Tag Archives: Illness

“The Sick Rose” by William Blake [w/ Audio]

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O Rose thou art sick.
 The invisible worm
 That flies in the night
 In the howling storm,

Has found out thy bed
 Of crimson joy:
 And his dark secret love
 Does thy life destroy.

The Cough [Free Verse]

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Remember the days
     when you dreaded
     a scratch at the back
     of your throat --

harbinger of a cough
     that you thought
     would get you rushed off
     to quarantine.

Or, at least, get a footlong swab
    shoved through your nasal cavity.

Best case, it would put all eyes upon you, 
     as the public wondered whether 
     you were their Typhoid Mary --
     (Except Mary was asymptomatic,
       and - clearly - you were not.)

We all learned that the one cough
      that one can never suppress
      is the one that you desperately
      wish to. 

That cough won't be silenced.

POEM: No Offense, Mr. Mosquito

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Source: Wikipedia (Public Domain)

Hey there, Mr. Mosquito,
‘fraid to say, you’ve gotta go.
Sure, Black Death is on the flea,
but you’ve bought us fevers: Yellow, Nile, and Dengue.

And that’s just to name a few.
You’ve killed more folks than anything in the zoo.
There’s Malaria, Zika, and Encephalitis
that make you feel you’ve crossed a bus crash with arthritis.

I’ve never been to Rift Valley or the West Nile;
yet I fear their fevers but not their crocodiles.
Because, like Amazon, you deliver
a thousand miles from the river.

So, I guess I’ll go and get my shots,
and if our paths cross — expect some swats.
Cause when it comes to blood-sucking creatures,
I’d rather have leaches in my breeches.