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As If Type 1 Wasn't Enough – A Poem by Wanda Morrow Clevenger

borderline Randle
McMurphy-ism
drew me to the online
diabetes groups

those needle gurus
were veterans,
some since childhood

they were spouting
percentages
and number slash numbers
glucose levels
MDI
BGL
ketones
bolus
lantus loading
– before or after sex? –
subtracting fiber
from carb
and pumps and
brands–glitches–cost–
warranty expectancy

there was moaning and
wailing about something
or something else
that no one had a
universal answer for
or ever would

and no one dared speak
of recipes or food per se,
food oddly verboten

when I mentioned
I was enjoying
some success
with inhaled insulin
some helpful Type 2
said using that stuff
would give me
cancer

More at http://wlc-wlcblog.blogspot.com/.

The Crush – A Poem by Wanda Morrow Clevenger

a girl in my graduating class
had a crush on
our married biology teacher
she was the overachiever
kind, the over-confident
kind, the kind
that runs for class president
and more than often wins
and this crush was
the kind that strangles
virgins in their sleep
the kind that possesses
overachieving virgins
until they commit
to mortifying acts

her need to expose
the crush was such
that she drew his face
and left the signed sketch
in her desk
for him to find,
to find and fall
hopelessly

I don’t know why
she told me, we
weren’t friends,
or why she thought
he would
rummage through
her desk, hers and
hers alone

but I have decided
that a janitor found it
during summer break
and didn’t give it
a second look

More at http://wlc-wlcblog.blogspot.com/.

Migraine – A Poem by Ananya S. Guha

Darkness is a splitting headache
wobbling around, groping
for senses in oblivion
pitch dark in winter’s month
heavily burdened wind
is on a run, migrating birds
cheeping. Heartache is on.
The migraine continues.

Lost Word – A Poem by JD DeHart

I lost a word
again today, mid-sentence
My meaning hung in still
air between reason
and just plain ignorance
My tongue searched
the roof of my mouth but
no noun could be found
the back of my molar
but no verb was hiding
My eyes flitted but no
adjectives returned my gaze
So I simply changed
the subject like veering
into another verbal lane.

Agnostic's Prayer – A Poem by Stan Morrison

We gather together to ask the lord’s blessing
stop those who are ordained from undressing
before women and children without confessing
no savior’s ever gonna butt in
angels are drinkin’ tonic and gin
Sister Theresa’s gonna elope
Father O’Connor’s word of honor
a chance to fornicate they hope
before bed check, make our break
ending celibacy’s what’s at stake
religions trump common sense
and underwrite rabid causes
name the enemy, pass judgment
mete out punishments define honor
build chasms between dogma and understanding
operate with slogans and retaliation
closing many doors and many coffins
amen.

The Worrier – A Poem by Ian Fletcher

Stress has been his constant companion
lodestar of his neurotic universe
spanning his life from beginning to end
a rope bridge across a shark-filled ocean.
How he would sweat over school exams
then worry about his college degree
while fretting over his chosen career
and if ever he’d get that first promotion.
A steady girlfriend brought him no respite
only the fear she might not be Miss Right
marriage unleashing a new set of woes
with the bills and the thirty year mortgage
and whether they could afford two kids.
But even retirement gives him no joy
being as stressed as when he was a boy
his golden years yielding fresh anxieties
about his wealth lasting and his health.

Alas it is I trapped in this fraught world
and in this moment of contemplation
I ask myself what salvation there is
for such a man as me yet must conclude
my worries on this earth will never cease
and that death may be my only release

Poetry of Life – A Poem by Ananya S. Guha

Autumnal green
sun auburn
bites dust of feet
and suddenly
it’s work
work and morning
enmeshed in claptrap
rush, rush with noise
autumnal equinox
Gods have forgiven
draped in saris
drowned in rivers
autumnal breathing
poetry of life.

After the Mend – A Poem by Paul Tristram

They couldn’t touch her anymore,
something had changed deep inside.
She closed doors all around herself,
seemed to have stopped smiling
and was only seen walking alone.
Luckily, this was only temporary,
a thoughtful pause between chapters.
She was fighting quietly,
being patient and careful,
waiting for the right people
and correct opportunities.
Her diligence and tenacity
were rewarded threefold.
Her life didn’t just start again
but blossomed and shifted up a gear.
She never mentions,
never mind speaks ill of
those past folk,
nor acknowledges their existence.
She wisely let the Dragons of Karma
destroy her once persecutors.
And whilst it was happening
she never once gloated,
laughed or even stopped to look around.

More at http://paultristram.blogspot.co.uk/.

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