Boogers, Nose Goblins & Snot --Oh My!

 
my love of boogers began when I was a small child
I would sneeze
and the snot would fly, big mucusy globs running down my face
usually blending with my tears

where asthma was a norm and my breathing constricted
they would let loose and I would eat them
disgusting I know but little did I know I was building immunity
the germs would attack and I would devour them
greenies being favored for their rich salty taste

sliding on down my face
I would often get in trouble for having such a messy nose
my dad insisted it was gross

that there was an art to sneezing without release
I just had to be practised at it
my dad often said I was snot nosed brat
he didn't understand it felt good to let it all out

as I grew I learned to hold the tide of boogers back
I mean not a hundred percent of the time
I liked a boy once and I sneezed and my desk was covered with it
embarrsed by a natural body function and my lack of control over it

but germs have been my buddies I have keen understanding of my body
when the phlem is sweet my body has an infection
you would not think there is anything to be said about the taste of a boogie
but that's where you'd be wrong

salty and you're in the clear it's just nature taking it's course
keeping your passages clear of pollen and etc
a greeny and your body is fighting an illness
off to the doctor post haste

the world of germs are fascinating
everything fights to survive even a disease is a living oraganism
it will fight for it's existence
germ a phobes beware cleaning you're environment is fine
but your skin is your first line of defense
you have little creatures on your body that work to keep this healthy

over sanitizing can kill them making your system faulty
it's a symbiotic relationship so don't fear the booger man, eat him

I'm not angry, I just grow tired,  
waking days clogged with mucus
I'm not happy, I’m just fed up,  
passing nights roll to no focus
 
Every breath, I test death
Keeping my problems upon my chest
 
Sleep used to be an escape,  
now a house of congestion
Being awake use to be ok,  
also having problems with digestion
 
Sitting here a broken man,  
OTC drugs not providing a solution
Not tasting or smelling life's pleasures,
Hacking up greenish, yellow pollution
 
I know this cold needs to run it's course,
sentenced, as though I committed a crime
But when your congested and full of mucus,
my patience run thin every single time.
 
 
 

Coughs and snotty sneezes spread diseases    
so trap your mucky germs in handkerchiefs,  
or put your head in a bag if you please its  
gross for you but for us, a jolly wheeze.  
   
Sneezes travel at ten mile per hour  
and it's an ill wind which sneezes no good,  
so think of someone's Aaachoo germ shower  
as time to keep fit and run off like Gump.  
   
The ancients saw sneezes as gifts from gods  
like Penelope in the Odyssey,  
so we sneeze and folk say " bless you " it's odd    
it's more the gods are blessing you and me.
 
Speaking of which I can count my blessings  
To find in my land 'flu shots cost, nothings...

Flooded with phlegm
My head is swollen
Choking on disgusting
Yellow fluids
Spitting up chunks
Or even bloody lumps
Digest the mess
Slurping nasal dribble
With a chewy middle
Yellow red green brown
Won't stop chuggin' till the slime goes down
Digesting nasal pudding
But I cannot stop the flowing

Get Well Soon...

The warning signs of a cold are drear
the cough that took so long to clear
I`v tried the old wives remidies
but all I did was cough and sneeze
my sinuses were pounding pain
behind my eyes, deep ingrained
 
Paper tissue trail I left
and all I felt was wrecheness
 sneezed and sneezed for evermore
feeling I was at deaths door
drowning in a vat of phlegm
day and night, am on to late pm
 
No one showed sweet empathy
my head a hive of buzzing bees
a nose which Rudolf would be proud
bathed in a greenish / yellow mounds
when time is slowed on my body clock
as the ailment vile, seems to run amok
 
I stored the product of my pain
on easel set a golden frame  
stirred up the gloop in a cooking pot
defiying its grim and inscecent grot
mixed in the paints with a gleeful WHOOP
the thought of my dignity I`d recoop
called it "the nightmare thats best forgot"
painted ten, and sold the lot