Giant Words Said

Amoxicillin. Metronidazole.
8-hourly, take the antibiotics.
And it was insisted, ‘no alcohol’.
Prescribed for me, not simply narcotics.

The drinks ban to continue for 8 days.
Should get me over this painful teething.
Medicine and abstinence, pain erase.
Told, ‘no booze until Boxing Day evening’.

So, I cannot raise my Christmas spirit.
No champagne toast, no wine or prosecco.
Or some aged port, even to a limit.
A beer, as well, might leave me sick and low.

This year, my Christmas celebration thing,
Metronidazole. Amoxicillin.

Diclofenac Diethylammonium.
Squeeze it from the tube and rub it in, bold.
There’s no need for pained pandemonium.
As a soft balm it will quickly dissolve.

To hands, on to knees, then ‘bumps-a-daisy’.
Well, in the sense that it is hips and back.
And whatever else that connects, maybe.
Soothing limbs and joints, where can, as a fact.

It carefully applied, although firmly,
in the area of the ache and pain.
Able to move again, personally.
Unhurt function thereby restored, regained.

Be almost like a spring lamb or a foal,
the miracle, I hope, that’s Voltarol.

Germfree? No! That’s just mysophobia.
The end product of a ‘clean’ obsession.
A bacteria-free utopia.
Desperate to stay clear of infection.

Likely cause upset and consternation,
if an impurity cross the threshold.
So, disinfecting in operation.
A sterile environment to behold.

And prohibition on hugs and kisses.
That would mean a spray-down and mouth washing.
Communication at safe distances.
Change of clothes after regular bathing.

A person’s personal dystopia,
if suffering from mysophobia.

Surface veined and streaky as in marble.
In obscure language called ‘marmorated’.
Like a patterned surface on a table,
it naturally variegated.

Maybe the back of an old person’s hand.
Or a leg riddled with varicose veins.
Sensitive where skin stretched or thin, unplanned.
‘Marmorated’, when described, could be claimed.

It may, or may not, be celebrated,
marbling effect, as though it is plated.
Smooth, just not seem so, when contemplated.
Unpredictable design created.

By how it looks, like me fascinated,
seeing this feature that’s marmorated.

‘The only thing to fear is fear itself’,
President Franklin D Roosevelt’s comment.
Yet, fear of fear is a matter of health.
Into a mental descent can be sent.

The condition is phobophobia.
Brings anxiety anticipating
anxiety. And before recover,
confronting the object. Confront the thing,

that perceive is the trigger for the fear.
May set it off. May get a reaction.
Maybe a panic attack will appear.
Or, a ‘not so bad’ realisation.

But fear of fear itself, as phobia,
a mental construct. Phobophobia.

Decalcomania. Transfer across
using heat, via steam or an iron.
Or water. Ending up on a new host,
the pattern or whatever the design.

Revised attitudes may be thought decals.
Although those brought about by persuasion.
A sort of heat, I suppose, that entails.
Perhaps done over a long duration.

So, a well-known phrase ‘like father like son’.
Could apply, too, ‘like mother like daughter’.
In some ways, child like the parent becomes.
But not wholly. Aspects, themselves alter.

And some transference of views, a failure.
Then, from outside, decalcomania.

It is a concise saying or maxim,
an apophthegm, or aphorism.
Like, ‘the start is the best place to begin’.
Or, ‘devil’s out from an exorcism’.

I suppose one such is ‘cruel to be kind’.
Perhaps, ‘yesterday was a time back then’.
No doubt, ‘what you’re thinking, you have in mind’.
‘Come out of a deep hole, and you ascend’.

‘You can make it up as you go along’.
‘It’s what I’m doing, my activity’.
‘A sonnet poem is a little song’.
‘Keeping what say concise, is brevity’.

‘Expect the music to have a rhythm’.
‘A quick concept said, with apophthegm’.

Don’t think of blood swilling around. Sphyg me.
Don’t think of the pressure when bound. Sphyg me.
Read the situation reasonably.
Sphyg me now, then sphyg me repeatedly.

Here we are with the machine switched on right.
Hand and arm put through the adjoining rig.
Tighten that up to the muscle’s delight.
Then make use of the sphyg. Press on the sphyg.

There will be figures to note, not forget.
Diastolic, systolic, come up quick.
The pace the pulse going, too, can expect.
When accurate, tells its story, the sphyg.

Sphygmomanometer is its full name.
Recorded blood pressure, by it, attain.

Misogyny, as properly defined,
is ‘hatred’ of women, which by the way,
differs from ‘contempt’, although they’re aligned.
That’s in disparaging jokes comics say.

Broad sexism now termed misogyny,
but that’s not specific; too general.
Could apply gynophobia, maybe.
‘Fear of women’. That’s not the same at all,

‘though could be linked; like genophobia,
‘fear of intercourse’; philophobia,
‘relationship’; venustraphobia,
‘beautiful ones’; pistanthrophobia,

‘not trust’. That is the fear of getting hurt.
But, it’s violence to women that’s the curse.

The word likely known in psychiatry
and psychotherapy, but not outside.
Androphobia. An anxiety.
A fear of men, which internal resides.

Women mainly with this, although some men,
too, with a homosexual concern.
To more women than let on, this extend.
Androphobia, until to cope, learn.

Also, may be so, philophobia.
Fear of romantic connection; of love.
That might get hurt, pistanthrophobia.
Fear of sexual intercourse, the fuss.

That genophobia. Link to, or cause,
androphobia. And then, what befalls.