Category Archives: poem about amoebas

Some Little Bug Inside Me


I am too sick to write a blog, I am a party hangout
for some amoeba who moved in and promptly called his gang out.
They’re having quite a time in there, yet keep wanting to leave.
Each time I have to see them out, I stumble and I weave.
My stomach feels like shattered glass, my head is slightly pounding.
I think they’re doing Zumba—flip-flopping and rebounding
against my corridors of gut. I wish that they would stop.
I can’t make it to the clinic to consult a microbe cop.
Is it a parasite or fluke ( contracted from my cat?)
When she strokes and kisses them, what cat owner thinks of that?
For now, I’m resting in my bed with electrolytes and Flagyl.
I’ve cancelled my appointments, for I’m feeling sort of fragile.
The world will demonstrate without me, and friends go out to dine
while I hang out with tiny guests, miserable and supine.


I had this same bug a year ago, when I had to call off my 70th birthday celebration, much-planned for, because I was so miserable. So, these pesky amoebas seem to be maintaining a schedule.  Unfortunately, I had a full day of activities planned today, as well—first of all a demonstration against Trump’s immigration policies, then a visit to my doctor, a visit to an ill friend, and dinner with another friend.  All cancelled.  Ironic that I’m too ill to go see my doctor.  Here’s another little ode to amoebas I wrote during an earlier bout named “Once Upon a Lime in Mexico.”


Ragtag’s prompt today is fluke .

Delayed Agenda

My first week after camp was out, I had so much to do,
but how I’d really spend it, I didn’t have a clue.
Sunday I was resting–staying close to home–
eschewing rituals of makeup, jewelry or comb.
Catching up on sleep and alone time and my blog.
Straightening camp clutter and shampooing my dog.

By Monday I was taking samples to the lab
for a friend who wasn’t feeling very fab.
Taking her electrolytes and medicine to do
what was necessary to execute a coup
on all the small amoebas who’d colonized her bod
and made of her their temple, their dwelling place, their god.

Version 2

On Monday night there was a birthday party for a friend,
but Tuesday brought my social life abruptly to an end
as I commenced a sort of party of my own,
communicating my own pleas upon the phone
for a friend to help me, for I was feeling fragile
and had an urgent need for electrolytes and Flagyl!

Two days at home just running between my bed and loo
left me with no time left for other things to do.
But when at last the meds kicked in, I found that I could go
to execute my errands, to meetings and a show
of kids on ukuleles that I’d committed to–
in three weeks, the third showing of kids for us to view.

So now it is a Sunday. I’ve fed the dogs a bite
and I have come back into bed to finish out the rite
of publishing this blog post and tweaking a few pictures
that I hope you’ll approve of with a minimum of strictures.
I’ll have a swim and then I’ll tackle that job I’ve been dreading
of cleaning all the piles off my desktop and my bedding!

Computers, files, folders, forms, boxes, books and cards.
Bits and pieces, piles and scraps, strips and orts and shards.
For months I’ve just kept piling things that I have just done,
unpacked or started packing–while I am on the run.
Now it’s time to organize, to put away and hide
all this mess I’ve found it necessary to abide.

I wish my life were simpler, my habitat more sparse,
but that would mean a schedule that gets me off my arse
earlier each morning, which would cut into my blog time–
my swimming and my photographing, dreaming and my dog time.
With only so much time each day, I must choose how to spend it;
for time is just not flexible. There is no way to bend it.


Desk # 1 Cleared off. Check!

So for two months I have chosen to write and teach and play–
to exercise and see my friends and post my blog each day.
And once a week to clear some space–my desk that’s in the sala.
Then I did a week of camp and the final gala.
Then I cleared the dining table of mat cutter and books,
papers, art supplies and pens. ratchets, screws and hooks.


Desk #2. Cleared of clutter. Check!

Then off again to one more week of art and words and kids
and those mean amoebas that put me in the skids.
But now I’m almost finished with this tedious little rhyme
which means that I have finally nearly reached the time
when I’ll do the final sorting task that I have to do–
of sorting of more desk rubble–the whole motley crew!


Desk #3. Today’s agenda.


Desk #4. Today’s further agenda.

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Obstacle Course.” Think about what you wanted to accomplish last week. Did you? What are the things that hold you back from doing everything you’d like to do?