We can build an orrery
Yet turn the sky into a junkyard
We're abecedarian, quirky contrarian
Stare decisis from cosmic ovarian
Subaltern, suborbital
Small steps on the heavenly stairway
Pedestrian stardust walking around
Tariffing penguins to tear up the ground
But the stairway is spiral
And it's spiraling down
No escape from the gravity
Found all around
Eyes searching the cosmos
For myopic bliss
In a fallacy galaxy
Far from star-kissed
We're worst when we're first
At least in our mind
Quoting chapter and verse
From each tract that we find
On the ground underneath us
That shifts with each step
Tract's gotten infected
Yet onward we schlep
Each bearing the burden
Of truth stumbled across
When we can patch the thatch
On the roof that we've lost
In that storm of ideas
That threatened the shelter
We've built for ourselves
Unstable ideas full on the shelves
We've forgotten to look
For the beauty inside
While we're gathering dust
From under our feet
Instead of uncovering
What's come from above
While planting our hopes
In the promise of love
Sure since youth she's had chin hair,
But she just does not whatsoever care.
Sure she has always had fine thin hair,
But she will never ever come to care.
Sure she has some ovarian cysts,
But since the start she could care less.
Sure she still makes everyone's lists,
But she can always choose to care less.
Sure she can never conceive easily,
But she can do whatever she likes.
Sure she isn't always taken seriously,
But she doesn't put up with tykes.
Sure she is more irregular than most,
But she refuses to let it keep her down.
Sure she may sometimes feel like a ghost,
But she always turns frowns upside down.
The sad problem was Hannah's ova.
Once they form a baby tears over:
Goal which had made her man rover
Around good clinics now hover...
Placed on Tiger nut and Guava
Locked semen is opened Louvre
Then, Doctor traced cause to Hannah,
Soon after return from Ghana
And it was a blow: Hammer,
From husband a lifted comma.
So, the drugs should not Fred cover,
Rather married Hannah lover,
No need by drug stores pull over,
Picked drugs mere help to stores turn-over.
But then the truth: both are childless
Fred to not say: "I'll bother less".
Ovarian challenge not over,
Caring Husband not in clover.
Yesterday afternoon on March 22nd, I had the paramedics transport me to the Emergency Ward of Swedish Hospital in Edmonds, Washington. And I was diagnosed with Lymph-edema (swelling of the legs) But I praise the Lord for there being no leakage! I did request prayer for me and my family on All Poetry!
If you access this, please pray for my family and for me.
I have to make a followup appointment with my PCD (Primary Care Doctor Kapil Gangwahl) when my home care worker from (Cathletic Community Services) is able to take me on a Thursday. Her supervisor is going to instruct her to take notes from my appointment. But both of my workers are going to try and walk around the building with me.
I sincerely hope and pray to God, our Heavenly Father in Jesus name, will heal my family and for me! He has already healed me from an ovarian cest on my right overy and from Calcification of my left breast! "Let all that has breath, Praise the Lord from whom all blessings flow!" "There by the merciful grace of God go I!" more latter on 3/23/21
mood swing crescendo
ovarian rhapsody
husband takes cover
1/14/2021
An ultrasound scan of my tum
Showed lots of foul gas soon will come
I try to hold it in
But much to my chagrin
Foul farts are shooting from my bum
I could give up on veggies and sprouts
Lush fried onions in large amounts
I do farts loud and quiet
But I won’t alter my diet
My doctor says good fibre counts
Some veggies don’t agree with me
They make me fart so frequently
My hubby doesn’t mind
Thank goodness he’s kind
I have got a big problem you see
You could call me a flatulent lass
Foul wind’s shooting out of my ass
I admit I’ve been windy
Can’t blame our dog Mindy
My doctor says Jan it will pass
A somewhat tongue in cheek poem... but I had an ultrasound last week to check for ovarian cancer as my stomach had been bloated for several weeks... the result of the scan is a cyst on my kidney and ‘lots of gas’ in my stomach which i do not expel in public lol. My doctor is happy I follow a high fibre diet and I think things will get better once I stop eating sprouts lol
* we don't have a dog!
12/09/20
darling dimpled dervishes
dancing delightfully
ghouls goblins gargoyles
gabbing, grabbing, ghosting,
witches wearing weaves,
wistfully watching watchers
dust of night brings Halloween
Outstanding orange ovarian owls
studiously studying steeples,
betting bulbous bats below
will wind-fly down, betwixt and between.
jealously juicing, joyously jeering
Dubiously doubting daring dust of the night.
Ovarian, Breast, Pancreatic, or Lung…
there’s a look that is shared the same
And staring straight into the eyes of time,
all promises gone and reclaimed
Each moment borrowed and leased from your fear,
the walls crashing one by one
Tonight no longer a sleep guaranteed
—under blankets of doubt unsung
(Dreamsleep: March, 2020)
Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome (PCOS)
An insulin-resistant disease in women
Has become prevalent in the past 20 years
PCOS characterized by elevated levels of male hormone
Increase facial hair
Irregular menstrual periods
Infertility
The most common cause of female hormone dysfunction
Infertility
Women with PCOS benefit from a low-carb diet
2012015
Pseudoscrubbing was going on
the scripted drama, words apart.
The tears were denied to him
and the moon slowly made peace on the white
marble of a cult,
and the river had scored a victory.
He was very upset by the absence of
truth. Stupid god did not stand in the
witness box to testify the morality of
man. Genes were deciding the number
of queens. People were still worshipping
a pair of black Najas.
Neanderthal skull marks a step in the
evolution of art. The jaw bone still juts out
to define a mafia don. The slit eyes make
a good pottery class. White poison settles
in the breasts. An ovarian carcinoma
now spreads in bones.
My toes are burning. Cannot walk straight
I am not here. I am not there. I am not anywhere.
SATISH VERMA
Pseudoscrubbing was going on
the scripted drama, words apart.
The tears were denied to him
and the moon slowly made peace on the white
marble of a cult,
and the river had scored a victory.
He was very upset by the absence of
truth. Stupid god did not stand in the
witness box to testify the morality of
man. Genes were deciding the number
of queens. People were still worshipping
a pair of black Najas.
Neanderthal skull marks a step in the
evolution of art. The jaw bone still juts out
to define a mafia don. The slit eyes make
a good pottery class. White poison settles
in the breasts. An ovarian carcinoma
now spreads in bones.
My toes are burning. Cannot walk straight
I am not here. I am not there. I am not anywhere.
SATISH VERMA
Let it remain
ovarian pure. After strangulating
the truth,
for hypoxic euphoria.
Flies in your face
the dirt,
the denial, the terracota
of superposition of speech
hiding self-interest.
Blackened crozier
for wrinkeled crotch
drops the ashes of love
on unopened buds.
Weeping willow sways
in warm winds of prayers.
Strawberry in holes
nothing like bruise.
SATISH VERMA
Hot loom produced the treasured weave
Of ramshackle flesh woven. Sweated conjugation
Of thrust and deep throated grind,
To bind the seminal blood and body.
That produce, that offshoot of impaled loin,
Of lapping womb invite. Genesis penetration
Of love or instant hedonism
To rise the ovarian phoenix.
Some love-lust clay creates perfection
Of savagery and seconds. Nine months incubation
Of period art and swollen beauty flawed
To shape the jewel's faultless facets.
And false gods and artists tear their eyes
Of frustrated inferiority. Failed in emulation
Of the absolute and joyous capacity
To author such creation.
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