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Sara Kellie May 2019
We play with creepy things
to quell the fear inside us.
Disguised in life it brings,
the woodlice and the spiders.
...
The mud pies and the worms
all made in preparation.
With life's persistent germs
a stronger generation.
...
And because what we consume
eventually makes us stronger.
The mud pies and the worms
will make us all live longer.

Poetry by Kaydee.
Building a natural immunity in life.
Learning, living and eating mud pies.
Kat Raven May 2019
I might just be too good for you, or you too good for me.
So immune to love, so unchangeable.
Will you take me in?
You did many things, that I liked.
And your name deserves to be in my heart.
But you sleeping with a frozen heart and it belongs to someone else.
You made me feel so real, so unacquainted.
You brought the thrill, the risk, the rush.
I live for danger...
I haven't been around town in a long while, with you.
I apologize, but I've been trying to get over you by seeing them.
And you wished me good luck, to find somebody to love.
Honey please, don't leave.
I just might be too good for you.
Unrestricted, so priceless.
I'm everything.
I deserve it.
...
Take me in
The Town _ The Weeknd (Inspiration)
Kate ***** and Anthony Bourdain
both beloved affluential cognoscenti,
     (took their life via cerebral hypoxia)
     neither death can one explain

left family and friends to speculate
     without lapsing into speculation
     impossible knot
     to veer off toward inane,

where fame nor fortune no immunity
     against unbeknownst
     deathly accursed mental illness
     impact their adherents

     plus affect large swath
     of population in the main
cuz, (strictly my opinion)
     the tightly woven

     world wide web doth plain
lee meld humanity linkedin
     by avast societal reign
forcing the global community to train

energies toward heightened
     awareness (yes in vain)
for those who tightened noose around neck
     as grief doth wax and wane

no doubt less prominant persons
     amidst every walk
of life give admittance
     to grim reaper, who doth stalk

every mortal being tempting surrender soul
     for eternal peace, where soul asylum
     sacrifice forsaken to black hawk
swooping down soundlessly

     to ****** priceless human life
     subsequently, whence
     benumbed onlookers gawk
aware how precarious, riotous, and tenuous
     the psyche offers no resistance,
     nor doth balk

at absent awareness,
     how collective adoration wears
a funereally ghostly, horribly immensely
     joylessly knitted veil

eludes measurement, though nonetheless
     unanimity that far reaching sadness
     weighs heavy on tear filled side of scale
witnessed by grievous next of kin,

     who struggle to accept severe de rail
ment of unsuspecting hidden agony im pail
ling corporeal flesh gouging body electric
     on par with a nine inch nail

jaggedly renting asunder (an unseen male
strum) pitching one incognito,
     no matter she/he appears hearty and hale
leaving a wake of inconsolable paroxysms
     causing thee human league to ail!
Morgan Kelly Oct 2016
A dry desert feeling creeps up my throat
I can almost feel the bright,
Red color lining the soft tissue.
Body aches starting at all twenty digits,
Eventually make their way throughout the body.
Sickness.

To some an excuse for rest,
"So why does sickness make me so upset?"
I try to scream,
But, alas, my voice is lost.

Ah, the voice,
What a silly instrument,
"Silly how," you may ask.
Well, it's weak.

Why can't my two ***** of vibrating tissue,
Stay healthy?
I need to use those stubborn chords,
My voice should not be diminished,
It should be strong.
This is a major problem,
That, to others, may seem minor.

Sing the notes,
Finish the chord,
Don't be flat,
That doesn't mean go sharp.
ENOUGH!
I can't even sing.

Unable to participate in a pleasurable passion,
All because of a
****
Weak
Immune System.
Annie McLaughlin Feb 2016
my wrists have been oozing blood
  for the past 30 minutes
and it still hasn't stung
Cori MacNaughton Jul 2015
Finally it is done.

For months I have been
collecting ingredients
for the magical elixir -
home grown ginger and rosemary,
fresh organic garlic, onions and lemon,
finely chopped jalapeno pepper,
powdered turmeric,
Ceylon cinnamon,
tulsi, kelp and black pepper.

What eluded me was the
pungent, fresh horseradish,
unexpectedly absent in our stores
and farmers markets,
until a birthday trip to New York,
when we found the massive roots
in a Russian market.

And, once properly chopped
and shredded and zested,
all is covered and bathed
in organic apple cider vinegar,
a superfood in itself,
where it will draw out the
healing constituents
of each vital ingredient,
creating a powerhouse of wellness.

And now we wait.

Four to eight weeks
of shaking the jars every day
before we drain the lot,
run the pulp through a juice extractor
and add the final touch ...
local honey, raw and unfiltered,
adding sweetness and
its own preserving power,
along with a strong boost to health.

A long time to wait
for this Nectar of the Gods,
but so very worth it:
a shot of this each day
and colds and flu stand no chance -
bacteria and virus alike
overwhelmed -
say goodbye to illness.

Let us now give thanks
to our grandmothers
and all the lay herbalists
of generations long past,
for through their efforts,
our own knowledge
is greatly enriched.

We stand on the shoulders of giants.

5July2015
My ode to one of the most healing elixirs on the planet, popularized by herbalist Rosemary Gladstar in her books for well over 35 years.  Having loved the stuff for years, I just made my first half-gallon batch on July 4th - my personal Independence Day from mainstream medicine.

Recently, three business people with few scruples and less common sense, having gotten the idea and initial recipe from a friend, who no doubt came by it through Rosemary Gladstar or one of her many proteges, decided to trademark the phrase "fire cider," claiming - dishonestly - that they had invented it, despite it having been around for decades - if not generations - under that name.  
Suddenly, lay herbalists all over the country had their listings removed from Etsy and other websites for intellectual property infringement, even though many of the said herbalists had been selling fire cider for far longer than the name had been trademarked.

Being something of a rebel myself, I have made and will continue to make Fire Cider using its original name, crediting Rosemary Gladstar as the original source - even though she herself acknowledges that it is far older than she, and even she learned about it from an older herbalist - and publicly thumb my nose at the cretins who trademarked the phrase, with the firm belief that they should be ashamed of themselves for trying to capitalize on OTHER PEOPLE'S WORK while claiming it as their own.

It is up to us, We the People, for keeping knowledge such as this free and available to the public at large.  Lives may well depend upon it.

For those who wish to learn how to make fire cider for yourselves, I direct you to the YouTube videos that Rosemary Gladstar and Mountain Rose Herbs have generously provided to the public for free.  
Herbalists in general are a generous lot, and she is one of the finest, along with Susun ****, both of whom were inspired by my personal favorite herbalist, the late British veterinarian and master herbalist Dr. Juliette di Bairicli-Levy.  
I recommend the work of all three herbalists highly.

For those with kids or animals, the books on herbalism by Dr. di Bairicli-Levy are invaluable, as she spent the better part of seventy years traveling the world and learning the herbal medicine traditions of people in every part of the world, initially as it pertained to their animals, but ultimately for use with humans as well.  
Her "Complete Herbal for the Dog and Cat" and "Complete Herbal for Barnyard Animals" (which includes dogs and cats, but in less detail) are must-have volumes for anyone with animals.  
She successfully ran a very busy animal clinic in London, England, where she was routinely curing even distemper and rabies cases - diseases that modern veterinary science still considers incurable today - and she was curing them in the 1930s.  
Do yourself - and your family - a favor, buy her books, and keep them at the ready, for whatever may come along.  You will be glad you did.
In a sterile society, who needs immune systems?
If the title is the offensive part, I take offense!
I’m confined in my room
Reminiscing the days that have gone
I remember when I first felt it
Or the lack thereof of feeling

I yearn for my blood to rise
To feel any kind of pain
And yet,
Even joy misses me

I am no longer who I was
Just a soulless tomb
Blank and dull eyes
And a heart that beats out nothingness.

— The End —