"polio" poems
An Epithaliamium
So Man, grown vigorous now,
Holds himself ripe to breed,
Daily devises how
To ********* his seed
And boldly fertilize
The black womb of the unconsenting skies.
Some now alive expect
(I am told) to see the large,
Steel member grow *****
Turgid with the fierce charge
Of our whole planet's skill,
Courage, wealth, knowledge, concentrated will,
Straining with lust to stamp
Our likeness on the abyss-
Bombs, gallows, Belsen camp,
Pox, polio, Thais' kiss
Or Judas, Moloch's fires
And Torquemada's (sons resemble sires).
Shall we, when the grim shape
Roars upward, dance and sing?
Yes: if we honour ****
If we take pride to Ring
So bountifully on space
The ***** of our long woes, our large disgrace.
8.8k
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
There once was a man from kentucky
who dreampt he was quite lucky
then he got hit by a truck and contracted polio
Sep 22, 2010
Sep 22, 2010 at 9:33 PM UTC
POLIO ERADICATION
The polio virus doesn't see any region
It doesn't know any religion
The virus attacks that innocent
Whose parents have just been ignorant
And missed those two drops of life
Do boond zindagi ki
No religion wants any child to be deprived of childhood joys
Who wants his child to have CRUTCHES
Yes crutches for toys?
Like ·
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 12:10 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
POLIO ERADICATION
The polio virus doesn't see any region
It doesn't know any religion
The virus attacks that innocent
Whose parents have just been ignorant
And missed those two drops of life
Do boond zindagi ki
No religion wants any child to be deprived of childhood joys
Who wants his child to have CRUTCHES
Yes crutches for toys?
Like ·
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 12:12 PM UTC
no bison on the menu
at the Buffalo; this diner
never served it
Big Mike, long gone
named it for the high shelf
on the prairie behind it
where Lakota learned
to stampede beasts over the edge, massacring
hordes without bow or sweat
the gully below,
their forgotten bone yard,
left little trace of them
save half a skull
Mike exhumed and hung on the wall
in the time of polio
before the wide whizzing interstates
when truckers still landed on his dusty lot
their rolling behemoths content in pasture
in a new millennium, the cafe highway is but
an accidental detour; the shack guarded by thistles,
long departed the Detroit steel
the truckers now in the ground, their bones
free from pillage, but the Cyclops on the wall remains,
eyeing the vacant prairie they all once roamed
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 8:05 PM UTC
When I was young,
I thought that one day
I'd learn to shave my face
and wear a polio brace.
This might seem absurd to you,
but I just thought it's what you do
when you become a man.
My father wore one of his own,
His left leg, withered to the bone,
and Dad was the first man I knew,
so I thought that was just what men do.
He walked with a limp,
but his head held high.
He looked life, no shame,
right in the eye.
He didn't let a moment pass him by,
because that's what men do.
He went to college, and got a degree,
and earned his keep most honestly.
He never asked for charity,
though he said "there's no shame
if you have to."
He was always humble, but not insecure,
of mind and body he was always sure-
for he kept them healthy, kept them pure,
because that's what men do.
He was always smiling, and quick as a whip,
his dinner parties were always a trip-
watching him and his guests exchange quips;
he was the funniest guy they knew.
And if a loved one was down and out,
he was the first one there, without doubt.
He said you should never let one do without,
because that's what men do.
He had a strong mind, and the heart of a bear,
He faced even tragedy with savoir faire
But his strong calm demeanor didn't hide his care,
The world knew his heart was true.
He stayed faithfully by my mother's side,
as the cancer took her and she slowly died,
I understood, when he finally cried,
that that is what men do.
I grew up and learned how to shave my face,
but not before Dad went to a "better place".
Still, til his last breath, he faced life with grace,
with a smile on his face, and a polio brace,
because that's what men do.
May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 4:39 PM UTC
Cherubs! Cherubs reaching from aluminum clouds
to stab the hearts out of lover's--kings and queens of too much is enough--minds.
Bold martyrs dying as abolitionists
to an illiterate pop-fractal-culture
weeping about zealous posters of apathetic narratives.
The infinite wilderness of glaciers calling the fading background
of planet Earth--steamboat particles in reverse
suckling till the chimes of apocalypse come.
we are slaves beyond truth and defiance
Sneakers hit confident roads with black widow nests in gutters
--the sun is a word,
she says it is a culture.
--The dark is a force,
she says it is a child.
*realistic tendencies are as hollow
as romantic ones*
She laughs and I laugh
pity is polio
too sick to bend and
too accustomed to power
Feb 12, 2013
Feb 12, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
4:10 AM, Thanksgiving Day
he lost his breath for good while I watched
In his thirties
lungs weak from polio and huffing Marlboros
Saturday I held one corner of his glossy box
his pricey glossy box
that was to be covered
with free soil
Some spring eve a quarter century later
the old writer
who told his tales well into his eighties
slipped into hospice sleep
and at his widow’s request
I got to hold up another corner
and place another flower
on another fancy shining tomb
Another thousand times
since then
I carried the ironic weight of lives
not all the way to their holy holes
but inch by inch towards the unknown
my shoulder sinking a bit more each time
while I searched for some epiphany in rhyme
we all bear the pall
of everyone’s fall
each has one shoulder sorely bent
regardless of who chose to repent
so as we walk with this worldly weight
someone else helps shape our fate
for try as we may to walk alone
our time is never solely our own
We are the pallbearers, pallbearers
for all
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 7:25 PM UTC
We are stardust, we are golden and we've got to get ourselves back to the garden.
Joni Mitchell
November 7, 1943: Happy 70th birthday, Joni Mitchell! The Canadian singer songwriter had polio as a child—the illness weakened her left hand, which made many traditional guitar fingerings difficult to execute. It led Mitchell to develop her own signature tunings.
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 12:38 PM UTC
Our footsteps echo through ancient halls,
where here is everywhere
and every time is now.
Caesar’s twin-edged conquests are our own
as is Brutus’s fickle knife
and Marc Anthony’s cunning speech.
Plague steals across our Europe
like a remorseless highwayman -
rosies all ringed and falling down.
We wait in Wien's Kärntnertor theater
for Schiller’s An die Freude
to shine anew in Beethoven’s score
and are ushered in at Menlo Park
where Edison's tungsten faintly glows.
Tomorrow will bring sun to the night.
There's Jonas Salk at his microscope.
One more test will crack the code
to banish polio's scourge.
But nature’s caprice strews logs on our roads.
We are dashed by a Tsunami’s rage.
Katrina’s torrents have swallowed our homes.
Prides of warriors wade rivers of blood
and Darfur bullets tear into our chests.
Nuclear Toys ‘R Us shelves are fully stocked.
We are the heirs of each triumph and treachery.
We grasp the keys to tomorrow.
What have we done? What must we do?
Aug 3, 2013
Aug 3, 2013 at 5:35 AM UTC
The outside was clean
No one thought any bad
He was nice and not mean
He had a way with words everyone wished that they had
But one morning he awoke with a chill
And opened his mouth to find something black
Confused and startled, he climbed the cemetery hill
But his whole body was out of wack
He moved in a frightening way
All his limbs going limp
And when he asked someone to stay
They said "No, you're a gimp!"
They all avoided him
And this made it worse
Henry, Lucy and even Tim
He was convinced he was cursed
With his insides darkening
And his entire being crumbling in
He found himself harkening
For anyone who would listen
But no one did
No one came to his aid
He was only a kid
But to play with him, all the parents forbade
They feared him contagious
Like polio or the black plague
They thought him outrageous
Because he preferred to dwell in the shade
It was only his way
And he didn't know why
He'd moved on and they stayed
And at his brain, they pryed
They tried to figure him out
They failed and gave up
They said they would talk but instead it was a shout
He didn't know what was up
No one knew what the matter was
So soon he was forgotten
He felt like furry peach fuzz
On the outside of a fruit that was rotten
Feb 1, 2012
Feb 1, 2012 at 3:18 PM UTC
The good ole days were enjoyed with ease,
There was less to enjoy because of disease;
There were fewer people to dress and feed
Thanks to childhood mortality.
The middle-class were few and greedy,
Thanks to needs and poverty;
We could find work and be employed,
But tenure turned to workplace injury.
Illiteracy was common,
Innumeracy, our fate,
Due to the high school drop out rate.
Polio and smallpox kept in check
The burgeoning growth of the unelect.
Minorities knew their social place;
Jim Crow was voting in black face.
Heteros ruled the ****** race,
Alphabet people were an outlier trace.
In summer and winter we were outplayed and beat,
With no Air Conditioning nor Central Heat.
Let's leave the past in the past,
Where history belongs;
Where hunger and sickness
Lasted all life-long,
And the poor and ignorant
Were subdued by the strong.
We can agree times were simpler then,
As time came rushing to an end.
Jan 2, 2024
Jan 2, 2024 at 10:57 AM UTC
people who use their religion to work 'miracles'
on the bodies
and end up dying
do not understand the reason why we have science.
science is for the body, the world, building and medicating
religion should not be applied to any of those things
religion is the medication of the mind and heart
it is the cure for the soul,
the formula for mental stability
the chemical balance of self-control
it is not a treatment for cancer, polio, or ***
it is a treatment for sadness, hatred, and confusion
both religion and science are:
correct when used correctly
lethal when used inappropriately
violent when misconstrued.
science can damage the soul like nothing else
and religion can destroy the body
they are both useful and good in their own right,
but terribly, terribly dangerous
and should be treated as such.
May 22, 2014
May 22, 2014 at 1:42 PM UTC
Who I Ever Heard Of
when I was seven ;
the same year I learned Archimedes said Eureka
for a reason,
and I was vaccinated against Polio.
My hearing of Whose has been different, sense.
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 11:59 PM UTC
(1/5/12)
If you could stir up peoples thoughts and feelings
Without making a sound.
Why not?
If you could get them to stop all the evil that’s around.
Why not?
If you can get them to look into their hearts and souls
And see that god gave them something made of gold.
Why not?
If you could help to take away the suffering and the pain
And people would all be the same.
Why not?
If you could feed all the children in the world
Every little boy and girl.
Why not?
If you could make people feel like they’ve
Accomplished a goal in their life.
Why not?
If you could help to take away the
children s cancers or m. s. and polio.
Why not?
You have to start someplace !
Why not? With yourself !
Jan 5, 2012
Jan 5, 2012 at 8:19 PM UTC
None but he who calls me, me,
thinks of me
as doer of
the deeds we see were done, or
must have been done,
ere I was error there of, as
beauties, if such do yet make
plans for chances I can take
as hope, sent deep to meet me,
as has been done, hoped over
plans, in me, object I point
at you. See, we are they who do
say you see the banner wave,
o'er the legendary home, aye,
of free and brave, learn-
ed and led by the learned away,
to find the me who started
thinking things we say are prayer,
this, nada mas, this we have
as we think, we have, this we,
I, me and you. Please be real. Amen.
The out of body designation,
after life, after ever once begun,
rounds the bend in time to find you.
That is mine, you said to he-
he who calls me, me, he may be
too dense to pass through, solid state.
Activated Intelligence,
see the odds, gads, scads of
notta chances remain to test,
may good enough to try, get by,
as among the best, for umph,
at the last wish in any set of three
kinds of minds full of found
ways this could occur or happen
to seem felt right, enough for now.
- the binge, a novel passtime,
- focus, intent, on hero stories fit
- slicker than snot to viral ideas…
We sneeze, sometimes in threes,
all the breathers who think in me terms,
studies show we mostly sneeze in threes;
------------------------
we get vaccines in threes, and we live on
Between April 26 and July 10, 1954,
volunteers distributed Salk's series of three polio shots….
From <https://www.google.com/search?q=first+polio+vaccine+roll+out&oq=first+polio+vaccine+roll+out&aqs=chrome..69i57j33i22i29i30.9668j1j15&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8>
Dec 20, 2021
Dec 20, 2021 at 1:35 PM UTC
It's hard to watch a brother die
But his impact cannot be denied...
His Polio damage at four was hard
At year eighty-seven he died.
Between those sad years he stood pretty tall.
But not once did he have it made...
Trudging his way through hunger and challenge
Leaving smiles in the hardest decade.
Not ever to ask for a quarter
No charity taken, his role.
Nothing handed to him on a platter
His crutches a quite heavy toll.
Depression years were his to defeat--
The young man filled family plates
By pencils he sold when jobs were not there
Those cold evenings he sold them till late
Later he met his most wonderful wife
Where his biggest dream was fulfilled.
Handicaps never slowed down his life
He had a warm spirit still
Frail but inspired, he always aspired....
His story, a story of will.
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 7:44 PM UTC
Surely man cometh to his senses, from iron bars and stressful fences to keep him on tight line,
Wherein brother's act against mother's, to be left behind as societie's slime!!
Gospel's lost to the calliburs blast heat shot,
Wherein projectile gets sprayed,
As graffiti to a page,
Where iron creases,
The fold and eggs boil the kitchenette's ***
All things off limit at this time thou falsely accused criminal!!
Thief between the gypsies!!
What a constitutional laugh in we all shall have,
Mother and dad,
Positively these longing souls stay wistful!!!
Polio like feelings are popular focus,
Where the green is all smokeless,
Wherein alarms do not exist!!!
One for thy lungs,
Two for two trips!!
Oatmeal cookie cakes sweetened to sweaty pie night!!
Terrors are farer ,
Gatherer's are darer's to amtrack train polite!!!!!
May 28, 2015
May 28, 2015 at 9:47 AM UTC
now i fet it the broccoli exploding heads against me
put the wavering native american eyes in your mouth
chew and swallow
i see heaven now laid out on a dusty suburban street
with heavens light poking through holes in a dark dark liquor pool sky
all the little buggies like that
hovering
and then there you are
appearing out of stone green alabaster ladders
she comes now spewing hot sauce out of her mouth
winged lepars and polio stricken words out of dry ice sculpture
depends on what youre aiming at
when
backing up in reverse so many days
seconds
minutes
hours
time spent in an old logging camp
years wasted in fruitless retrieval
its been tackled now
the fearless writhing of my reckless sack of bones
the fibers tearing apart like a ghost projecting a soul
a stringy mess of plasma
days and days and years and years up out of this shamble
this poor excuse for a signal
duck shaped glyphs flickering on a radar screen
walking down the dusty grey broken pavement
back and forth to the neon green river
in and out towards the warm light of love undulating
my lunge for the final helpless fury
and then
we let go
Oct 19, 2015
Oct 19, 2015 at 11:36 AM UTC
the last victim of polio;
she took up brush and canvas
and began a portfolio of one
her singular subject,
a sagging pear in the neighbor's yard,
threatening the cedar fence daily
and daily she would add strokes
sometimes only a vein on a blue Monday
a leaf in a weekend, and a chunk
of trunk on a winded Wednesday
over summer greens she would
double dab fall's golds, yellows, or russet
if snow had begun to drift
seasons, years made their circles
until her hands became stiff, her eyes
filled with film--then, she only sat by the palette,
silent, reverent to a lifelong friend
when she passed, the work
was nearly done, missing only half a fiery sun,
yet the sky was a glorious blue
by chance the final hue
of an image altered
a hundred score, by a hand
that would have done so
a thousand more
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 3:17 PM UTC
drums pound loudly
as the last real empire
builds up for one more great war
the final battle
to forever lock oil to the U.S. dollar
to end all hope for cultural variation
to show Russia and China why
we are the world police –
media blackout on Chinese warships
and Russian bombers
as we sit glued to a debate
with no real weight
we sit at the precipice
of history repeating
just call Obama, F.D.R.
but without the polio
to stop him becoming king –
when the first ship sinks
somewhere out in the South Pacific
will we have bombed our own
like the Tonkin Gulf
in order to gain public support
for one more crack at the draft
will it be those rascally men from the red menace
dropping our own stolen technology
on the heads of our sons
and combat ready daughters
will Russian destroyers invade the coastline
like we did in Normandy
to stop school shootings
and teach us all how to make borscht
do we actually get to utilize 50 year old
nuclear missiles
in the name of peace
and better trade rates –
the 40 years of my life
we have played in the Middle-East
hit and run, bomb and apologize
innocent civilians as collateral damage
robotic drones keeping tally…
will I get to see
in my lifetime
the horrors that are only properly expressed
on grainy History Channel video –
Oct 29, 2015
Oct 29, 2015 at 4:43 PM UTC