"mumps" poems
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
Jocks
While lovely Eileen entertained us all,
with her wonderful words of lace and satin,
it made me want to answer the call,
make guys proud, like General Patton
the guys wear jocks to cloister their tools,
the perfect size so hard to find,
need to protect those precious jewels,
from errant kicks and grabs from behind
most are just elastic and cotton,
some are furry you get from **** shops,
absorb the sweat they smell quite rotten,
pick up with 1 finger or handles of mops
the backs are weird like gives you ******
when grabbed by the band and yanked real hard,
guys in gym like to snap like frozen veggie,
then try to get you on their dance card
cause now you can sing those real high notes,
your face quite large like you have the mumps,
squeal like girlie man being attacked by goats,
don't bend over you expose those rumps
but it is important to protect your package,
keep is safe for your favorite gal,
not real good to have swollen sackage,
not even if choice is a guy named Hal
Gomer LePoet...
Apr 10, 2010
Apr 10, 2010 at 7:54 AM 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
have the mumps and itchy lumps,
my tummy's awful sore.
I have a cough, my arm's fell off,
my throat is red and raw.
I have big spots and polka dots,
flashing before my eyes.
My legs are broke, no it's no joke,
as if I would tell lies.
I've got the flu, Atchoo Atchoo,
I'll just miss school today.
Of course I'm sick, no it's no trick,
oh what a thing to say.
I've got the shakes and my head aches,
it hurts so very bad.
And what a bind, I've gone night blind,
why are you laughing Dad?
I almost forgot about tooth rot,
and frostbite of the toes.
I feel unwell, I cannot smell,
because of my blocked nose.
I'm far too ill to take a pill,
for they just makes me gag.
I feel so sick, please Daddy quick,
pass me the paper bag.
No need to phone Dr.SawBone,
he is a busy man.
I need no shots or creams for spots,
just soda and a fan.
My speech is slurred, my vision blurred,
oh mummy I should rest.
Now that's not fair, as if I'd dare,
to dodge my English test.
You're not impressed, I should get dressed,
and stop this sad charade.
My Dads no fool, he phoned the school,
and said I'd overlaid
Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 7:59 PM UTC
trunks filled with junk and the crunk juice flows
flunked out pill popping junkies with no cash go
drunkenly to the shrunken head show
knowing they stunk.
The monks dunked funky mumps victims
on bunk beds and licked them
instead of fixing lunk-headed situations
with linkin-log technologic advances
drinking dogs retrofitted with dance moves
groove on the wooden floor while ****** bore
the Moors with tales of divorce and random ***********
on all fours in doorways
during bad plays on the interstate…
demonstrators, unregulated, on roller skates
wait at the gates of the ingrates filled with hate
and throw pie plates with fated accuracy
and the belated bureaucratic picnic
nitwits in knickers knuckle bump
and plump debutants snicker
the wicker croquet mallets
perform ballet in the chalet
and I have to valet the cars –
Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 5:35 PM UTC
skyward certified ledgers keep track of all the godly, gritty details we can’t bring ourselves to believe. just throw some words together and make it count. the dust between our fingernails flavors the few crumbs we have left with the taste of a world that turned it’s back on us. honestly, the real apocalypse is just simply going through the motions. only we’re not as important as i’m making us out to be. sometimes (mostly on nights where the cold infiltrates your bones like an incurable disease and the rain is hitting the roof so hard you think that maybe this time it all will just finally come crashing down) it feels like we were designed for eachother. excuse the sentiment, i know it’s not me. i still picture you in the under-renovation-library thumbing through indexes for facts or truths, or maybe even just a semblance of hope. but that’s just the kind of punch drunk love ******** that keeps me ticking. my smiles come and go with the knowledge that you collect expired medicine and listen to mp3s of seismic waves from beneath the earth’s surface. you’re that special kind of weird that only makes sense in the way you can’t even play a game of monopoly without falling apart. a true rivalry is the greatest form of love. i’m stuck somewhere in between holding on to a grudge. you’re at my throat, i’m in your head. i swear i’m trying to regulate my sleeping patterns again. but the autocorrect on tumblr tried to change “mp3s” to “mumps” so where does your allegiance really stand? melatonin nod. glasses smudged. overedited and overanalyzed. linking words is the slurred speech of typing. or something like that.
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 12:55 PM UTC
I have the mumps and itchy lumps,
my tummy's awful sore.
I have a cough, my arm's fell off,
my throat is red and raw.
I have big spots and polka dots,
flashing before my eyes.
My legs are broke, no it's no joke,
as if I would tell lies.
I've got the flu, Atchoo Atchoo,
I'll just miss school today.
Of course I'm sick, no it's no trick,
oh what a thing to say.
I've got the shakes and my head aches,
it hurts so very bad.
And what a bind, I've gone night blind,
why are you laughing Dad?
I almost forgot about tooth rot,
and frostbite of the toes.
I feel unwell, I cannot smell,
because of my blocked nose.
I'm far too ill to take a pill,
for they just makes me gag.
I feel so sick, please Daddy quick,
pass me the paper bag.
No need to phone Dr.SawBone,
he is a busy man.
I need no shots or creams for spots,
just soda and a fan.
My speech is slurred, my vision blurred,
oh mummy I should rest.
Now that's not fair, as if I'd dare,
to dodge my English test.
You're not impressed, I should get dressed,
and stop this sad charade.
My Dads no fool, he phoned the school,
and said I'd overlaid.
Mar 7, 2012
Mar 7, 2012 at 6:53 PM UTC
Life, as with all Beings impregnated
Hamper these Virtues for those Teens delayed
To which we remind; In Growth compensated
Handy-Spread Vices from Feelings displayed
Perhaps from which - shun such Bloke-Haste Advice
Having spoiled these Inner Credentials since
What-Not? What-For? Skin that Crumpy Device -
Cross-dress Cat's Tannery to Barrows hence:
What this means - Sentinels - or Football-Humps
Even with Morals does enrich the Need
To hear a Lumper; Then post-date with mumps
Part-and-Parcel take Learning from a Seed.
This, after all, your Labels from Friends fear
Fortify your Codes; To Values they hear.
Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 7:51 PM UTC
My will to live has left me so,
Now I'm alone
In the ******* snow
Lost my way while walking home,
Now I'm alone
In the ******* snow
Cold creeps in, my bones, so numb
The wolves they howl, my heart it thumps
My achy bowels, my arms in mumps
Blood is moving extra slow
Now I'm alone
In the ******* snow
Dying alone
In this frozen hellish landscape
Alone
In the *******
Snow
Mar 6, 2022
Mar 6, 2022 at 4:38 AM UTC
start with a doubt and a guilt and simmer. reflect at the angle that bisects oblivion…
but never come to terms with it. drink all the suns and mutter in the patter of late nights grinding away
at the center of your lost boy.
keep yourself to your mosquitoes while you smokescreen your terrors with beautiful things
that pour out of you like all day things with glitter for mumps! you unhappy thing.
now you must stare at the wheel of an unbearable Sun. but you have no donuts
until you wake and make them suffer holes that you decorate with glaze
while glancing at the emptiness wrapped in empty calories
you’ll never dance-off.
somehow continue.
or not.
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 12:20 AM UTC
We've torn down buildings, and built new ones
Yet we have no foundation.
We are illiterate to what we truly feel and breathe unless,
It is seen else where first.
It too is a reality that we've created.
This feeling that can only be described in Braille.
We too are restricted.
These bumps that go unnoticed.
The mumps in the crevice we band aid until it's too late.
We continue to tear down these fortresses of ourselves.
What concerns most is that I see myself in you.
The same love and laugh that become the building blocks that haults the storm.
Yet we reject each other due to the mentality of our environment.
With lack of understanding,
We fail to embrace choosing the cause and effect of all differential.
We seek to destroy forgetting what's important.
We work against each other doing more damage that good.
We need each other to further emancipation.
To build one another once this storm reaches peak.
As simple as it sounds it becomes more complex.
To build a new building on top shakey ground.
Everything must be cleared out.
The participation of presence
Mar 13, 2018
Mar 13, 2018 at 10:46 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
It has never been my forte
To find words I really mean
This time I think I know
How vital you are to my routine
Please excuse my stumbles
My mishaps and bumps
Love is a contagious disease
I think my heart has the mumps
And I know you might understand
Just in case you don't
I have been working very hard
To find an antidote
May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 12:44 AM UTC
I cannot go to school today.
There simply is not any way.
I'm sweating and my throat is sore.
My breathing has become a chore.
I think my backside has a rash
And to the bathroom I must dash.
My ankle's sprained, I cannot walk.
My throat's inflamed, I cannot talk.
Some twitching makes my left leg ****
I might have cramps, my arms don't work.
I might have mumps or maybe flu.
I might be sick with something new.
My head feels like it's gonna split.
I really need to rest a bit.
I have no strength inside my knees.
I may have some unknown disease.
Call the doctor, have him hurry,
All I see is getting blurry.
Believe me please, it is no joke.
I think my elbow might be broke.
I have a very runny nose
And there is gunk between my toes.
My temperature is way too high
And there is something in my eye.
Do not make me get up for school.
The way I feel it would be cruel.
If I can't rest, I might just die
And school would be the reason why.
What's that you say? It snowed last night?
And all the schools are locked up tight?
No school today because of snow?
Out of my way, I have to go!
Where is my coat? Where is my sled?
I don't feel sick, I'm well instead.
I've had a most amazing cure
And one thing that I know for sure,
If there's not any school today
I need to go outside and play.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 4:58 AM UTC
Winds that whistle out of tune
and I'm going out to work very soon,
frightened I might blow away
scared of going out today
I could stay here and call in sick
mumps or measles, take your pick
but
no, I'll go and be a star
which will not get me very far
because
everyone's a star today
I wish that they'd all blow away
and leave me shining on my own,
changed my mind
I might stay at home.
Dec 7, 2024
Dec 7, 2024 at 1:34 AM UTC
Whispers of Youth
Dusty boxes, like forgotten books, Hold chapters of quantum leaps— My first steps, tiny and determined, Leading to a world of wonders.
Goat’s milk, flavored with Grenada nutmeg, A remedy for cow’s blandness, And lactose intolerance—the secret code Of those simpler days.
Cod liver oil, Sunday mornings’ ritual, Bitter drops to ward off unseen foes, Mumps, measles, whooping cough— Childhood’s battles etched in time.
Curiosity fueled my quest: Pebbles, night crickets, butterflies— Each a treasure, carefully collected, One line at a time.
And that snarky bird, Caged, then set free— Freedom’s squeak of happiness, A lesson etched in feathers.
The kitchen window, a gateway, Its slight squeak echoing freedom. The bird, banana thief turned guardian, A debt repaid in whispers.
Childhood memories preserved, Not just atop that distant hill, But in the flutter of wings, And the quiet moments we cherish.
🌼
Jul 8, 2024
Jul 8, 2024 at 8:21 AM UTC