Short Diabetic Poems

I want I want want
Chocolate on the table
Can't have diabetic...

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Strangely sweet on you
sadly, you got sick of me;
diabetic love....

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I wished her sweet dreams every night
She slept long to sweat
She is now diagnosed for diabetic!...

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Some fudge
Begrudge
Covet
You bet


Sponsor: Judy Konos
Contest:Footles...

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My blood loves sugar
my liver loves gall
your kiss is sweet
your nausea is salt
I'm diabetic for you
in the mix of everything
I'm not bad
at all !...

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My old friend who is a diabetic
Decided to become an ascetic
  Denies himself pleasure
  Even in small measure
Can't even screw himself ~ How pathetic!...

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We knew Trump was purely pathetic;
Also leaping, lewd and lascivious skeptic; 
Bizarre;
Should see scar;
He had been overweight and a diabetic.

Jim Horn...

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We knew Trump was purely pathetic;
Also leaping, lewd and lascivious skeptic; 
Bizarre;
Should see scar;
He had been overweight and a diabetic.

Jim Horn...

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supercala diabetic ketoacidosis 
if you get it you will know it
 don't be so precocious
supercala diabetic ketoacidosis
um diddle dee um diddle lie
lose a foot, lose an eye
eat good foods, take your meds
maybe you wont die...

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John's a diabetic
And should avoid eating anything sweet
I found it pathetic
And made some biscuits for a treat
I made two dozen biscuits
And put them in the oven on a tray
After I cooked them
John ate a dozen straight away...

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misplace this misplace that
and we’re both fighting fat

we’re two of a kind
you are quite a find

we’re not the Odd Couple
mine green hers purple

she’s diabetic
my brain went static

life’s full of ups and downs
found love in a sea of clowns...

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Sugar is sweet
But, too much of it makes you sick
And may die diabetic and despondent.

Love is sweet
But too much of it makes you insolvent
And may die too dependent.

Better moderate and milder
As it makes you somber
But the sweetest word ever 
Is LOVING YOU  forever!...

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Cucumber

early morning
I had to eat something 
found a cucumber in the fridge
that was otherwise bare.
Peeled and boiled them added a bit of butter
and a pepper
stirred well when cooked and I had 
mashed cucumber.
It tasted terrific a wonder for a diabetic 
I have to remember til next time 
the cupboard is bare....

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Pardon my parlay
but I haven't invested
or infested the time to
infiltrate or be a tart

only because 
sweet tarts are much
maligned
for tempo of mandible
treatment
and cavities of the 
soul

so when the schucking of skin
begins again
I'll wish for corn syrup
splashing all over
your wheat husk

I am diabetic....

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Easter, and the mystery
unfolds in the hearts
of chocolate rabbits.
Some still believe,
in the capacity of eggs to
resurrect joy,
or they race within chicken runs,
to celebrate a pre-diabetic date,
while other's only offer up
painted shells.
The mystery will continue,
just as long
as we play these games,
of hide and seek....

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Grandma doesn't like to talk
so I don't ask why they don't
bury Grandpa stuck with us in basement?
Grandpa was diabetic and went into coma when
the bombs kept falling and we all bend our heads in prayer.
Grandma doesn't move anymore and I just watch her
disappear.
I'm hungry, cold, and bored. They want to kill us all, don't know why....

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We fascinated the neighborhood.
finding things to meet us, the new neighbors.
Could I perhaps borrow a cup of sugar?
We apologize for the lack of cups.
Laughing, I am using my own cups.
But none of us consume sugar.
Are you diabetic, by any chance?
We are... diabolical, to be sure.

Written: November 19, 2022...

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if when I walk 
on concrete sidewalks 

stop at the bakery window 
full with pastry

covered in chocolate 
and creams 

I notice 
in the reflection 

a new roundness 
to my frame

and I begin  
to worry 

about You
the new medication 
 
this heaviness 
in my chest 

just keep walking
your parents are diabetic


By Mike Butler...

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dearest Eve... please forgive...
your poem... delectable...
your chocolates... delicious...
if i wasn't diabetic...
the lot I would of finished...
so i'll paint you a picture...
call it payment in kind...
with words I keep...
for special occasions...
like saying sorry...
for my guilty pleasure
hoping you'll be kindness...
personified... ...

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The pace
  I walked for 50 minutes
 Inhaling fumes of cars, it is like
 Living in a roundabout
The see air on the seventh floor
At my flat, the air is healthier
But I walk every day because
It is suitable for my diabetes
And it makes me slimmer
Only the walk makes me hungry.
It makes me wonder if
The great and late president Chirac
Walked the street of Paris?...

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He kept buying her sugar because she liked it.
He bought her pies, cakes, puddings and fast foods too.
She was a diabetic, so these goodies were bad for her.
But it made her feel so good.

For a few minutes until her blood sugar elevated to The Twilight Zone.
“Maybe this will do the trick,” He said.
Bringing in sixteen additional bags of goodies filled with white sugar....

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Shakespeare wrote that "Love is blind"

Lennon told us "Love is the flower you've got to let grow"

Proust believed "Love is space and time measured by the heart"

Segal said  "Love means never having to say you're sorry"

Yesterday, 
when I told a pharmacist that 
I have to inject my diabetic 
cat with insulin twice a day, 
she said "that sir, is truly love"

Who to believe?...

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I am seventy-one
I could die at any second.
I tell this to my nurse.
She says “stop!”
She calls me silly.
I am seventy-one.
I like it.

I had a peanut butter cup and creamed soda for breakfast I say.
the nurse does not respond.
I am sure I am a diabetic I tell her.
I have ballooned up like a fat sow these last few years.
She laughs.
“Stop it! “She says.
“You forgot to call me silly,” I tell her....

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Stained by blood my lips of red,
and diabetic sweet.
Full of flesh from inside out,
of all the souls I eat.
Trembled true and full of fear,
of guilt that's laid upon me.
I cannot change my course of time,
for time will not disarm me.
Tattoos become the marks and scars,
upon my flesh to handle.
Smaller is the head of each,
to me has is the animal.
Picking through the meat in teeth,
I am for worse the cannibal......

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Dark as departure 
and sweet 
as reunion, it’s a 
romantic 
syrup resembling
an expat’s 
life. A sublime 
state of
sweetness like a 
wife’s wait.  

It’s forbidden to
a diabetic 
patient, but who 
commits an 
ecstatic sin, violating.
Rapture of
now is in a negative 
impulse.

The expat squeezes
dry desert
for sweet syrup.
One sip 
tempts into another.

First appeared in The Literary Hatchet (Pear Tree Press, US)....

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