"epinephrine" poems
I hold the feather’s weight of your artery in my pick-ups,
and tiptoe the tightrope about which life and death abuts.
You’re a 2 AM trauma and we still don’t know your name,
the social worker’s thin lips had mouthed: “estranged.”
I read your anatomy like a text as you flat-line:
your hands turn blue as your heart falls still in mine.
The monitor hums "out of time," but by Epinephrine,
and Grace, your chest resumes its rise.
I leave trauma bay in prayer: for the surviving, not the knife;
for the closeness of my hands in your chest, our joining in this life.
Tonight I see you at the Kroger, buying TV dinners and beer.
I hide behind cereal, admiring the life I’d held dear.
But you look so tired, and my heart breaks for how when you died,
I would’ve sold the shoes off my feet to buy you more time.
I wish you knew how precious was each of your heartbeats,
I wish you the wisdom of my view:
How fragile the stent is where your veins meet.
Apr 5, 2018
Apr 5, 2018 at 7:32 PM UTC
A Jersey girl came along
and I started to think about angles of yaw
needed to take flight,
how the force of a kick skirts
the delicate line between winning and losing.
I’ve seen it all before, but not like this. Besides, seeing
has nothing to do with believing.
Corneas can't capture the vibrations of molecules or excitations
of electrons. Champions defy biology,
overcome gravity and I believe what goes up
does not always come down.
I want to know the point where focus takes control
of epinephrine, who’s cascade is initiated by the roar of a crowd,
but negatively regulated by doubt,
when to take a long shot or build up slowly.
I want to live the difference between accuracy and precision,
taste the dirt, become painted with bruises and scorch my heart.
A flag is heaviest when you carry it,
lightest when it’s raised,
worn as a cape and allowed to wave in the wind.
Countries aren't build, they're created created
denying muscles oxygen but allowing them to taste gold.
It's ability to conduct electricity astounds me.
It’s not about alchemy
but transforming sweat into tears,
fixing nitrogen, reducing triglycerides.
Not all reactions need light, some create it.
It’s only over when there’s not enough energy for activation.
Dec 9, 2012
Dec 9, 2012 at 8:35 PM UTC
in the somatic nervous system,
acetylcholine (ACh) stimulates skeletal muscle, causing contraction
action potentials
in the 8am physio lecture,
the biggest on campus
crammed with nursing majors,
and health science hankerers,
public health preachers,
OT saints and angels
amino acid NTs: glutamate (+) GABA (-) aspartate (+) glycine (-)
the prof wrote on a distant whiteboard
too many complained about being lost
she made a joke about feeding *******
to mice for her neuroscience research
amines: serotonin (-) dopamine (-/+) norepinephrine (+/-) epinephrine (+)
STEM-dominated
when i'm just looking
to drop my roots
and press that
good earth into
the spaces between
my toes and
under my nails
but the grounds are a garden
of biodiversity from clippings
gathered by migrant habit-clad
founders more than a century ago
the soil is fertile it is temperate
there are water filters in most residences
there is enough here for me
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 3:06 PM UTC
At this precise moment.
I'm nothing but a human being under the intense influence of dopamine, norepinephrine, epinephrine and testosterone.
The infuriating effects will last, as will my aggression.
There's a reason why this is all happening. You.
Because of you.
I have no hatred nor much of the love I had for you.
For you have taken that away from me, and given it to him.
I have no words for you.
All the best.
Jul 28, 2014
Jul 28, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
i remember this one conversation
with such clarity it alarms me
in the dead of night
with a longing for ecstasy
seeping through his tone he asked me,
"could..you imagine....what..life...would be like...if we weren't..mentally ill?"
and with that question
my hanging heart
sunk even lower into its pit
due to jealousy and frustration
for my cursed blessing
and i was confused on how
for i had believed my heart already laid
at what i'd thought to be
rock bottom
well besides that,
he did provoke me
to question
is there is a chance
for my heart to find
its rightful place
in my body
yet again?
and maybe along with it
all of my chemical receptors,
and my neurological network of pathways
could all find their own
harmonious balance and natural sources
of dopamine, serotonin, and epinephrine
and have them work "flaw"lessly
just, way they were originally created to
when the goddess of mental
crafted these things with such care
and gifted those beautifully painful things
to humankind
****
the unholy things i'd do to obtain
the goddess of neurotypicality's
scientific? spiritual? situational?
whatever the **** is in her elixir of secret
for mental peace and serenity
that few were blessed with unconditionally
to me it just sounds like magic
but back to him the only way i could reply
was with,
"i could only dream"
for i believe
in a lifetime of mine past
i may may have made a deal
with the devil of neurodiversity,
a fallen angel without malice,
who simply forgot
to grant me the knowledge
of how i would be reborn
into a world
where its society
would be unfit for me and my kind of mind
and with that thought lingering i added,
"but yeah...it must be nice"
Jun 10, 2021
Jun 10, 2021 at 6:27 AM UTC
Serotonin
Oxytocin
mu-2
Kappa
Melatonin
Acetylcholine
Dopamine
Epinephrine
Your love is a drug
your touch is an addiction
with pupil dilation
and body feeling free
I really do
even scientifically get high
when you are next to me
The hormones and pheromones
flow in through my nose
sink into my skin
and flow through
then out again
as we lay entwined
smelling
tasting
and touching each other.
To explain love
is both intangible
illogical
and unknown
while at the same time
a scientific
and physiological study
of the way our bodies interact.
True love
versus
lust and arousal
which is more addicting
and which is something worth predicting?
These must be the reasons
why when we are together
we cannot seem to think
we just want to sleep
we laugh about nothing
and smile for miles
we both go limp
and hard at the same time
sending us both on a ride
that leaves us flying high
I must say
that addiction runs in my family
and I am not sure
I will ever be able to give you up.
Worse than nicotine
caffeine
pills
and alcohol
Your love truly is a drug
and I will never leave you under the rug.
It is said that what is between two people,
is something no other will understand
even the most in depth conversation
can never explain
….and yet here I am
writing ten times a day
to try and convey this feeling to others
all in complete
pride and vain.
Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 3:25 PM UTC
Blindsided by a rhinoceros.
Tendons, muscles, unraveling. I can't do this any--
Glitch, system failure, shutdown
Restart, blue screen, flashing cursor
Epileptic shock. Epinephrine injected
Command line. Run:
Beautiful flying objects thrown violently.
Don't open this door! Kiss me hard
And not in a good way (if you remember how),
Like when fishes try to breathe on dry
Land on jagged Rock
Climbing without
Gears spinning and clanking
*** and pan. (Glass and sand)
Sizzling in this artificial sun
Created by brainwaves soaked in
****** and LSD and yellow cake uranium
Ghostriding patterns erupting like
Stop. Fail. Restart.
Detecting equipment...
No input present. How will you communicate?
Try again. Restart.
Password required.
Why don't you eat?
These tears are making my face numb.
Put this in your arm.
Trust me, you'll love it.
You'll have Tesla coming out of every orifice.
Dancing physics, matryoshkas.
You can deny the existence of a God and live,
But if you deny the existence of gravity...
Well, just try and walk off this cliff.
"These thoughts are so scattered.
I don't even think they're mine."
Those memories? They're not yours.
They belong to your master's daughter.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
We're Replicants.
We boot up, we shut down, we most definitely restart.
Viruses make us sick and sometimes break us to the point where we need new hardware.
Sometimes they break our firmware and we need to wipe.
We have command lines to perform actions, and registry keys to keep memory stored of the things we learn.
The world is our power supply,
and when we boot up in safe mode,
like
some
people
do
every
day,
we only use the bare minimum of our potential.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I must be dying, I'm only this awkward when I'm dying.
Connection timed out.
Feb 17, 2011
Feb 17, 2011 at 7:26 PM UTC
Blindsided by a rhinoceros.
Tendons, muscles, unraveling. I can't do this any--
Glitch, system failure, shutdown
Restart, blue screen, flashing cursor
Epileptic shock. Epinephrine injected
Command line. Run:
Beautiful flying objects thrown violently.
Don't open this door! Kiss me hard
And not in a good way (if you remember how),
Like when fishes try to breathe on dry
Land on jagged Rock
Climbing without
Gears spinning and clanking
*** and pan. (Glass and sand)
Sizzling in this artificial sun
Created by brainwaves soaked in
****** and LSD and yellow cake uranium
Ghostriding patterns erupting like
Stop. Fail. Restart.
Detecting equipment...
No input present. How will you communicate?
Try again. Restart.
Password required.
Why don't you eat?
These tears are making my face numb.
Put this in your arm.
Trust me, you'll love it.
You'll have Tesla coming out of every orifice.
Dancing physics, matryoshkas.
You can deny the existence of a God and live,
But if you deny the existence of gravity...
Well, just try and walk off this cliff.
"These thoughts are so scattered.
I don't even think they're mine."
Those memories? They're not yours.
They belong to your master's daughter.
I must be dying, I'm only this awkward when I'm dying.
Connection timed out.
Jan 14, 2011
Jan 14, 2011 at 12:53 AM UTC
You signal with your eyes, permission. It’s a look that twists my heart. My epinephrine increases, inhibits insulin secretion and my blood glucose rises. Hands roam mountains and valleys. Hips become handles. We scatter clothes across the room. Our thoughts are scattered. Down isn’t the floor, it’s the opposite of high. My breath is caught between my lungs and your tongue, darting across mine. Pain flirts with pleasure. Whoever said lips taste like strawberries is wrong. They taste much better than that.
Apr 18, 2013
Apr 18, 2013 at 9:43 PM UTC
I find safety in the darkness of the crowd
The cumulative hum is deafening until
My ears ring with incompetence for the sound
My hips are going in between the claps
And my legs burn from dancing too ferociously
Only flashes of light reveal my expression
Beaming with a misplaced innocence
I try to focus on his face only to find myself
Staring down black pupils like barrels of a gun
It’s been a long day, I’m clean out of epinephrine
It feels good to have your shoulder in my throat
To put my weight on something else and forget gravity
I’ve made an escape, the result of a good night
I find consolation in a repeated tomorrow
I catch a free ride and stumble into the city
By night I’m so much further than where I arose
Drifting unintentionally and forgetting all the rules
Always late to arrive and early to leave,
I’m never where you need me to be
Just a mind finite and floating
But if I lived as just a heart
As just a shrine for my soul to breathe
Then, I would be perfect.
It’s this bag of flesh that slows me down
Like an expiration date.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 2:39 AM UTC
Am I really someone special?
Of course you are
How do you know
You're special to me
What does that mean?
You make my heart beat
You make my pulse pulse
Isn't that special
That's just adrenocorticotropic
**** we're more than just cortisol
Are we though? What makes us more?
You can think to ask that question
So what who can't
You make my epinephrine spike babe
Thanks, my endocrine glands are addicted to you
Don't worry about it, we're just sacks of meat
Hehe flesh bags coursing with chemicals
Right, your thoughts are just electricity
You're a battery, a light bulb and a RC car
You're a self guided drone with no master
You're sweet, lets go recharge
Powering down the fleshy prison
See you in day 9101 of my imprisonment
See you in the fourth dimension
You're right see you there first
You are special
You too
May 16, 2016
May 16, 2016 at 2:58 PM UTC
*an Ode to Eppie
I once had what I thought was a brilliant idea
My friends listened dutifully without the eye roll the less loyal would have thrown in
Before announcing that I am not allowed to name any children I end up having
So I sure as **** better find a husband with an idea of what a name is
I wanted a daughter named Epic
Because I couldn’t imagine a bigger adventure than parenting
And there was no way I was dealing with the torture of pregnancy
To produce a child that was anything less than epic
I wanted a daughter with the world laid out for her
There would be no painful heart wrenching breakups for her
No gangly awkward phase
She would be the physical representation of the bond her father and I shared
She would be love incarnated
And I can’t imagine anything more epic than that
I wanted a daughter named Epic
Nicknamed Eppie
Bambi told me that nickname was even worse than hers
And I named her after a cartoon deer with a dead mother
I guess they might have a point in this who name thing
I wanted a daughter named Epiphany
Because if I am ever (crazy) lucky enough to bring a girl into this world
With my genes and the cruel ways of boys stacked against her
I will sure as hell had some major epiphany
If I am ever (stupid) blessed enough to have a daughter
I want every moment with her to be a grand realization of my life
This is who I am
This moment is what I was made for
Whether it’s picking her up after a scraped knee
Advising her that Alphie only hit her because he likes her
Or telling her that no, leggings are not pants
She would be the reason I went through all of this
The reason I got my heart broken by the world over and over again
So that it could complete me
I wanted a daughter named Epiphany
Nicknamed Eppie
“Like an EpiPen?” Fluffy (Patrick before I went about nicknaming) questioned
“No, not like an Epinephrine auto injector at all.”
Maybe naming isn't my forte
I wanted a daughter named Epitome
Because a name is more than a word
A name is a decision
I would make it clear that she was loved
She would be the embodiment of every hope dream and wish I ever had
Just by breathing each day
I wanted my whole life to be leading up to the day I met her
If I was ever going to give a new life
She would be everything
The epitome of my entire life
I wanted a daughter named Epitome
Nicknamed Eppie
Laci (aka Frida) whose nickname could be interchangable with that of a stripper
Laughed
And decided that 'Emily' would be just fine for any daughter of mine
Sep 17, 2013
Sep 17, 2013 at 1:17 AM UTC
Carcinogenic gasps
between photogenic thighs
create esoteric muscle movement
that moves me inside.
Your parents are therapists,
and mine choose not to be alive;
the words they say
don't work for moments we hide.
Jesus Christ before the sunset rust,
if I'm so alive
then why do I lust
absence.
There's a place
where I'd like to drown
every Saturday.
The water's warm
and thick in my lungs
and I'm no longer afraid.
Colliding with epinephrine,
your neck thrusts forward;
you kiss the steering wheel.
"Do you know
how much
you mean to me?"
Your eyes meet mine
before disappearing in the glass mist.
I love you.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 3:16 AM UTC
Constantly searching for serotonin. Because norepinephrine won't let me breathe. Dopamine, you're my dream. Epinephrine you stagger me.
Mar 15, 2016
Mar 15, 2016 at 11:32 AM UTC
oxytocin serotonin rhythm rhythmatic
a dopamine drip like a metronome tick
endorphins crash like waves
~ rest ~
epinephrine more like norepinephrine
neuropeptides simmer down &
monoamines die like flies
Apr 24, 2015
Apr 24, 2015 at 5:30 AM UTC
The abomination that is the human mind
twists and turns, spews and shouts
as worms in filth
or words on paper
crawling and consuming
evolving and discharging
imbibing knowledge and purging perception
letters illustrate products of chemical reactions
neurotransmitters conspire with memory and ideology
excreting dopamine and epinephrine by the milliliters
no one can read what is safe
no one is safe from what they read
poetry is a bowel movement of the mind….
Feb 20, 2012
Feb 20, 2012 at 8:50 PM UTC
1)
Here in the dark where rules don't exist
Gravity slips my wrist to your hips
And your kiss like Soma lay burned on my lips
Sudden a slight, subtle physical gesture
So foreign to think of it - only conjecture
Alluring, your posture bent into mine first
2)
Unable to think, unable to breathe
Unable to reason rational reasons for such indulgence
So known was he to penitence
So unknown was this dream
And that, it was a dream
Cortisol surging, testosterone flowing, epinephrine...surely would split his mind at the seam, and end this cruel romantic dream
3)
Soma to touch her
Soma to feel her
Nothing to know, and none left to sow
Soma to see her
Soma to hear her
When won't it last? When will it go?
Soma to think
Soma to dream
Forever unknowing
Forever I'll be
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 10:18 PM UTC
I have been craving that which I know will make me sick.
Already,
The mere thought has my stomach roiling,
Insides twisting in displeasure,
Heart pounding out its discomfort,
Head aching in protest;
My fever keeps climbing
But I can't take a hint,
For it seems there's no proper immune response
For desire,
No thorough little antibodies to drive the thought away,
Just a full body reaction,
A rebellion of the senses,
Near anaphylaxis;
It would seem that I'm allergic to you.
But Benadryl and epinephrine are of no use to me
Since it's this wanting that's the problem,
Stumbling over myself just to see you smile,
All the while tying my intestines into impossible knots.
I know that you're no good for me,
But like a dizzy, desperate ******
I can't cut myself off,
Can't force myself to stop chasing you
Though you cause my airways to constrict.
Feb 1, 2011
Feb 1, 2011 at 6:49 PM UTC
I wanted to stay,
But I wouldn’t let me
With dawning on the dark,
It lay there fully heaving
With searing conic splinters
Of headlight in its back,
We left it on the road
Tossed in epinephrine,
Guilty of some throttle-rush
We had macerated in the night
Some brood of Nature’s brush
So, I sped to Edgerton
As fast as our time was
You'll say, “He never cared.”
I’m sad I’ve lost your name
No phonebook would amend
I should have just slowed down
Feb 18, 2013
Feb 18, 2013 at 11:24 PM UTC
Today I told a doctor that time heals all wounds
he said no that’s aspirin
and if you have have allergies
you’ll need epinephrine
Today I told a priest that time heals all wounds
he said no that’s God
also prayer and hope wouldn’t hurt
if I was no fraud
Today I told a psychic that time heals all wounds
he said to get a reading and I’d be fine
and he’d throw in a magic ball
for only $9.99!
Today I told myself that time heals all wounds
as I looked in the mirror staring my body down
It better I whispered
because in this pain I soon will drown
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 1:14 AM UTC
Pleasant shades of pink and purple flowing through my conscious mind today.
I love my puppy and the snow and my heart and my brain.
I love sharing Oxytocin, the green on the ground and burnt sienna in the eyes...
I miss mercury and his lavender 9.
I miss my candy and my flowers, tea tree and the excessive amount of Epinephrine that used to sway in my stomach.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 11:19 PM UTC
This current state of being,
A byproduct of my upbringing,
To a shred of sanity I'm clinging.
I'm condemned, I am ******
It's not like this was planned.
Those pesky chemicals are a torrential rain,
Carried 'round by cerebrospinal fluid in the brain,
Are unbalanced, unregulated. I am agitated.
Emotions now unchained.
The feelings I suppressed
Now a hysterical, pathetic, crying mess
This silent monster is cunning and bold
Has defiantly stepped over my mental threshold
The more I try to ignore
The more intense the outpour
The heart drops into the stomach,
Unpleasant pulsating in my ear canal
I tremble uncontrollably
I obsess over thoughts until they nauseate me
Down a rabbit hole I'm going
Due to insufficient dopamine and serotonin
The ideas of inadequacy and failure are growing
As logical a girl I am
To these irrational thoughts I am ******
I attempt to talk myself out of it
But my reasoning just won't fit
No matter how hard I try
I cannot find a reason why...
At this point my heart is racing
From the epinephrine rush, I am pacing
Back and forth across the floor
In and out the bedroom door
You have no idea how happy I'd be
To have a life of "normalcy"
No matter how much I plead and plead
This quiet monster won't take its leave
At my wit's end, my sanity's gone,
I'm all out of my Buproprion.
Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 2:56 PM UTC
She's nuts, and I keep trying to remind you that you're allergic.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 10:32 PM UTC