Posts Tagged ‘medicine’

Bacteria abound,
Pestilence in microscopic fashion,
So grab that bottle,
That shield of pharmaceutical design,
And lather your hands,
Prepare those viscous defences,
Build up the barricade,
Bacteria abound,
They are fiends to be sure,
And you don’t want to let the wrong ones in,
So it puts the lotion on its skin,
Or else it gets the virus again.

Poison is everywhere,
Accepted as a necessity,
Chemicals of every dire strain,
Vile greens and eerie crimsons,
Foreboding browns and unassuming clear liquids,
Synthesized by white coats and labs,
Injected into all our feed,
They do not have baleful names,
But do you know their makeup?
I do wonder,
Is every atom reputable?
Chemistry is a risky game to play,
With far too many snake eye variables,

To you who claim your body as you own,
I ask you earnestly,
Do you truly know what you take in,
Which dire chemicals you ply?

Living is all chemicals,
Being is all medication,
Blood and acid and sugar,
Saltpeter and alcohol and enzyme,
The flesh is merely stone without it,
We require it,
So voracious have we become,
There’s a chemical for every ill,

Have a bit of pain?
Pop a pill,
Black clouds overbearing?
Best get on that firewater,
Your brain is rebelling?
Antipsychotics have got you honey,
Stress overstimulates that tired heart?
I’ve got a light here,

Medicate that little problem,
And all of those too,
It’ll fix any issue you have,
Imagined or otherwise,
For better or for worse,
It can even offer a way out,
Tired of it all?
Here’s some Flavourade.

At times my mind seems to glitch,
I stare unheeding into the horizon,
I find myself in a vacuum,
The very air becomes clammy,
As if coated in cellophane,
Displaying the world like wax figures,

Nearby voices sound like distant echoes,
Muffled by my inattention,
I’m an alien,
Though I feel more like a UFO,
Feeling as if I’m not here,
No longer tied to mundus,

It was a gross realisation,
Of my own derealization,
Of my minds plea to be free,
To be mad,
To be something else.

The caustic familiarity,
My brain is chained to it,
The gorgeous image of it,
And the memory of euphoria it imbibed,
But it wanted me dead,

A parasite,
I hear its siren song,
Whispering in the sunlight,
But clamouring loud in the night,
A gauntlet to run every moment,

It won’t let me sleep,
Sweet nothings in dark voices,
It speaks in palpitations,
Paragraphs in shivers,
Finishing lines with drops of sweat,

It never ebbs,
But to succumb would be ruination,
The grail contains only poison,
I dare not speak its name,
You already know.

I remember reaching out,
During this winter of winters,
Fingers clawing out to earthly rime,
Hands straining to feel some sliver of nature,

I remember the boreal pain,
An intense bolt of arctic lightning,
Biting and vengeful,
A scourge birthed in cold,

Now my hands lay in black stain,
No longer able to caress anything,
This rot has been inflicted upon my fingers,
For the sin of touching the world,

Now no sensation comes to me.

A novel new blight has arisen,
It is upon the tongues of all,
With the same frequency as hellos and farewells,
The covid virus,
The new political and media months flavour,
An ailment embellished,
Despite its lethal effects,

The initial symptom being a destruction of all sense,
Eagerly followed by the choking of the weak,
Indeed let it be known it is a foul affliction,
Lives shattered and irrevocably altered,
Not purely by this virus itself,
But by legislative hammers of feeble men,
Flaccid controls in the guise of genius,

It has taken over,
But what of the others?
Those recieved of other illnesses,
Cancers and strokes and fractures and derangement,
They are skipped over,
Verily banished from the facilities meant to aid them,
Sent to form morgues within their hovels,

Souls perish every hour to these curses,
But the darling of the elite takes the stage,
The pundits preach fear overblown,
Fear the covid,
There is only covid,
But I ask of you,
Does covid matter more than all other ills?

Somethings in my head,
A beastly array of pains and throes,
I can feel it clawing at the walls,
And all the pain that entails,
I know not what is in there,

A bloody drum kit played by an ogre,
Or a cat with too many legs,
A stack of plates like the tower of pisa,
Or a feverish jazz band,
A penance forced on to my brain,

It hurts,
Pangs like bolts through the veins,
I grow weary of it,
The only question upon my lips,
When will it dissipate and give me rest?

A car savaged me,
Its radiator like sharks teeth,
It took my leg unapologetically,
Churned it right up,
Red mist and bone fragments,
Gnashing going gone,

Late at night,
When the memory of that car returns,
Like a hunter in the periphery,
Laying in my abode,
The pangs return,
With no method to sate them,

My leg is now a ghost,
A screaming phantom,
Naught but a flaccid stump,
With but a memory of flesh,
It shrieks into the night,
With syllables of itching agony,

My limb is a disaster zone,
Laid to waste by a steel tornado,
A constant reminder of that beast,
A grave site,
With an epitaph,
Etched in constant painful emptiness.

I have a tumour,
I feel it pulsing within my skull,
A neoplasmic fiend,
A frankenstein creation of my own heart,
My cells joining its unholy legion,

I know from whence it came,
I breathed in those cancerous cells,
They breached my lips,
On a vessel of her red lipstick,
Her nightly ritual,

She drew me in,
Like a spider playing a violin,
A trap of an embrace,
A witch in white gown lingerie,
Obsessive oncology,

This amorous disease ravaged my form,
Playing jukebox romance ad infinitum,
My humours sent into spasms,
My virtues turned askew,
Blurred eyes,

I ought to be alone,
Give me a bottle of amber,
My own radiation therapy,
I’m unclear of the prognosis,
But this love is cancer.