Best Eds Poems
Law, English, business, and so on—
alas, are tiresome!
All the professors here go on
with a prime axiom.
A moldy, college campus where
knowledge and books abound,
freshmen and co-eds are clueless
and confused all around.
Mid-terms and finals I so dread
as the semester wends;
the pressure's on me to study
as my freshmen year ends.
School's oppressive this semester,
I'll see my old provost
and leave 'ere I rot and fester
to try a better post.
William & Mary's M.B.A.'s
are just worthless BS
(degrees from the home of “The Tribe,”
dross that just obsolesce).
I'll trill as “The Lithium-Laced Lyrist”—
as rhymes are my forté,
not tomes or stuffy scholastics:
for poesy's my métier!
Lifeless were the eyes of infamous Ted Bundy
No remorse, all emotion had been doused
His gaze pierced my soul as I gave testimony
He maintained there’d been too much publicity
Four coeds attacked in a sorority house
Lifeless were the eyes of infamous Ted Bundy
This demon had the nerve to make a bogus plea
“Move my trial or there’ll be no justice,” he groused
His gaze pierced my soul as I gave testimony
To explain news coverage in Tallahassee
Reporters took the stand, court quiet as a mouse
Lifeless were the eyes of infamous Ted Bundy
I took the stand shaking, did not want him to see me
I was sweating so much, wet stains were on my blouse
His gaze pierced my soul as I gave testimony
It appeared his conscience was totally guilt-free
What kind of excuse could this death machine espouse
Lifeless were the eyes of infamous Ted Bundy
His gaze pierced my soul as I gave testimony
*Entry for Catie’s “Villanelle Me” Contest
Note: Serial Killer Ted Bundy successfully convinced the court he could not get a fair
trial in Tallahassee because there had been too much pre-trial publicity surrounding
his attacks on four Florida State University co-eds in their sorority house. After
Tallahassee reporters were required to testify, Bundy’s trial was moved to South
Florida. Bundy assaulted and murdered at least 30 young women, and possibly
many more, in the states of Washington, Oregon, California, Utah, Idaho, Colorado,
and Florida between 1974 and 1978. After more than a decade of denials he
confessed to 30 homicides, but the true total remains unknown.
'If only they could see real me'
Wide awake at 2 am
What you doing on Facebook then?
Try to distract from aches and pains
Adrenaline rush through floppy veins
Morning light comes all too soon
Wish could sleep till after noon
Wrecked from pain and fight to work
Staying put insurance perk
Some days fatigue is too much strife
No energy left to win at life
Too much effort to get me fed
When all I want's to stay in bed
Back feels broken, worn out disks
Just standing, walking has its risks
Light headed, dizzy, need a seat
Blood pressure drops to swollen feet
Commuters shuffle, busy train
As fight own struggles of hectic brain
If only they could see real me
Inside out the pain they'd see
All while my fake smile generated
The real me hides not penetrated 'If only they could see real me'
Victoria Payne September 2016
#chronicfatigue #chronicpain #spoonie #fatigue #sick #tired #EDS #ehlersdanlossyndrome #ehlersdanlos #POTS #Chiari #poet #poem #poetry #painpoem #hiddenpain #fakesmile #yawn #sleep #autonomicdysfunction #dysautonomia #rhymes #instapain
It hard to know
Why i was expelled
From the fundamentals of poetry.
Each day
Like a loyal monk
i played my flute
With the basket
Over my head.
As the lemmings
Passed
In quadrangles of coe-eds.
For everything i must remember
Something must be forgotten.
Often the days
Of learning
Have attempted to remove
Both the marrow and my intuition
From my bones.
Learning is to suppress
Creativity within
Like a poor mouse
Dreams of cheese.
In the first graduation
A woman matriculated
From Adam’s rib.
Into my textbook
i stuffed the snowflakes
i have cut kaftless
With my artless intellect.
Learning
Is ego
And i am
Priest of nothingness.
Some times
The best koans
Make ice-cream cones.
'Being me' #EDS #chronicillness #Chiari #pain #fatigue
No rest in day, cant sleep at night
I've even lost my appetite
No fix for me, no cure in sight
No help towards my daily fight
The pain runs deep, too tired to weep
Fall back to bed in restless heap
"Stop being down, don't show your frown"
"Get outside, don't slip that crown"
"Keep on smiling, just fight through"
I hope you'll never have a clue
"It can't be that bad, it's just the stress"
That drives me mad I must confess
Don't tell me what I know's a lie
Torn body is my alibi
Just coz you never heard of this
Don't think it's fine to be remiss
Genetic joints and bendy brain
I'd prefer it if you did refrain
From making out its in my head
You think I love a life in bed?
I pretend 'I'm fine' most every day
It's better for all of you that way
But on days like these I must confess
The act does slip, I look a mess
Some days I rest and be myself
Like scattered dust on ageing shelf
Sorry it doesn't suit your mood
Or makes me sound in constant brood
I know that if you felt this way
"So sorry love" I'd hear you say
"I had no idea, not one clue"
"At how you cope with being you".
A named Mercury plies the air
above his fountain
in the Phipps Conservatory.
Children wet their fingers
in the receiving pool
and stare
up at possibilities
that may enable them
someday
to match the blossoming
in the Amazonian Room.
Co-eds with athletic boys,
muscular Pitts and tall Duquesnes,
meander through
the scented aisles,
enlisting spirits of the place
to augment flirtatious smiles.
Wedding guests accompany
a bride and groom
who set their basic blue
amidst the foil
of dappled bloom
and celebrate their day
with words they’ve learned to say.
Then from a group home crowd
a single swain steps forth
and casts his gaze on all around
and asks the god,
“O where is my Marilyn;
who took my Marilyn away?”
I cannot answer him
and the god above,
as silent as a stone,
appears to have no power--
no balloons or wedding bells
or maps to Love’s sweet bower.
When the saddened lover asks again,
"O Marilyn; who took my Marilyn away?"
she appears,
not taken, only loaned,
to trees and flowers
and charmingly atones
for all her wandering.
Standing before the door,
she smiles broadly at her lover.
I see him see her.
Our hearts soar.
Keep going
Moves as lively as a sloth
Brain fog of a scatty moth
Stretch as long as crooked cat
Feel trodden on like front door mat
Race as fast as slowest snail
Pain chews through shortest nail
Wrists as heavy as densest lead
Migraine sears through full up head
Fragile legs and shaky arms
Crawl upstairs on knees and palms
But on I plough, smile keep going
Pain inside never showing
Victoria Payne March 2015
(Mid flare up #EDS)
https://m.facebook.com/groups/Poemsbyvictoriapayne/
‘Migraine at my senses’
#migraine #chronicmigraines #Chiari #EDS #POTS #chronicpain #poem #poetry #poet #poetsofinstagram #poems #ehlersdanlossyndrome
Sense early stages
Background changes
Soon it bangs
Like sharks at cages
Neck so strained
Fight heavy brained
Lights too bright
Fog explained
Smells so sickly
Escalates quickly
Temples vice
Jaws like ice
Blindness takes
My own advice
Shut me down
I'd rather de-fence
Furrowed brow
Pain my one sense
Soon becomes insufferable
Far too long intolerable
Silent cries as pain so raw
Pillow hard like cellar floor
Feeling buried underground
Imagination peakes I found
Then weak, can't move feel paralysed
Weak muscle beaten pulverised
‘Migraine at my senses’ ~ by Victoria Payne
August 2016
Just because I need to sit down
Don't look at me with frustrated frown
You never know what hides inside
The daily pain I try and hide
Just because I look ok
Don't assume the pain's at bay
Just because I don't carry a stick
Does not mean I am not sick
Just because I get out of bed
Does not mean I don't feel dead
Just because I smile and talk
Doesn't mean it's an easy walk
Just because I go to work
Does not mean I sit and shirk
I work my **** off just to show
I'm as good as any pro
Just because it hurts to clean
Does not stop me feeling mean
Just because I aim to please
Does not mean the pain will ease
Just because I speak my pain
Does not mean I'm sad as rain
I just need you to understand
It's not that easy to lend a hand
Just because I am disabled
Does not mean I should be labelled
I am me, one and only
Although somedays it's feels so lonely
Victoria Payne - January 2015
#EDS
https://m.facebook.com/groups/Poemsbyvictoriapayne/
I wish....
I wish you could see the pain inside of my happy smiling face
Like no pain that should be felt these days
In modern human race
I wish my pain could paint a picture,
Colours shouting red and black
I wish that you could feel the heat
As fireworks spark my aching back
In neck the burn is squeezing
Cheekbones and temples glow
The burn turns in to freezing
Teeth and jaw as cold as snow
To rest my head on softest pillow
Akin to lying on brick
The pulse so angry in my head is making me feel sick
If I dare to try and move, just rise to sit or stand
The pressure it takes over
So lie back down before I land
My neck so tired so weak now
And blurry eye sight goes
I wish you could just see inside me
Crown of head to aching toes.
#chiari #EDS Victoria Payne August 2015
Colorful ribbons adorn her hair,
Reds and golds fluttering in the air.
You feel drawn towards her gypsy tent,
Summoned to a mystical event.
Time is enslaved in her crystal ball;
And calling on the spirit of Baal,
Lightning flashes in her stormy eyes.
Bamboozling you, she sells sordid lies,
As anticipation stokes your fears.
Leery, your confidence disappears,
Listening as she foretells of tears.
As it's the start of EDS Awareness month, this poem seemed appropriate to share
Ehlers-Danlos awareness - but what does it all mean?
A doctors diagnosis too often unseen
So many trips to the doc as the body grows older
A new pain in the back or when dislocate shoulder
Another misdiagnosis from health care pro's
Another new symptom to add to our woes
For doctors are taught when learning their courses
When they hear a hoof sound to diagnose horses
But zebras you see they do really exist
Yet rarely discovered despite such a long list
So more common ailments docs often detect
But as parents and teachers we must learn to protect
Those feeling their weakest with no help or support
As we all know our healthcare is already fraught
Doctors and teachers please look out for the signs
When kid tired and bendy read 'tween the lines
If you go to the dentist and injections don't numb
Or lean very lightly yet dislocate thumb
If knees bend backwards, thumbs and fingers too
Or if you eat with good health but frequent the loo
Palpitations dislocations
Brain fog and fatigue
Lead to miss - communications
In a whole other league
It may be that there is more to your pain than what should be 'normal'
Please do research and make it formal
------
http://www.ehlers-danlos.org https://ehlers-danlos.com
'EDS awareness' by Victoria Payne
https://www.facebook.com/groups/Poemsbyvictoriapayne/
Crumpling Paper
By J.R.Wren
Caw, Caw, the voice is rusty and the fry will always be true
The crows don’t know a suit, a camera, nor a comma splice
War Machine MSNBC has messy hair and forgot to tie their shoe
Tariff money, the farmer’s due, and the Tycoon’s not calling it “nice.”
“Don’t tell them that story yet; they won’t understand it.
What’s the format today? Are we mixing in op eds with obituaries and news?
We call it a ‘narrative’ today, and we look for the Monk to help us to land it.”
Talking heads continue to spin, and War Machine still needs to tie that shoe.
“Sit on the truth, till the snitching fox and voice-fried crow calls our hand”
Crumpling paper says they do the same job -- same, same, like a clone’s clone
“We don’t get leaks from the Deep, it’s all honest reporting we demand.
Now report it before we get had!” And CNN is early at the driveway of Roger Stone
Caw, caw, the voice is rusty and the fry will give a clue
Salt of the Earth have spoken, and they leave the tabloids on the table
Crumpling paper, and War Machine too, MSNBC, tie your shoe!
The deep hates, just hates, that a new mind is the thing to make us stable
And Foghorn will be red-faced again if they continue to ignore the Who
Crumpled paper, stop telling us WHAT, and start thinking about us and the WHO!
en
ter ke
y
extra
va
ganz
a
someone som
ewhere dec
ided that th
ey & they alone k
now the co
rrect way that a poem is
formed & thu
s what it is to write poetr
y to dwell in a po
etic ma
n
ner withi
n th
e realm
of
lit
era
tu
re.
thi
s nar
row-min
ded fasc
ist who wants to be
the one who draws the param
eters arou
nd wi
thin we free huma
n beings are supposed to functio
n within ne
eds to break that see on that little bub
ble that they li
ve in be
cause out he
re the rest of us defi
ne freedom
a dif
ferent way.
we will
do what
we want
when we
want in
the manner
that we
want &
if you
want to
stop us
you will
have to
kill us.
go
od
day.
'It must be EDS'
When your hip pain takes a dive
And you wake just half alive
When your neck slips out of place
And the pain spills on your face
It must be EDS
Thats put you to the test
When your back screams just from standing
And your head explodes on landing
When Chiari pains your brain
Swells with thunderstorms and rain
It must be EDS
It's harsh I must confess
When your knees and ankles turn
Slightest exercise does burn
When you stand up far too quick
Feeling dizzy makes you sick
When you can't get out of bed
Or barely lift your head
It must be EDS
Annoying little pest
When your gut just won't digest
Yet follow diet you detest
When your jaw falls out of place
And every day you force your face
To smile and say 'i'm fine'
Yet your body draws the line
It must be EDS
That's made you feel so 'less'
When your headache's every day
And it's time they docked your pay
When you've done all that you can
But your career is down the pan
It must be EDS
That's got you in this mess
'It must be EDS' by Victoria Payne
June 2016
https://www.facebook.com/groups/Poemsbyvictoriapayne/