Long Meniscus Poems
Long Meniscus Poems. Below are the most popular long Meniscus by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Meniscus poems by poem length and keyword.
I wished I was a race car driver,
but it took money, and I never had enough.
And women did not do it back in the day,
and now I get so many jollies racing other
idiots on the freeway, I have my racing “fix”
both to work and from work,
so it is not my current wish.
I wished I was a secretary, until I became
on at a company where the other one had walked
off mad, and seven men stood behind me waving
hundreds of pages, yelling that they wanted me to
type their proposals first. I lost forty-pounds in two
weeks, and never got to go to the bathroom,
finally quitting after a little nervous breakdown.
The great news, is that my roommate was
their former secretary, and we had lots
of laughs at their expense while we recovered.
I wished I was a ballerina
But I never took dance lessons
Then I tore my ACL and my Meniscus
so now I barely walk
plus I have arthritis in my feet
and who wants to pay to see a
hundred and eighty-nine pound
sixty-seven-year-old with an apple
stomach in a tutu? Maybe my grandchildren
and the kids at school, and my arch enemy, Sheila.
The day I fell off a chair and damaged my leg
I was amazed, for I had been resilient before
It took me a long time to heal my torn meniscus
I had bruised the bone too
I went from a wheelchair to a walker
Your damage might have been caused by your age
The workman comp doctor said
So they refused to fix it
Saying it would heal itself
It might have if I had been younger
But I wasn’t
Then my eyes went
I found myself holding the paper out
A tiny bit further each day
I started out with one point five readers
Now I am up to point three point five readers.
There are spots on my hands now, I feel like an old leopard
I began to fall apart at age fifty-five
Before that birthday, I felt young and exuberant
My enthusiasm has waned a bit
Thanks to arthritis in both ankles
Which means sometimes when I take a step
it feels like I have broken both ankles
Old age is ridiculously inconvenient
Today I stopped waiting.
I had promised distance.
I never break promises,
but this time,
it was survival.
I ranted a little,
accused a lot,
a disgusting manipulation,
for I must sew the seed,
the opposite of love.
So I am cut off,
I am hated,
and I have totally lost,
control, happiness, warmth,
but I am levelled.
Today I weigh a bit less,
and I move a bit quicker.
This day I cease hiding
from myself
and the truth I denied.
I am free now,
and I will rebuild.
My house will be bigger,
than even back then,
and it will boast a great Master.
My heart is white today,
it's blackness is gone.
My will serves as a ticket
toward the long journey ahead,
destination is justified and fluid.
Those that leave you,
make you a larger vessel.
Once emptied it will hunger
to be filled to it's brim,
with a gorgeous golden meniscus.
Do not run, do not shield,
for it is a valorous goal.
To know the pain you risk
and the robbing of the time,
preluded by hope and satisfaction.
So thank the lovers in a moment of clarity,
thank the thieves of hearts and memories,
think of them as salient and sweet.
For you are enriched and unburdened,
and you are ready to admit the light.
Rage at the dark,
Rant at the ravagers of souls,
but welcome them to the stage.
For to master the act,
one must first master the rehearsal.
Herod put John the Baptist in prison. He was having an adulterous affair with Herodias, his brother Phillip’s wife, and John was saying, “It is not lawful for you to have her.” On Herod’s birthday, Herodias’ daughter danced for Herod, causing the beheading of John. (From Bible, Matthew 14:1-11)
THE WINDS OF CHANGE IN CHAMBER OF THE DEAD
The trouble’s root, the torn meniscus court.
Entertainment unashamedly crass.
The grape is richly poured — white, red import.
A schism scheme, girl’s hips are made of brass.*
She danced so lightning fast, the strikes betwixt
King Herod’s eyes. The drums, the sound of lust.
A pulse needs transfusion, breath-bait transfixed.
His greedy face excoriates a bust —
John’s dripping tongue no further screams — its ink
‘tis wet with appreciation and dread. **
She-paws and dangly skirt — the shark, her wink —
the winds of change in chamber of the dead.
Fermented pheromones, a teasing breeze.
A tantamount twister forced veins to freeze.
11/20/2020
Contest: WINDS OF CHANGE
Sponsor: John Hamilton
Used how many syllables and Merriam-Webster Dictionary
Two places where howmanysyllables.com differed:
*Schism 2 syllables in dictionary
**Gave this line 9 syllables but when I broke line up, it was 10
old age can never get me I said
Putting on my roller skates
I don’t need a helmet I said.
Bam. Crack. Break. Smack.
guess I am not as young as I thought
No problem, a broken leg, big deal.
Not really, I assured myself.
I will heal in an hour or so.
Like when I was twenty
Three hours later my leg is bigger than my house
I have to live in the garage
until the swelling goes down
which takes a couple of weeks
old age will never catch up I said
I did a few jumps off the roof of the garage
breaking bones and tearing my meniscus
what are you trying to do? My children ask
she is just grandma, being grandma, said the grandchildren
now I have arthritis in both legs
shingles, and asthma.
they are following me around like crazy
has old finally caught up?
I sign up for hang gliding lessons.
A charley horse is killing me, so I am dragging my left foot
I cannot meet for lunch, for my face is full of dirty soot
I am limping a little thanks to a torn meniscus on my knee
You will have to have your church tea without little ole me
Arthritis is crippling my fingers, so I cannot do quilting you see
My eyes are doing poorly, so I cannot help with the spelling bee
Baked goods are not possible, my oven is on the blink.
I cannot bathe your baby; there is a cobra in my sink.
I cannot meet you that day; I have an appointment I know.
I despise giving you these excuses because I love you so.
Maybe I could meet you next September for some dinner.
I want to wait until then, in the hopes I might be thinner.
If I was part machine, a steampunk woman, or a steampunk dog, or a steampunk cat,
I would choose to have a machine heart, so I could be less soft.
So my feelings would not get hurt so easily, so I could
Stop crying inside when people get mean and mad,
Or a tsunami kills a bunch of innocents.
I would also choose machine eyes – big round soft brown ones,
Because of the floaties I have in my older green and hazel eyes.
Floaties could not get into steampunk eyes, right?
I would choose bendable, new steampunk machine knees.
They would jump and summersault and do cartwheels and
Other stuff I can no longer do after tearing my ACL and
Meniscus which never got fixed, because it happened
At work and Workman’s Comp told me at my age,
Surgery would not be smart.
They would call me Steampunk Annie, and I would
Run up and down alleys, saving people from the robbers,
And the drug pushers, and I would kick the drug pushers
In their petootsies and make them cry
Because they would not have steampunk eyes
Or anything. I would rock the Steampunk
World with sass and vim, and be
The super hero I know I can be!
I almost slipped up.
Mentioning my step down injury
to my boss.
I clamped up tightly the second I realized.
I had to go through workman’s comp once, four years ago.
Never again.
It cost me $2000 of my own money
And I have a torn meniscus and ACL which
had to heal themselves.
If I break my back, both feet,
fall sixty stories, and my head rolls off,
please drag my dead or dying body
to the car in whatever shape
I am in, so I can get home.
I will always lie now and say it happened at home
where I have insurance that actually works.
Never at work again. I have learned a valuable lesson.
A keyboard was on a typewriter or piano
Spankings were approved of, rarely condemned
Clothing was 'gay' --- brightly colored
They rolled up the sidewalks at 10 p.m.
We said 'heck' for 'hell' and 'darn' for 'damn'
Teachers were respected, never disparaged
Left-handed kids were forced to be righties
Death, not divorce, dissolved most marriages
A click usually meant a torn meniscus
Folks shopped in windows and stores
Cash was king; credit, irresponsible
TV dinners, unanimously deplored
Marathons had fewer than 100 entrants
Devices were mechanical, not electronic
Nobody I knew took showers, just baths
'Human' meant 100% being, not bionic
Everything written above is true
I swear that it is, doggone it!
Linda, you gave me the confidence to be myself without apologizing.
Your kindness was most appreciated, especially without sermonizing.
You took care of my medical needs, and also my spiritual needs.
Your empathetic caring and kindnesses uplifted my depressed seeds.
I had never had a torn meniscus and a torn ACL before that day.
I was in shock, and hurt in every direction, every which way.
Your smiling presence and gentle ways helped me tolerate and stay.
In a hospital which actually made me feel quite sad and gray.
I did not appreciate you as much as I should have, I later found out.
On my third day there, I was given a different nurse, one with a snout.
She breathed too deeply her bumping-into-me stomach stuck way out.
Her manner irritated me greatly and made me want to shout and pout.
When you came back Monday, I wanted to give you a hug and a kiss.
I wanted to tell you how horrible was that other nurse, Little Miss Miss.
But when you told me she was your cousin, I was glad I did not do it.
But I am grateful for you, my friend; your care helped me pull through it!