"measles" poems
If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.
If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.
If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.
205.5k
Ever since day one, you were the only one
That could guide me through my problems to overcome
There was something about your presence
That made me live life without hesitance
Yeah my life is different today
But if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t look to God and pray
That I have the will to get through every day
You’ve blessed me like a sneeze, achoo
And I am never, ever going to forget you
When “I have cancer” came out of your mouth
I knew life was going to go south
But you, you didn’t let that phase you
And that is why so many give praise to you
Your will to live and win the fight
Was the only thing you had in sight
You never gave up or waved the white flag
Instead you lived your life without a drag
When I think about your motivation to never give up
It always leaves me all shook up
You had a personality to die for
And that is what made people love you more and more
You are the best mom ever
And I’ll never ever forget you
Cancer is the most evil thing
Because of the sorrow that it brings
One day, someone will find the cure
I know it in my heart for sure
They found one for smallpox, polio, measles, and mumps
So that must mean that someday cancer will look like a chump
I love you mom, don’t ever forget that
I’m never ever going to forget you
The time I spent with you after school in seventh grade
Are memories of mine that will never fade
I always made sure you were doing okay
And if you weren’t I would always try to make your day
From the talks we had to the laughs we shared
Nothing will ever be compared
You will always have a place in my heart
So therefore we will never be apart
I’ll never forget you
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 11:33 PM UTC
a babe
having a baby
thinking all is just rosy
cute lil nose
wiggly toes
soft skin
cute laugh
fashionable clothes
teeny, tiny shoes
in all colors...
little hands reaching
to capture your heart
then...
ear shattering screams
dream stomping cries
wretchedly soiled diapers
colic
chicken pox
measles
mumps
ear ache
tooth aches
bruised knees
stitched cuts
school friends
best friends
bullies
first loves
soft crying from her room
but always
always
little hands reaching
to capture your heart.
Aug 28, 2015
Aug 28, 2015 at 7:10 PM UTC
You're busier than the crocodiles,
Swatting at the bees,
avoiding mumps and measles
that carry with the fleas.
In the time I could sit,
and bade my day awhile,
but now I've stuck to moving now,
now my soul is defilled!
You were busier than a ***** cat
swatting at the mouse,
and kicked closed, of that door,
that once was our own house.
Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 7:25 PM UTC
To vaccinate or not?
What about diseases we forgot?
Like Polio, T.B. or Smallpox?
Kids can't take peanuts to school, or not,
Bu they can bring Measles and Whooping Cough.
What other diseases have we forgot?
To vaccinate or not?
Feb 22, 2016
Feb 22, 2016 at 10:33 PM UTC
I am sick.
But not in the way that you think.
I do not have measles or mumps,
nor cough or flu.
I do not have stomach pains nor food poisoning,
don't have a headache making me feel blue.
I am plagued with humanity.
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 1:28 PM UTC
I put on mascara today so you would find my corpse perfect
(all that existence is, looking beautiful for earthworms)
then realized that you could not open the tomb –
yes, the worst part of distance, the last person I see will not be you
(and the mortician will not know which dress is my favorite).
Only you, only you know about the burgundy lace
that we said makes me seem like a dwarf princess or psychic –
in it, I could call you from the past even when I am gone
you would be the king of every maggot delivering my messages.
I would eventually ask to be excavated (and if anyone says no,
please do not have mercy upon them, sweetheart –
wish that they catch the measles or chickenpox or insomnia)
so you could see the sallow skin I blanched even more just for you
the palace in my grave did not matter when you weren’t there.
May 6, 2013
May 6, 2013 at 5:14 PM UTC
Can you think back to all the times that made you laugh or cry?
These are the memories of many days gone by
The baby getting measles, the dress you couldn't have
The diapers and the sleepless nights and all that sticky salve
Oh how the years pass quickly, and then we miss them so
The days we thought would never end are in the wind to blow
The boys are almost men now, the girl a little lady
They tell you of their tales of woe, sometimes a little shady
The years are a reflection of what we've said and done
They tell you of one womans daughter, another womans son
Jan 15, 2010
Jan 15, 2010 at 6:05 PM UTC
~ for Rob Rutledge -
@ 6:15am
~~~~~
we all are living, reading and writing,
paycheck to paycheck
even if by happenstance, our bellies full,
for the white sheets we lay our words
down and upon, our supporters of
ids and egos of egg shell thin lifes
are the bare emptied shelves
of our unending, still ongoing
pandemic pandemonium,
razing times
of eroding joys
the sheets are blank, but our souls
wearied, helmed and whelmed
by the unending of the unexpected
that demands, orders and commands,
no matter what
pour it out blasting
unleashing the rage
compelled, compiled,
completely compulsing
we
selves ordered to compose
giving form and firmament
to our vaporous innards,
releasing new oxygen from
the tides inside and without,
clashing ideas, irregular notions
that demand we poets responsible
for reconciliation and auditing for
human truths
we awake barren but weighty,
the emotions are rustling in the
now daily, common,
mighty metors of gusts of higher winds,
spreading fire and measles to spite,
not despite
our fragile failings & flailings
oh goodness and grace,
let that be the colors of
our skin, our face,
essay on, sashay with a
swinging motion,
yes, rhyme and rhythm
and deliver us with words
so soft, they shatter the
gloomy desperation of
what confronts our entirety,
when the terrors of our
sleeping dreams cannot be
differentiated from the
sad eyed waking
ones
so write, and right,
these troubled times,
when trolls, dragons
and yet unnamed monsters
seek to take away our
tiny green planet, watered,
seeded and plentiful fruited
plains enough to satisfy us all
if we are so emboldened to choose
all of us over our lonely selfish selfs
Feb 25, 2025
Feb 25, 2025 at 6:31 AM UTC
come with thee,
into black,
forget thy purpose,
remember thy lack,
scour in loneliness ,
unforgiving winds,
lose thy dreams,
and sensation in thy limbs.
thou shalt not sleep as thou recall all of thy sin,
f'r its the strongest curse in all ye' land,
not the black death, n'r thy's measles,
rath'r its depression, the sickness of thy people,
f'r a man hath nay choice but to give in,
as he hang beneath the churches steeple,
he pens a letter about the illness, warning thy people,
as he explains it'll nev'r defer
you will nev'r be able to feel again,
as im damn'd to announce there is nay cure.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 9:15 PM UTC
When I was little I was afraid of needles.
The skinny shiny end, like the backs of beetles.
Mom holding my hand tight as I stood there. Feeble.
Telling me I was one of the bravest people.
She ever met.
Afterwards, I'd cry and lay there fetal.
She would tell me it was to prevent measles.
To stop me from looking like a red polka-dotted easel.
But I always told myself, they were evil.
And now, where am I?
The needle's no longer an enemy but an ally.
As I feel the cold metal devil,
and revel in this bed and unravel,
and elevate to feel my fate slipping,
I told myself I was on a higher level.
So that I could ignore the fact,
that I made a blood pact,
With the wrong pack,
of crack,
trying to find my sanity, is like a needle in a haystack,
maybe I need a life jacket,
to save me from drowning myself.
The white walls, and black shelves,
All stare at me like I'm deaf.
But I can hear.
I can hear just fine,
and find the time,
this time,
ill quit.
I swear it.
When I was little I was afraid of needles.
The skinny shiny end, like the backs of beetles.
And now, I'm staring into a mirror, and choking myself.
Trying to tell myself.
To get rid of this evil.
Jan 17, 2018
Jan 17, 2018 at 8:04 PM UTC
Donald, what is wrong with you?
You’re really acting strange.
It’s like your mind has measles
Or bubonic plague or mange.
Something sick is going on
Down deep inside your mind.
It seems to make you stupid
As well as deaf to facts and blind.
Maybe sometime decades back
You might have made some sense
But we have watched a long time now
And it hasn’t happened since.
You don’t seem to be able to
Tell the facts from the lies.
You are getting stranger daily
We can see it in your eyes.
You always were a reprobate
A fact you couldn’t really hide.
Your responses were so obvious
We saw the truth you kept inside.
You looked down on women,
Looked at them as just toys.
You carefully referred to gays
As naughty twisted boys.
You never had much use for blacks
Except for menial kinds of labor.
You certainly didn’t want any of them
To end up as your neighbor.
And now you want control of
The Presidential nuclear codes.
Do you want to sell them off
To buy stuff to put up your nose?
No, Donald, you are sick as hell
And we’ll be glad when you are gone.
The rest of us have had enough
And think you should move on.
Maybe you can get a job
Playing high stakes liar’s poker.
That might fit a guy like you:
A dangerous and unfunny joker.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 11:02 PM UTC
He is a beautiful disaster
everyone wants to be a part of his mess
tan skin
jet black hair
a grin like measles
contagious but extremely dangerous
he might as well be wearing a red stop sign
and millions of hazard lights
one touch is all it takes
to be under his spell
munipulation at its finest
i did believe at one point
we could become a gorgeous clamity
the i began to realize more and more
he may not be like the rest of us
in the sense that he knows exactly what he wants
Mar 2, 2017
Mar 2, 2017 at 2:54 PM UTC
"If freckles were lovely,
and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.
If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present,
and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.
If fear was plucky,
and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we."
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 3:37 PM UTC
Let's hear it for vaccines, my dears,
The 'anti' movement's in full sway here,
Now there's measles in Melbourne, no cheers,
Summer epidemics, the parents' fears,
Let's hear it for vaccines, my dears!
Jan 17, 2017
Jan 17, 2017 at 9:40 PM UTC
Love is like the measles.
Once you catch it,
it starts spreading like wildfire.
First, the itch,
then the ugly zits
and finally the scars.
Those nasty pockmarks
reminding you that getting bitten by the love bug
can cause serious damage to the patient.
Jan 25, 2016
Jan 25, 2016 at 5:45 PM UTC
*I remember when we met Ted
You always made things so right.
We used to always sleep together
So I was not scared at night.
We used to travel everywhere
Nobody ever knew.
You were always there for me
And I was there for you.
I used to tell you all my troubles.
You would listen all the day.
And when I got a tummy ache
You took the pain the away.
Once I had the measles
I was six days lay in my bed
You never ever left me Ted.
You slept right by my head.
When the thunderstorm scared me
And the lightning’s flashing light
You snuggled up and held me
So safe all through the night.
The passing years they rolled along
And Ted we got older too.
I was not frightened anymore.
Oh! what could I do with you?
My little sons in the next room.
There is a bear next to his head
With one eye missing,
and it has a patch or two.
It is his favorite little bear
Its you Ted it is you.*
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 1:04 PM UTC
Sometimes
I wash the dishes
Sometimes
I sing while washing the dishes
Sometimes
I cry while washing the dishes
Sometimes
I dream of faucets
Sometimes
I dream of things that cannot happen
Sometimes
I cry because all I can ever do is dream
Sometimes
I feel like I own the world
Sometimes
I feel like I'm unimportant
Sometimes
I feel nothing at all
Sometimes
I think light bulbs are amazing
Sometimes
Stray dogs make me believe in tomorrows
Sometimes
Life in all its grandeur isn't enough
Sometimes
I hate the heat of the sun
Sometimes
The deep sea calls to me
Sometimes
I am deaf to everything
Sometimes
I am overwhelmed by the cosmos
Sometimes
I think everything is one-dimensional
Sometimes
There are stars in the city sky
Sometimes
I listen to people drone on and on
Sometimes
I find myself speechless
Sometimes
I am terrified of the words that storm from my heart
Sometimes
I hate the world
Sometimes
I hate the hate
Sometimes
I hate for no reason
Sometimes
I read news about measles
Sometimes
I eat and eat and feel guilty afterwards
Sometimes
My poems just don't make sense.
Feb 15, 2015
Feb 15, 2015 at 7:42 AM UTC
My stepson was doing **** and had red dots on his face.
I told him that I don't allow drug users to live at my place.
I immediately knew he was doing **** because of the red dots.
He lied when he said that he had the measles, I knew he did not.
My ex-wife said if her son wasn't welcome in my home, neither was she.
She thought that her son's drug use wasn't a big deal and she left me.
But now she agrees that it was stupid when her son did ****
Last month, he overdosed and it caused his untimely death.
What I'm about to say isn't a lie, it is real.
Please say no to drugs because drugs ****
Jun 18, 2019
Jun 18, 2019 at 1:49 PM UTC
it is said that chris whitty looks serious always
so on checking find
this:-
uk government chief scientific adviser
sounds pretty serious that
as does covid
not much cause for tap dancing and merriment
there
it is said there are worries over the children’s vaccine for the disease is a viral virus
yet they agreed the mmr injection
for the measles virus
the mumps virus
rubella virus
while
poliomyelitis is viral and difficult to spell
then diphtheria is a bacteria and rhymes
well
serious
Nov 20, 2021
Nov 20, 2021 at 1:56 AM UTC
So went my early years
With my life so filled with fears
Brought home measles and chicken pox
Skated up and down the blocks
Walked to school in the rain
Oh how the playground was a pain
An athlete I was not
Chosen last for every spot
If you've been there
Then you know what I mean
We'll never make any team.
Moved to the country when I was ten
Certainly a new life to begin
A farm with a dog named Buster
A horse of my own
Ducks in the pond
Cows in the barn.
A new country school
With teachers who loved you
Several new friends I made
Free time at lunch
And jacks to be played.
Four years spent at this wonderful school
Then time to move on
To an unknown life
And a brand new school.
Algebra, English, Geography, Science, PE
what had happened to me?
College ahead
How can that be?
Dorm rooms and roommates
Chemistry, Speech
New challenges
Only a scholar could reach.
First job, oh no
Big city, traffic
Not for me
I think I'll move to Tennessee
Finally life sublime
Well, it was
At least part of the time
Mountains and rocks like I had never seen
Parties, new friends
At last, life could begin.
Oct 2, 2016
Oct 2, 2016 at 6:32 AM UTC
Sharkie
measles that
are hypocrisy
when a
hypocrite as
such was
Hansen's Disease
so theoretically
die in
luxury with
tapeworm that
****** larvae
from Brexit
where tis
Patrick's arm
and harmful
as armpit
in squaller
Apr 4, 2019
Apr 4, 2019 at 7:46 AM UTC
____Going back
and forth >>
The dark
pool jaw shark
Darth____(War)teared
Her drink feared
The moon split
Two people
Crook/Brook-Streams
Spilled water-soul
words
the Grecian river
Thorn Rose
birds
Will I return?
Devil dug
Deep- thought
Millionaire swamps
2B streamed
Suddenly
Forestal sweetness
FLipping homes
Hopscotch jump
Flipper Gumps
Mister brook the
measles
Water spots
How her foot met
Sunny-side
Eggbeaters
Morning 2 B Sure?
Turning-star
Cornered-shore
A sure pleaser
Cheater's foot
The river of
no return
(Monroe)
She is so perpetual
returning
in his
fantasy
everything
Misery
loves cooks
Baked tan
brooks
company
Poetical downright
mystical rivers
Joan of Ark
All bricks to blow her
home down dark
He's the Adonis
Superlative
most bodeful
The bridge over
***** war of
her laundry
In Cahoots,
Tired torrential rain
Tranquil water
Streaming air
Glorious shape
Her brook
But he is
never by
her shore
Not even once
to stare or look
Water Wands
of faires
So many
***** men
Drinking the
Holiest
water
Mrs, clean
Cult life
Stepford Wifes
Her cheeks like petals
Estee Lauder eyes of
Blue velvet
Lady Brook the banks
of the channel;
No contamination
water
Channeling
Like finest truffles
By the water riffle
So Shallow
Abdominal water
Hurricane shakey
Speaking
words
of wisdom wishing well
Streams overloved
Still, Diana Wales
running reliving
Lucky charms
they're married
Orange segments
Water the juiciest
Be calm
Nick the Knickpoints
Mister and Mrs. beds
The high tide
of turbulence
Poems are
all a stream
Our oasis
Deer Creek
came to
Love her more
than he
could ever seek
May 20, 2018
May 20, 2018 at 7:57 AM UTC
*Remember when we first met Ted.
You always made things right.
We used to always sleep together.
So I was not scared at night.
We used to travel everywhere.
I hid you so no-one ever knew.
You were always there for me Ted.
And I was there for you.
I always told you all my trouble's Ted.
You would listen all the day.
And when I got a tummy ache.
You took the pain the away.
Once I had the measles
I was six days in my bed.
You never ever left me, Ted
You slept right by my head.
When the thunderstorm scared me.
And the lightning’s flashing light.
You snuggled up and held me.
So safe all through the night.
The passing years they rolled along Ted.
And we got older too.
I was not frightened anymore
Oh! what could I do with you?
Now my little sons in his room.
There is a bear next to his head.
With one eye missing
and it has a patch or two.
It is his favorite bear named Ted.
It's You Ted, It is You.*
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 10:42 AM UTC