The Germ
I took to khaki at a word,
And fashioned dreams of wonder.
I rode the great sea like a bird,
Chock full of blood and thunder.
I saw myself upon the field
Of battle, framed in glory,
Compelling stubborn foes to yield
As captives to my sword and shield—
This is another story.
We sat about in sun and sand,
We broke old Cairo's images,
Met here and there a swarthy band
In little, friendly scrimmages,
And here it is I start to kid
No Moslem born can hit me.
The Germ then that had long laid hid
Came out of Pharaoh's pyramid,
And covertly he bit me.
For some few days I wore an air
Of pensive introspection,
And then I curled down anywhere.
They whispered of infection,
And hoist me on two sticks as though
I bore the leper's label,
And took me where, all in a row
Of tiny beds, two score or so
Were raising second Babel;
But no man talked to any one.
And no bloke knew another.
This soldier raved about his gun,
And that one of his mother.
They were the victims of the Germ,
The imp that Satan pricks in,
First cousin to the Coffin Worm,
Whose uncomputed legions squirm
Some foul, atomic Styx in.
The Germ rides with the plunging shell,
Or on the belts that fret you,
Or in a speck of dust may well
One thousand years to get you;
Well ambushed in a tunic fold
He waits his special mission,
And never lad so big and bold
But turns to water in his hold
And dribbles to perdition.
Where is war's pomp and circumstance,
The gauds in which we prank it?
Germ ends for us our fine romance,
Wrapped in a dingy blanket.
We set out braggartly in mirth,
World's bravest men and tallest,
To do the mightiest thing on earth,
And here we're lying, nothing worth,
Succumbent to the smallest!
poem by Edward George Dyson
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Related quotes
The Germ
A mighty creature is the germ,
Though smaller than the pachyderm.
His customary dwelling place
Is deep within the human race.
His childish pride he often pleases
By giving people strange diseases.
Do you, my poppet, feel infirm?
You probably contain a germ.
poem by Ogden Nash
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The Acorn
An acorn swung
On an oak-tree bough;
So long it had hung,
It would fain fall now
To the kindly earth,
That its germ within
Might burst into birth,
And its life begin.
And the autumn came
With its burning hand,
And each leaf grew a flame,
And each bough a brand.
And a worm came up
And began to eat
Though the hard, dry cup
To the acorn sweet.
And the acorn thought,
“I shall soon see now
The life I have sought,
When I fall from the bough;
For the worm gnaws through
Each tendon slight,
That about me grew,
And bound me tight.”
And with dying day
Came the zephyr’s sound;
And the acorn lay
Next morn on the ground;
But its germ was gone
By the worm’s sharp teeth;
And the ground it had won
Was its grave in death.
poem by Francis William Bourdillon
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If you allow one single germ, one single seed of slavery to remain in the soil of America... that germ will spring up, that noxious weed will thrive, and again stifle the growth, wither the leaves, blast the flowers and poison the fair fruits of freedom.
quote by Ernestine L. Rose
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Germ Chaser
I knew a careful lady once
Who read a book by Dr. Bunce,
A wise authority on wogs
That roam about in dust and fogs;
Indeed, he pointed out, all air,
However pure, held germs somewhere;
They clung to door-knobs, crawled on floors,
Inhabited small change in scores.
In fact, there scarcely was a thing
To which some foul germ did not cling,
Ready to leap and work its will
To some poor luckless human's ill.
The lady closed the book and sighed,
And all content within her died.
This pleasant earth for her became
The haunt of wogs, and life a game
Of hide and seek. She joined the band
Of grim germ-chasers in the land.
She scoured and scrubbed, examined food -
Which, thus far, was all to the good -
But when she strove to disinfect
Her home, 'twas worse than mild neglect;
No hospital smelled half so bad,
And then, I fear, she went quite mad.
Her eye took on a maniac glare;
She saw germs lurking everywhere.
She hung up mottoes such as this:
'Ten thousand germs in every kiss.'
She would not handle coins or take
Another's hand for friendship's sake;
Scarce dared to eat or draw a breath
For fear she might imbibe her death.
She sprayed her husband, heels to head,
With crude carbolic till he fled;
But, since she had means of her own,
She much preferred to live alone.
When going into town one day,
Wrapped up and muzzled in a way
Quite microbe-proof, from foot to crown,
A passing motor knocked her down.
And where she's sleeping soundly now
The germs have got her, anyhow…
The point of this sad tale is here:
Better be dead than live in fear;
Better live like a Stone Age man
Before germ-consciousness began;
Better take chances, seems to me,
Than try to dodge what you can't see.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Best Things dwell out of Sight
998
Best Things dwell out of Sight
The Pearl—the Just—Our Thought.
Most shun the Public Air
Legitimate, and Rare—
The Capsule of the Wind
The Capsule of the Mind
Exhibit here, as doth a Burr—
Germ's Germ be where?
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Earth
why do i have such a
warm affinity to mother earth?
it's because it is so much older
every day of its age can
hold a cell of my body
in the air for all to see
only if i can stretch that far
every of its men if if alive again
can hold hand to hand round
the earth 20,000 times
i am the smallest germ
crawling through the
history of its pages
a trillionth of a second
of its time
if you have a line long as
the equator i cannot fill in
the dot of its existence
an ant running on the wall of
the tallest building in Dubai
and if the the whole existence
of earth is the time you need to
read from A to Z
i am a trillionth of the tiniest nerves
that help you see, think, and
open your mouth, navigate your tongue
in the ocean of registers before
hitting port with the sonal signal A
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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All Alone
Once upon a time, they sent a rocket to the moon
With scientific instruments to test conditions there
But just before they closed the door
One scientist expelled a germ
That accidentally found its way aboard and stowed away
For three years it remained undetected on the moon
It was the only living creature there
"I'm all alone
I'm all alone
Behold the mystery that is me"
Then one day the scientists recovered all their gear
Excited by the prospect of unearthly things inside
They found, to their astonishment, a living thing within
It seemed to bear good tidings from somewhere in outer space
"You're not alone
You're not alone
Behold the mystery that is me"
Soon they figured out the heinous error they had made
And now the earthly germ had something else it seemed to say...
"We're all alone
We're all alone
Behold the mystery
Behold the mystery
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Golden Hole
I am beside the river of love,
And of a wondrous marriage to swing my muse;
But of the joy like the flowers to forth a fairer hue.
The niddle's eye takes a camel through,
Far from the sacred shore i stand;
But while i was very sad,
The Golden Hole was there as my hope.
I love my wife and my children,
But let us give praise to the Creator;
Like the tree with the golden hair.
As far as eyes could see and the nose could smell,
For my share of the wine is over the cliff;
And out of the night,
This water from the river is spent and gone.
The moon was very bright on The Golden Hole,
And that germ of kindness will be my hope;
For my old age calls her love to me,
And like the one who does his duty by himself.
That germ of kindness in this hole,
Of the garden of herbs and fruits;
And out of the full heart and the boundless gratitude,
For this Golden Hole is all my hope.
Come and see this hole,
Like the working bee in blossom-dust;
And there is a thing in my mind to say,
But women are so quick to understand.
Fearing the lazy gossip of the port,
For by the river side i stayed and watched;
like a figure seen in the early dawn.
In The Golden Hole,
As a vision of a dream;
But i have loved you longer than you know.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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There are words which are worth as much as the best actions, for they contain the germ of them all.
quote by Anne Sophie Swetchine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Inside The Lonely Train
inside that lonely train
a man finds consolation in his black dog
but soon
life will be over as the train reaches
its destination too
death, oblivion, annihilation
on a global destruction
that even to his dog
a man cannot hold on to an intimacy
sooner, not later, everything ends
no dog, no man, no cockroach shall be spared
no virus, no germ, except perhaps
the truth, the word
not even this poem, this poet
or its reader too, because
it shall be.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic
Though Ive tried before to tell her
Of the feelings I have for her in my heart
Every time that I come near her
I just lose my nerve
As Ive done from the start
Every little thing she does is magic
Everything she do just turns me on
Even though my life before was tragic
Now I know my love for her goes on
Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand rainy days since we first met
Its a big enough umbrella
But its always me that ends up getting wet
Every little thing she does is magic
Everything she do just turns me on
Even though my life before was tragic
Now I know my love for her goes on
I resolve to call her up a thousand times a day
And ask her if shell marry me in some old fashioned way
But my silent fears have gripped me
Long before I reach the phone
Long before my tongue has tripped me
Must I always be alone?
Every little thing she does is magic
Everything she do just turns me on
Even though my life before was tragic
Now I know my love for her goes on
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic
Though Ive tried before to tell her
Of the feelings I have for her in my heart
Every time that I come near her
I just lose my nerve
As Ive done from the start
Every little thing she does is magic
Everything she do just turns me on
Even though my life before was tragic
Now I know my love for her goes on
Do I have to tell the story
Of a thousand rainy days since we first met
Its a big enough umbrella
But its always me that ends up getting wet
Every little thing she does is magic
Everything she do just turns me on
Even though my life before was tragic
Now I know my love for her goes on
I resolve to call her up a thousand times a day
And ask her if shell marry me in some old fashioned way
But my silent fears have gripped me
Long before I reach the phone
Long before my tongue has tripped me
Must I always be alone?
Every little thing she does is magic
Everything she do just turns me on
Even though my life before was tragic
Now I know my love for her goes on
song performed by by Police
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Anyway, that was the germ of the idea and of course... you know this was early days of sociology and whatever, especially on television.
quote by Michael Apted
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Storm
Come come try
Draw your scale
Try to make it special
Dont throw it all away
The time might be untrue
Dont screw the day theres
Something more to do
You are so special
You are a special germ
You are so special
In a restless world
Are you ready
To attack the storm
Are you ready
Poor poor fame
Still insane
Buy me a ticket
To get and go away
The world in my pocket
Shows me a way
Out of empty secrets
No more yesterday
You are special
You are so special
In a restless world
Are you ready
To attack the storm
Are you ready
I agree its enough to be just me
Silently theres a private symphony
Im lying here with some monsters in my bed
Im crying here with some monsters in my head
Lying here
Crying here
Im ready to run with the storm
song performed by by Guano Apes
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Eurydice - To Victor Hugo
Orpheus, the night is full of tears and cries,
And hardly for the storm and ruin shed
Can even thine eyes be certain of her head
Who never passed out of thy spirit's eyes,
But stood and shone before them in such wise
As when with love her lips and hands were fed,
And with mute mouth out of the dusty dead
Strove to make answer when thou bad'st her rise.
Yet viper-stricken must her lifeblood feel
The fang that stung her sleeping, the foul germ
Even when she wakes of hell's most poisonous worm,
Though now it writhe beneath her wounded heel.
Turn yet, she will not fade nor fly from thee;
Wait, and see hell yield up Eurydice.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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Brave Little Soldier
Im a brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
I must fight, I must win
Im a brave little soldier
Through hell and back again
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum
Per rum, pum, pum, pum, pum
Ye though I am marching through the valley filled with fear
My steps are sure and sturdy and my aim is straight and clear
The enemy is stalking me just waiting for the kill
Like david slewed galiath
I will claim this battle field
Im a brave little soldier
I must do what I can
Im a brave little soldier
And I must take a stand
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Marching, marching onward
Searching out the light of truth
I did not start the war
But its a battle I cant lose
Faith will be my armor
And love my sword and shield
I must defeat the enemy
I will, I will, I will
A brave little soldier
I must be bold and strong
A brave little soldier
And I must carry on
A brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Im a brave little soldier
A brave little soldier
Brave, little soldier
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There's always a germ of truth in just about everything.
quote by Jim Lehrer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hymn To Apollo
GOD of the golden bow,
And of the golden lyre,
And of the golden hair,
And of the golden fire,
Charioteer
Of the patient year,
Where---where slept thine ire,
When like a blank idiot I put on thy wreath,
Thy laurel, thy glory,
The light of thy story,
Or was I a worm---too low crawling for death?
O Delphic Apollo!
The Thunderer grasp'd and grasp'd,
The Thunderer frown'd and frown'd;
The eagle's feathery mane
For wrath became stiffen'd---the sound
Of breeding thunder
Went drowsily under,
Muttering to be unbound.
O why didst thou pity, and beg for a worm?
Why touch thy soft lute
Till the thunder was mute,
Why was I not crush'd---such a pitiful germ?
O Delphic Apollo!
The Pleiades were up,
Watching the silent air;
The seeds and roots in Earth
Were swelling for summer fare;
The Ocean, its neighbour,
Was at his old labour,
When, who---who did dare
To tie for a moment, thy plant round his brow,
And grin and look proudly,
And blaspheme so loudly,
And live for that honour, to stoop to thee now?
O Delphic Apollo!
poem by John Keats
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Growth itself contains the germ of happiness.
quote by Pearl S. Buck
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Elegy on a Brazilian Bug
I was warlord
of ten thousand
which multiplied by two
upon my word
whenever sand
ticked nanosecond through.
I was the Word
to a viral band
dividing yet anew,
where’er I stirred
in gut or gland,
spread grief – to each his due.
Card-coded cord,
D.N.A. band,
bound by genetic glue;
a hidden horde,
on every hand
mutating molecu.
As victims soared
some out of hand
perceived the risk that grew,
the threat explored, -
migration banned, -
strategic overview.
My rule was awed
by chain and strand,
primaeval soup and stew;
perverted curd
bad blood would brand, -
a death-mask was my brew.
In prayer implored
strong man, unmanned
with fear, and women too;
to dust restored
the pale, the tanned,
who died ere dawn dried dew.
So, silent s[c]ored
the brave, the bland,
pauper, patrician too;
those loved, adored,
the poor, the grand, -
God to his bosom drew.
With one accord
the fever fanned,
interring not a few;
until we heard
from a foreign land
of a feared French Institut.
Jet engines purred,
saw Concorde land,
descending from the blue;
the silver bird
God’s globe had spanned
with gamma-globulu.
France had prepared
Brazil’s demand –
her government well knew,
for they were scared,
could scarce withstand
the queues where sickness grew.
To germ, absurd,
to Man, ‘twas grand,
both bug and bitten knew
while men murmured
San Paolo’s sand
would test their techniques true.
Drugs undeterred,
injections canned,
from man to man they flew,
vaccines record
where their errand,
ten million jabs to do.
My genes had erred,
Merieux well planned,
they struck my stock so true!
Chromosomes blurred,
nor token stand
we could not make – adieu!
(24 June 1975)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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