#flu
I know I’m really shaking the flu thing because I awoke at 4am totally energised. The first thing I did was Lysol all of my computers and gadgets. Peter was sleeping, but holding the Lysol can, I eyed him - finally deciding that spraying him down might wake him up.
At 4:30am I texted Charles, “Let’s run” and he was grinning outside my door at 5:30am (our regular time).
Why did they remake the Wuthering Heights movie? We had to read WH in 10th grade - it’s like 350 pages of unhinged gossip and Heathcliff, the dark, Byronic, anti-hero is a paranoid narcissist that any modern girl would dump the first time he mouthed off.
None of my Grammy picks, though nominated, won anything. I guess I’m old and out of touch.
HP - I’m getting used to the new HP but one thing drives me crazy. If I’m making a long comment, and I tab away for a moment (for an incoming Insta post or something) the HP comment I’ve been slaving over is lost!!!!! ARGH!!. Luckily, I’ve learned not to throw my laptops when provoked.
sad, fat, cat hat - I suppose I had to rhyme something.
see ya.
.
.
Songs for this:
The world I used to know by Rod McKuen
Better Everyday by sadHAPPY
Kissing Strangers by DNCE
Dive In (feat. Notelle) by Westend
Feb 3
Feb 3, 2026 at 6:48 AM UTC
I’m finally starting to feel normal (I had the flu)
It’s hard to read or write with shifting temperatures
to make the mental notes required for homework
to focus on the clinical, virtual classes that put me to sleep.
It’s a story as old as time - girl catches something
and either she dies or she doesn’t.
So today (Sunday) feels sharp, tactile and earned.
The Grammy’s are on tonight - does anyone watch them any more?
With so many artists finding and building audiences online rather
than on radio and the fading print media, getting a Grammy in 2026 seems like a secondary co-sign of success rather than some life changing achievement.
THAT being said, I think it’ll be a big year for Chappell Roan, Teddy Swims, Sabrina Carpenter and Charli xcx.
See ya!
.
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2026 Grammy nominated songs:
Good Luck, Babe! by Chappell Roan
Beautiful People (Stay High) by The Black Keys
Espresso by Sabrina Carpenter
Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan
Feb 1
Feb 1, 2026 at 12:46 PM UTC
Middle age is a drawer of bottles,
labels rubbed blank,
small tablets stamped
with numbers I can’t read,
others chalk-white,
anonymous as bones.
That August night I woke,
a moth in the moonlight,
wings two halves of a Viking ship.
They say if it maps all four corners
you’re finished.
My head bricked with mucus,
her throat raw-
our marriage a duet
two instruments coughing through the score.
I whispered- moth,
as her eyes opened, dim glow like sunken lanterns.
It weighed two thousand pounds,
wings lifting her hair
like a bride of the dead.
Two optimism pills
waited on my table.
I chewed them dry,
cementing my tongue,
the insect’s brain ticking in my skull
like a clock in a gothic castle.
Then water rose inside us-
first a seep, then a tide,
spilling warm rivers across the floorboards.
The dark room brightened green,
cypress arms cracked plaster,
reeds whispered spells older than fever.
Fireflies stitched lanterns along the walls,
crocodiles slid through like priests of the river.
We held hands as the bed turned pirogue,
drifting through brackwater green.
Above us the moth circled-
no longer omen but guide,
its wings stirring moonlight into spell.
Papa Legba opened the crossing,
Maman Brigitte lit the reeds with flame.
We: two elders slipping from sickness into swamp,
breath turned to whirlpools,
our oaths ferried
on the moth’s traité tide.
Sep 1, 2025
Sep 1, 2025 at 3:03 PM UTC
There once was a man with a flu
Who ran in the night to the loo:
He stubbed all his toes
In consecutive rows
While filling his knickers with poo.
Feb 22, 2025
Feb 22, 2025 at 12:17 AM UTC
You didn’t realise just how easy
it was to slip
how you can lose track
lose count and how quickly
a habit can become addictive
Once you get the taste for the hit
you find yourself reaching for it
and before you know it, you’ve slipped
into a dependency - fortunately
this time you’re only a *****
for Lemsip
Jun 7, 2022
Jun 7, 2022 at 4:50 PM UTC
This morning brings another count
of ailments that have attacked me,
as viral matter drifts unseen in the air
impossible to keep track of.
The mirror shows my tired face,
so pale and paper-thin,
while symptoms wear my body down
and make my poor head spin.
I am too weary now to catalogue
each ache, each pain, each sigh;
The simple truth is all that's left
and I'm barely getting by.
This not-so-wonderful existence
drags its feet along,
my routine is all out of tune,
as I snuffle a half-forgotten song.
I'm death warmed over, so they say
though warmth feels far away,
as I shiver through the unbearable hours
of yet another long and miserable day.
©️Lizzie Bevis
Jan 30, 2025
Jan 30, 2025 at 3:25 PM UTC
Hark and Come Hear Ye Here
Ye loyal subjects of the king
Reports from the borders of our principality
warn of a gruesome pestilence spreading unseen,
This devilish scourge of affliction is Coming!
Beware of the telltale signs of corruption
In the countenance of those under siege of this heretofore unknown malady.
It has been documented
by trusted physicians that certain aspects of one’s physiology
Will present themselves shortly
before the fever of madness and fear
Takes control.
Take Heed of thy neighbors
Behaviors and be wary of
Changes occurring in regards to
Their normal routine.
If boils or bleeding of orifices be
Witnessed report the citizen to the nearest authority
Once the outward expression of the putrification is upon them, it is but a fortnight until they succumb to the terrible fate of mortality. Those most beset by the pox of this plague are without exception in a state of aggravated nervous disorientation. Keep safe, keep your distance, and warn others around you of such individuals afflicted, lest ye contract the pox, for there is as yet no alchemical remedy
Be wary of these ghouls wandering the streets
Muttering manically, wreaking of decay, flailing and gnashing their teeth in a rage.
If one of the accursed creatures approaches, It is a mortal encroachment ye must evade.
Make right with the lord and keep the faith, our souls stand for judgment, ensure yours will be saved.
Take heed of these warnings here given this day.
They are not to be ignored if you wish to survive
Mar 9, 2024
Mar 9, 2024 at 6:24 AM UTC
Crumbling.. changing, stumbling.. aware of..
the unattended now cold non brewing..
Sadness creeping..
Feelings of.. turning..
As I 'm searching sources of it..
Heartaches..
ahh ah ha.. There..
seems the warmth has no care.
Room check, maintenance request in room 5..
Heart chamber.. Private Estate.. wayside.
**** it.. ok..
No quick fix..
without admit..
So yeah.. slow brewing storm.. of pain...
No fun.. no at ease..
no its coldness...On my sleeve.. sorry .......
@Me.._You..
Even a cold coffee of brew..
Including a cold *** of stew.
Sad cold.. turning to symptoms of flu...
By @Shardayes Poetry Room..
11.28.23
Nov 28, 2023
Nov 28, 2023 at 11:49 AM UTC
I discharge ;
a laugh without kindle
(not from the origin of tune
and mastication)
from an orifice of wound
a hack of mushroomy dry fleck :
the taste touches the back of the airways
and takes to the brain in an ail
ideas slurry
my actions blur
I fumble about my living space
my balance
pained ears
fall to floor
an ug at the back my throat
I laugh from all fours
vision reddens
unhinged at the jaw
my neck
shoulder muscles punting
my logged and leaden head lolling
a laugh of hurt
a ******* of saliva
detonates on the carpet
is there blood in that ?
sickness on the verge
of being brutally provided
"So dramatic !"
my wife passes me a glass of fruit juice
and an aspirin
preventing the transformation
a gentle chiding
Mar 22, 2021
Mar 22, 2021 at 12:49 AM UTC
I swear, my parents act like they were never teens in a pandemic growing up.
I was watching “Perry Mason,” an HBO show set in the 1930s. Perry gets mail out of his mailbox and I think “no GLOVES??” This pandemic has a hold of me.
6:30am I’m finishing my shower - wrapping my hair in a towel.
Mom: from my room “I have something for you!”
Me: “OK.” (I’m curious)
I step out of the shower, wrap on a towel, and my mom steps up and gives me a flu shot without so much as a “by your leave.” Dr. Surprise strikes again.
My arm hurts =/
Writing a paper, on my computer, in class - I try to use the perfect word but I spell it so badly the spell checker gives up and in effect, says “I got nothin’.” I switch words.
Telling a girl to calm down is like trying to put a cat in a tub.
My parents think every guy I talk to is my boyfriend.
If I’m texting and smiling my parents think I have a boyfriend.
I say, I don’t know” when I don’t care.
For ALL of its downsides virtual school is better because:
My two BFF and I have a facetime call going ALL school day so
we can say snarky things about everyone..
I can listen to music on my headphones during classes.
I have multiple screens so I can web-surf during classes.
I don’t have to wear shoes or a skirt!
I can put a video up so it looks like I’m paying attention.
I can snack/take a bathroom break whenever I want to.
I don’t have to carry a backpack or make locker stops.
I can be late or leave early and blame it on “tech issues”.
Sep 4, 2020
Sep 4, 2020 at 6:24 AM UTC
Looking Up Locking Down
When is a lockdown not a lockdown?
When is a pandemic running its course?
Looking up, I see beautiful days, sunshine and flowers,
Clouds nowhere to seen in clear blue sky
But the warm soft air is full of danger.
So too, we are told, is being less than two metres
From a stranger.
No pleasant smiles or Good Mornings -
We cross the road, step into stranger’s driveways
Anything to avoid closing the gap,
getting too close to a fellow human.
I am dehumanized. Unhappy at the fear people have
At the sight of me
And the fear my children and grandchildren have
At the thought of a visit, which once brought joy
With (now forbidden) hugs.
Not long now say the country’s masters
Soon we’ll unlock the lock
But will we ever again feel trust and ease
In our restored freedoms?
How strange to hug and smile a greeting
When its been so long since our last meeting.
AEB April 2020
May 4, 2020
May 4, 2020 at 10:07 AM UTC
Funny how soon normal creeps up on us
and clears away the strangeness
with each sweep of the broom.
The sky looks the same as it did,
we walk, side by side, as we did.
And the death toll mounts, the police checks grow
We can measure metres without a rule
(though we did feet and inches when at school)
We learn to use Whatsapp and Skype,
just to see our families’ faces.
then we disinfect our phones, wipe away the traces.
We’re told to wash our hands for twenty secs
and obedience – unnatural – is what the world expects.
Strangers shop for strangers and an obedient population
applauds an institution on demand, at a given time
Then we go back into our houses
close the windows, lockdown the doors
consider the unseen enemy, and, once again,
mop the floors.
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 11:12 AM UTC
Every surface
Every hour
Any symptoms?
Out of water
Out of masks
Any victims?
He's out there
A media darling
Time to panic?
Play it safe, okay
Just don't give in
To the hype
Even if he is
"Hosting"
Saturday Night Live
This week
Mar 8, 2020
Mar 8, 2020 at 11:07 AM UTC
You are 5
You have your whole life ahead of you
Hospital
Please don't go
I would be gone if you weren’t here
I didn't want you to find me after
I can't imagine my life without you
Flu
A horrible word
An unacceptable word
Sent from hell
Torture
Crying my lungs out
Coughing
Face red
Mascara running
Am I mad?
I yell
I LOVE YOU
GET BETTER
I'M SORRY
And say “no” until it isn’t a word
Rocking on my bathroom floor
DO NOT LEAVE ME
He has to be ok
He is my world
My everything
I can't stop the racing
Screaming my stomach into my head
Crying until I only have blood to cry
HE CAN'T LEAVE ME
Please reconsider
Mar 3, 2020
Mar 3, 2020 at 4:12 PM UTC
Me and apple cidar vinegar well, let's just say it's a long story when a bout of the flu for literally a fortnight, and Shakespeare's lines came to the 'fore...
(sonnet #MMMMMMMDCCXIII)
Where Shakespeare would drink, sans complaint, t'avail
Lo, "...potions of [yes!] eysel 'gainst--" what thence?
"...My strong infection--" nor think that defense
Too much, I'm churning still from in betrayl
Erm, taking just that--not cuz I regale
The world with naughty plays as he did, whence
His closest friends chid Will, whereat he'd sense
That slight of character and yield--my bail?
Tis as he said, but oh! in truth, not fer
Some metaphor played out t'effect to do
His penance good--"do ye with fortune [to
Be sure it's tongue in cheek] chide--" cuz in poor
'Scuse paying the bills meant theatre as twere.
Yet my case is this fortnight flu I rue.
15Feb19c
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 9:26 PM UTC
as soon you as you walked through the door
i could see you were not feeling well
you rushed into my arms
buried your head in my chest
and started to cry
i wrapped my arms around you
hugged you tight
pressed you near
your cries turned to sobs
i kissed your temple, your hair
“what’s wrong,” i asked
“i not feeling well, i’m coming down with the flu,” you replied
“i’ll take care of you Minou,” i whispered softly in your ear
i took your hand
lead you to the couch
laid you down
i removed your shoes
covered you
gently stroked your hair
“i’ll make you some peppermint tea with honey,” i said
i turned on the tv
flipped to your favorite netflix show
started the tea
the water boiled
i steeped the bag
brought you the cup
laid it on the table
you were falling asleep
i snuggled up along side of you
warm and cozy under the covers
you cuddled up
a leg across my hip
your head on my chest
you hair tickled my nose
i patted it down
slightly away
i petted
caressed your hair
savoring your scent
your smell
i held you in my arms
sensing your breath
feeling your heartbeat
slowly, you drifted asleep
muscles relaxing
inhaling, exhaling deeply, gently
i held you dear
protecting, providing, nurturing, nursing you
you are my partner
my lover
my wife
but tonight you are my child
you mumbled in your sleep
wiped your nose on my shirt
drooled a tad
you were congested
your breath wheezed
you snored a bit
i loved you more
i never felt like a man
this intensely
caring, tending, loving his wife, his Minou
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 10:55 PM UTC
A drowsy corruption,
Infestation,
An army of the unknown,
Invaders
They are all evil,
Every last one of them
Dragging humans souls,
Infecting
Our army rises
We'll stand our ground
Until our walls fall down
We will survive
Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 2:11 PM UTC
A Trojan horse. As Cleopatra in a carpet
Enters hidden on a breath
Incubus; droplet alien drawn in,
sets about its work; brooding job to do.
Awaken a little stiff, sweat and grog
A scratchy throat; a swollen lymph
Shower power, rinse and coffee makes well.
No. Twas not to be this false alarm, I’d grabbed.
Working fast now, growing, flooding
like snow melt hitting parched desert.
Seeping into cracks; changing blood-scapes.
Reprographic virus; dissociative – to thrive.
A false pardon was granted this morning
Cruel deception, such as played on Nick Bottom
teased mind into belief; a surge of relief,
Just early morning rust; blow away sleep dust.
I am sick of it now, the sickness; the bug.
My alien visitors; my too close encounter
making things smell wrong – like vinegar
and my nose pop as each side turns to unblock.
As big screen drama – epic plays out in my mind.
The white cells; the soldiers wiping out alien-kind
Dualling MacDuff and MacBeth in Dunsinane cell
Waging battle within me; my man-flu living hell.
©pofacedpoetry Billy Reynard-Bowness (2018) all right’s reserved
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 8:32 AM UTC
Heto na naman,
Panahon ng tag-ulan,
Sakit sa ulo't katawan,
Damdamin at karamdaman.
Basang puno't halaman,
Basang kumot na pinunasan,
Pumapatak na naman,
Ang pag-ibig at tubig-ulan.
Heto na naman,
Sipon ko'y balik-balikan,
Luha ko'y 'di mapigilan;
Simula na ng buwan,
Na masakit ang ulo't isipan,
Masakit ang puso't lalamunan,
Pagkat ako'y iyong iniwan,
Sa gitna ng ulan.
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 12:51 PM UTC
I haven't written a poem in a long time
I forgot how it felt to find the passion I once had for the words you once said, dripping from the same hands that once caressed you.
I think the reason why I haven't spilled my heart onto the white sheet is because I forgot how to feel,
and now that the blood stained feelings i had showered onto the pure white paper, are gone,
i miss it
because when they were there
my hands were covered with letters to you.
My mind now is so overwhelmed with thoughts that miss the place they call home
but the place i use to call home isnt home to me anymore,
its your home
now that your gone,
your the only thing I seem to think about late at night,
living in my mind,
im infested with the what ifs and i miss yous I wish i could say,
but thinking of you inst enough to make me throw up the feelings back onto my lap, like seasonal flu,
a flu so strong that it makes you forget who you are and what you were, but after months of sleepless cold nights, laying on a bed of regret and covered with shame, thinking of what it was like to be whole again,
the season has passed and
your only left with the fear that you might catch it again,
the same fear i have
that once i start writing again,
i'm left to catch the feelings i had for you.
May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 3:09 PM UTC
Flu Shot
Flu shot is so very bad,
with mercury that hides
its unsafe that is for sure,
and makes you sick inside.
It is something that’s a lie.
Set up to make one ill.
If you move without its grip,
your health will prosper still.
When you let them inject you,
with stuff you would not eat.
Glance at the list google it
You will be shocked complete.
Mercury is one substance.
A toxin to mankind.
Do not fall for all the lies,
for must you be so blind.
Read it for yourself right now.
Find the truth and stop.
Then your health will improve much.
And then you can yes rock.
These toxins are in vaccines
their in eye drops also
Companies they do not care,
for health just monies glow.
If you are a pregnant one,
beware and do not take.
thimerosal filled vaccines do cause
you risk, unhappy fate.
People wake up to the truth.
Its time to take control.
Knowing all the dangers now
will help with health to grow.
Jan 18, 2018
Jan 18, 2018 at 11:09 PM UTC
And if I am guilty of one single thing.
It is this.
I love too much and show too little.
Realizing in the end that I am the undoing of what I care most.
I need to believe that past is past.
Instead it dictates too much of what my future holds.
In truth I am terrified.
I believe too much in the things that hurt.
I am sold into beliefs to find that truth is never really what it seems.
I buy into sudden beliefs.
unconsciously we hurt each other.
We digest different pieces of each other and swallow them with water.
The prescription to love ourself is still the same.
It's terrible, the way we react before the initial action.
A means to cope.
Seeking refill before the prescription has run out.
We run out of patience.
Standing in line.
The hacking and coughing of times pass.
The body aches and trembles.
An infection that continues to spread.
Still we search for ways to rid ourselves of everything but the right thing.
Staying home in fear that contagion will spread.
Have we really run out of things to say.
Our voices cut short from the swelling.
A different piece swallowed, over and over again.
Chased down drowned with water.
Fallen asleep, to wake our symptoms worse.
Seeking a pharmacist to heal already present symptoms
without first a medical prescription.
In fear insurance won't cover cost.
In your absence I haven't done much healing
Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 11:15 AM UTC