#immune
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.
May 22, 2019
May 22, 2019 at 1:18 PM UTC
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
May 13, 2019
May 13, 2019 at 12:59 PM UTC
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!
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 9:47 PM UTC
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.
Oct 20, 2016
Oct 20, 2016 at 3:06 PM UTC
my wrists have been oozing blood
for the past 30 minutes
and it still hasn't stung
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 9:32 PM UTC
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
Jul 6, 2015
Jul 6, 2015 at 9:19 PM UTC
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.
Apr 19, 2013
Apr 19, 2013 at 7:44 AM UTC