"cortisone" poems
The way your body hugs mine
You sleep and you insist on holding me to your chest
The way you love me
I have never been so important to someone.
He is my Scotsman
I am his Spanish cortisone.
He loves me.
I love him.
I can't believe I'm so lucky
To find someone as special as you.
Aug 7, 2014
Aug 7, 2014 at 7:54 AM UTC
The doctor rubbed my sore shoulder
spraying copious amounts of analgesic compound
to freeze the area
from the side of my eye I caught the
silver glint of a 6 inch needle poised
to penetrate my quivering shoulder
with cortisone
intense pain exploded through my consciousness
as the syringe fracked into the deeper regions of
my shoulder
Afterwards, while reflecting on this incident
I thought about polarities and Newton’s Law:
“For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction”
The pain I had just experienced did not occur in a vacuum
Somewhere along the time continuum I’d set up that opposite
swing of the pendulum
I recollected all the intense moments of extreme and dizzying
sense enjoyment, lust and gratification
my mind has sought and indulged in with rabid satisfaction
always wanting more, restless, never content or at peace
When we examine this world, and its quintessential duality
we are confronted with extremes at every angle
Hot, cold, up, down, win, lose
We can’t have birth without death and so on
hmm…. I thought as the enlightenment bulb
went off in my head
This is why many great sages and saints
fostered a way of life that
transcended duality
Lord Buddha extolled the “Middle Path”
He described the middle way as moderation
between the excesses of carnal indulgence
and self mortification
Aristotle gave us the “Golden Mean”
“every virtue is a mean between two extremes, each of which is a vice.”
Sathya Sai Baba states:
“The object of meditation is equanimity,
the object of equanimity is samadhi (enlightenment or self realization)"
This beautiful quote by Bhagavan Baba is redolent with wisdom
and sublime beauty:
“Surrender to God and to life means the absence of duality
and being of the same nature as God.
But such a state is beyond man’s will.
Surrender is when doer, deed and object are all God.
It comes naturally to a heart filled with love for God.
God is as a spring of fresh and sweet water in the heart.
The best tool to dig a well to that inexhaustible source and
savor its sweetness, is Japa (Chanting God’s Name)
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 12:38 PM UTC
At one point I couldn’t find love to purchase
I thought you ended those searches
but now I’m getting nervous
thinking I might be allergic
to your nature absurdist
and I can’t swerve this
feeling I’m worthless
stripped of all purpose
boils start to burn us.
I’ve got an eczema
sense of a
relationship
rashly lips
can’t kiss
who they wish.
I can’t leave the house
or your eczema breaks out
you scream and shout
and make me doubt
if your love is devout
when you treat me like trout.
Stress boils through my skin
after you tell me I win
and leave my house of sin
leaving a gift in
an itch
given by a witch
to make me twitch.
You’re the itch that rashes
causing unnecessary scratches
leaving a width of lashes
on my skin in patches
your personality matches
the blistering ashes
of my skin that detaches.
I keep itching
I keep scratching
to be switching
from your thrashing
into comfort
to numb hurt
of dumb words
creating thunder.
A doctor gave me a prescription
to avoid your dereliction
and feral diction.
He gave me an antidote
in a plan of hope
helping me cope
with saying nope.
The rash lingers
like poison fingers
choking me
woefully
draining life
like rain at night
I pray for light
and wait inside.
I found cortisone
in the form of a home
with a man
so I’m in demand
not your empty hand
red from the brand
of all the discomfort you withstand
now that you’re itching like sand
seeing I’m no longer ******
Jun 5, 2020
Jun 5, 2020 at 5:46 AM UTC
First, throw in heaps of leotards and tights,
Piles of pointe shoes and old band aids.
Follow that with boxes
and boxes full of shiny,
rainbow colored dance costumes.
Then stacks of bills for the cortisone shots
that saved arthritic hips.
Boil away all traces of emotion,
No one likes a soup salted with painful memories.
Add a pinch of the cash father sent every month
just to keep mother off his back.
Allow a glance at family pictures
where everyone is smiling before they get thrown into the ***
Mixing with the remnants to create a strange soup.
A deck of cards next, I think, with some Kibi
for a Middle Eastern flair.
Now turn down the heat so that lovely burning boil becomes just a simmer of anger and
Go find the crates of things better left unsaid.
Rummage through the
“OFF LIMITS” box,
pull out the nightgowns Uncle loved too much
and throw those in as well,
Just for fun.
Jun 20, 2010
Jun 20, 2010 at 1:27 AM UTC
Cranberry juice is not meant
as a topical medicament
for the treatment of private part itches,
I found out when I confided to
this girl online
that I had this serious itching
predicament
in places I didn't want to mention out-loud,
I told her how I had tried
Preparation H, Lamisil,
baby powder, Cortisone ointment,
Eucerin, and even Calamine lotion,
she said I probably had
a yeast infection, that
men can get them,
and her having the usual equipment
that tends to get this type of malady more frequent,
I took her suggestion of one glass a day
of cranberry juice.
Poured one glass over the offending itchy parts
before my shower each day.
When I told her her remedy was not doing anything but staining my privates, I heard her laughing, she dropped offline for ten minutes.
My face turned red when she finally came back and said laughing,
"I meant to drink it!"
Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 4:45 PM UTC
Chasing camels knowing nothing
Faded, crossing the grass!
Dollar signs in my hair, nothing nothing, despair
Something sweeps along!
Pirates (become) cool again, kingdoms crossing dens
I wonder what keeps you afloat!
In the end however
You shall ought to ought discover
You better pay attention
Cause those wallabies won’t be merciful today
An hundred ***** dozen
The earth’s cosmic crap
Don’t worry about a thing
Let it all hang out loose
The floating desert above my window
Seeing cacti from miles around
That melty feeling in the floor
Buddy, buddy, buddy, buddy
Cortisone, Caroline, chlamydia
Ryan Reynolds’ ***** fat old swine
Never letting go of this once-ward prime
Purple moles with drills on their heads
Green dotty daughters of pinkness concoction
Creation of the nullness of the black thing-a-mah-bob
Relapse and relax, do your slam thing.
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 8:02 AM UTC
Im a courtisan of cortisone
I dream in adrenal tones
caught in thrall of them all
Im a dope fiend for my dopamine
but oxytocin is the belle of the ball
if only I could find some more to score
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 9:09 PM UTC
(20 minute poetry)
Them can scoot fast when the last seat's available,
don't worry about this old rhymer
he can spend some time a
standing
he's had plenty of practice
but in waiting for the opportunity that I'm sure as **** is due to me
I keep my weather eye open.
Them's still young,
got years left to sit
years for their dreams
to come untrue.
And it's nothing to do
with it being Friday
this is everyday
sometimes I think
if only the wheels of
industry moved as quickly,
but that thought fades away
as this day will
and
them's still young
It's no fun but it's bearable.
Nov 25, 2016
Nov 25, 2016 at 3:53 AM UTC
how you make me feel
it consumes my mind
entertains me, captivates me, holds me in a cell
my feelings wanting to break free
yet
my lips are sealed
when you ask me who do you want
I say nothing
enslaved by my own will
I dont want to speak
you know I want you
I can't hide my actions
my speculations are driving me crazy
I am trapped
I am trapped
what if I spoke
more than just a stupid joke
I would be free
I could be me
Freedom of feeling
it is liberating
also deteriorating
decorating
heart-breaking
faking
when feelings are like a fragile glass
shattered at the slightest shake
is it really worth
risk taking
Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 12:30 AM UTC
U
were never there
left alone without U
when I first realized
I cried
I am nothing to you.
But to me
U
are everything
I am a disposable object
a mirage
broken
U
are not me
without me
u are whole
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 10:25 PM UTC