Poetry Remains a Solid Anchor throughout Troubled Ages: A Glimpse of the 1918 Pandemic through Verse

An art that has brought people together for centuries and centuries past are poems. 

Poems were written and recited before William Shakespeare’s time, but expanded moreso after the greats of each society had left their impressions.

Another place where you can see poems piling up is during crises: whether it is times like the Great Depression, the Civil War, the 1918 pandemic or even the current COVID-19 pandemic. 

For the purposes of this article, 1918 poetry from the major flu pandemic that swept the country reveal a similar truth to the modern COVID-19 crisis.

 There are several poems from the 1918 Influenza Pandemic, some with a twist of humor in them. 

“Oh, we are quarantined, I guess

For ‘bout a million years

But if we don’t get out of here

We’ll burst right out in tears”

—Jesse Daniel Boone, 1918

“The toothpaste didn’t taste right—

Spanish Flu!”

The bath soap burned my eyes—

Spanish Flu!

My beard seemed to have grown pretty fast and tough overnight—

Spanish Flu!”

—anonymous, Winnipeg Tribune

“There’s a war going on in Europe,

So I’ve heard from newspaper talk;

But the only one I’m having

Is with influenza at the park”

—John Culberson, local boy under quarantine at Naval Station

However, the funny collections of verses aren’t the only ones that are relatable. There were, naturally, several tragic poems made.

“Walking through the fields, through Old Caney, I thought how is it possible on this beautiful night men are dying? Here, or in Europe, or anywhere. And I thought, Death, if I don’t think of you, you’ll vanish.”

—Horton Foote, 1918

““Listen here, children,” said Deacon Brown,

“There’s something new just struck this town

And it’s among the white and the colored, too

And I think they call it the Spanish Flu.”

They say it starts right in your head:

You begin to sneeze and your eyes turn red.

You then have a tight feeling in your chest,

And you cough at night and you just can’t rest.

Your head feels dizzy when you are on your feet;

You go to your table and you just can’t eat.

And if this ever happens to you,

You can just say you got the Spanish Flu.

Now, I got a brother and his name is John,

And he went to buy a Liberty Bond.

And he stopped to hear the big band play,

Upon the corner of Church and Gay.

But when he heard about the Flu–

It tickled me and would tickle you–

He bought his bond and went away:

Said he’d hear the band some other day.

But just as he got down on Vine,

He began to stagger like he was blind.

And a doctor who was passing by

Said, “What is the matter with this country guy?”

But as soon as he asked John a question or two,

He said, “Good night, you got the Spanish Flu.” “

—Joe Bogle, mid-October of 1918