Friday, October 10, 2014

 

Haiku Friday: Illness


I'm fascinated by the way people respond to the idea of an epidemic.  Not every disease is part of an epidemic, though, and not every illness is serious.  

Let's haiku about sicknesses today-- serious, not serious, or just the fear of illness.  Here, I will go first:

Old red flannel shirt
It is my "sickey boy shirt."
Works every time!

Now, you go!  It can be about you or someone else, serious or not… just make the first line five syllables, seven for the second, and five for the third.

Comments:
Sore Throat all week long.
Recovering so slowly;
Will phlegm ever end?
 
If strep throat finds me
Tetracycline doesn't work!
Give me a z pack!
 
African cabbie
Physiognomy finely
Molded.Honey voice.Where is he from?
Ask it. Ask it. I

Force myself to wait.---
Ethiopian..Thank God.
I shake his hand strong.

What must it be to
Be sick,dying...no one to
hold you..Forgive me.

 
"What do you mean, sick?"
My mom would say, skeptical.
"You're going to school!"
 
Wee Dram Geordie
said so much with so few words
he is forgiven
 
Tylenol, bourbon,
Keep the symptoms far away,
Do my feet touch ground?
 
He's been out of school
More than he's been in, this month
Mommy needs a break.
 
Tiny invaders
I hold her wet, cold hand tight
Another long night.
 
A phone call, gasp, breathe
She sensed I already knew
Silent tears begin

Be honest with me
What can I do to help you?
Hesitation, miles...

I hear strength, but her
voice quivers with fear, friends hug
Reassuring words
 
WHEN ASTHMA CAME TO THE FARM


When evil wind came
To over lungs not in, I
Became a rusted

Hinge, cobwebbed rocker
A child of the nearly dead .
I sat gasping for

Air. For one easy
Breath. Pollen swirled above my
Machinery clogged.

Had I forgot how
To breathe? I had. I can't . O
MAMA! Drowning...n o w


 
We'll all wear gloves. All
The time the moments when we
Fear.Which are all the

Moments. We will kiss
Gloved.Perhaps even our lips
Will be gloved. Will we

Ever again reach
For body and blood with bare
Vulnerable hands.

I suppose fear will
Be our daily bread and we...
we will wear plastic.

 
Ebola sounds like
Voluptuous African
Wife,dancing in the

Kitchen,hands full of
Taro mango. Don't be fooled!
Head hot,bones ache ...Blood

Hospitality
She gives you, everyone you
Love, Total Strangers:

It's Death Darlings,no
Doubt about that.Think of the
Whole continent: enslaved

Yet again...to Death.
Mercy.Mercy Children.Save
Us.You fret for self.


 
You can not control It
All,Carlo,my mio. Soon
The Ender of Things

Will catch you dreaming,
Tenderskin,and place a wen
The shape of an isle

On your latte chest.
Or an obstacle in your
Inner home and it


Will be travel time
Again as it was once,when
You were fresh from Heaven
 
This comment has been removed by the author.
 
Tobasco sauce
and a slice of onion drive my
colds away, screaming.
 
The old man loved his
Princess,cotillion belle ,but
A stroke stilled his left

Side. He became Prince.
His Darling doted upon
Him 'til she stubbed toe.

Black it got. She tried
Remedies of home.No good.
Diabetes surprised

Her...so did death. Now
He sits in the home. And courts
Her from afar. His "Nell."

 
Steel Dino-Vise clamped my
Brain. My thoughts could go neither
Left nor right but straight

To Sheol.The Doom
Unspecified would not let
My spirit go. Down,down

I went jouncing in
And out of my scalded skin
Like a crazed lobster

I was not me. A
Strange Leper soiled my tunic.
No one would embrace me.

They put me into
Sanitary confinement
With other sick folk.

I talked about myself
'Til my stripes blende. Pills
Pills,Pills.Yellow rose bloomed
 
Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link



<< Home

This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?

#