are both from the book Alice in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll and some of my own.
HADEDA IBIS - referred to in South Africa as only Hadeda.
Topics of conversation seem to change as we approach maturity.
As kids we talked of love - now it's lumbago and social security!
It once was enlightening to simply discuss the weather,
But now it's a litany of their ills when oldsters get together!
When a teen we bragged about that first voluptuous kiss.
Now all we can do is talk about such and lamentably reminisce!
Girls whispered amongst themselves and cast a furtive glance,
At the high school "hunk" pining for a torrid romance!
In our courting days, sweet talk we'd whisper in the other's ear.
Now it seems we must yell to be heard unlike in yesteryear!
As married folks we debated about money, bills and kids,
Exasperating table-pounding sessions where we'd flip our lids!
Seems that no matter where senior brethren congregate,
With each other their aches and pains they must enunciate,
Discussing the woes of arthritis, phlebitis and laryngitis,
Bronchitis, bursitis, gingivitis, dermatitis and gastritis!
I reckon I could simply say, "Gee, you're looking swell!"
Then perhaps upon these gloomy topics they might not dwell.
I enjoy repartee with folks about religion, politics and sports,
But talk of doom and gloom leaves me sorta outta sorts!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
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