"fructose" poems
GMO foods punch holes in cells
permeate the gut, creating gaps in guts
Leading to food floating in bloodstreams, rivers of pain
Food allergies, ulcers, IBS .... these are the milder troubles
I won't speak of IBD, Cancer and Crohns disease
Babies born now allergic to foods, children allergic more than ever
They said, though the BT injected crops killed bugs, bursting their bellies
that they were still safe for humans....They were wrong!
Now these GMO crops are causing a myriad of gastro problems in people!
Food crops are now Roundup ready in the
Killing Fields.
Videos to watch:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=FS72J9bDvPM&feature;=relmfu
www.youtube.com/watch?v=6D3TUk-XX1o&feature;=relmfu
TOP FOODS TO AVOID (unless labeled organic)
Corn
Soy
Potatoes
Canola, Cottonseed Oils
Sugar, fructose, corn syrup
Dairy - except organic
Tomatoes - except organic
Papaya/Hawaiian
Helpful links:
www.naturalnews.com/035734_GMOs_foods_dangers.html
http://truefoodnow.org/
Aug 24, 2012
Aug 24, 2012 at 10:39 PM UTC
Sugar strikes us down
You see everyone will have so many spoonfuls of sugar in
Certain foods and drinks
Like Coke and donuts and tomato and BBQ sauce
And Mountain Dew is definately not dew of the mountains it has caffeine and sugar in it
And the brain says have sugar cause it gives us energy well it is just fake energy
I used to drink a big bottle of Coke doing a poetry concert on YouTube and despite I might have felt happy if was just fake happy
I like the colours of pizza and Coke and hamburgers and loliies and other soft drinks but the colours mean nothing
I developed obesity
Because the sugar in my diet was too much
I ate a big rolly poly cake
And every Easter I like the big chocolate bunny
In 2013 I was running to burn all the sugar but I ate more sugar to build up my weight when or if I stopped running
I didn't really feel good great
At the poetry Slam sure I read my poem and was cheered off the stage but I felt very itchy and tired and yes everyone liked me and they thought I was cool but I had cracked feet and tinnea on my feet and now I have exthma on my legs I was very unhealthy
My brain was telling me I need sugar it gives me energy and Coke adds life to your day
Well that is a bunch of crap
Especially when aborigines eat healthy food can give on to sucrose and fructose but then again I did and I got obesity
I have just made a choice to start working with a personal trainer who told me to watch a show called that sugar film teaching me that sugar can really dominate your life in foods you will never think had it but junk food is bad
I could relate to one boy who wanted to get dentures after having very unhealthy teeth
But the pain of the dentist drill
Forced him to rethink his decision still wanting to have soft drink
Even the party drink in alcohol would be bad for you because they can have sugar as well and you can party with water which might be better and you can also have a berry which makes things sweeter like a lemon and a chilli and apple cider vinegar
But sugar is in that berry
You can bet your ****** oath
You see sugar is the big bad wolf of the diet world
Oct 19, 2017
Oct 19, 2017 at 2:45 AM UTC
Today, I sent out at least another 10 advertisements of myself. It’s not fair. These potential employee seeking companies show me at least a thousand ads boasting about themselves, but I only got the time to send out a fraction of their words, and it’s somehow bad taste to show off my handsomeness. No pictures at all, just boring words, competing against the tacky hordes of plastic signs, overt lies, and labeled every things. I don’t even get any screen time, and if I could even afford it, they’d think I over did it. So I can’t use any ****** tricks to show my fluency in PR devilry? Y’all hypocrites.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 8:05 PM UTC
The
weight of the world sitting dumbly on
those fructose eyelids.
They, in turn. melt into the mummified
morning.
laying in the corner forever like a
favorite-shirt
ruined in the wash.
Every other stripe on you is stained pink
from
some cheap volunteer tee that ****** up
The whole load.
Each ray from the blinds
Takes some life away.
Searing past you- into the floorboards
with
quiet fury.
Time passes_
It shoves us down into compact spaces.
(but)
I thought of you
In a shoplifter's prayer.
(There is something left that evaporates out in the form of you)
I imagined you
Still.
But growing
Like
Crystal salts
Crusting up the pores of the earth.
Vapors fumbling upwards to rehydrate
My dry fingers_
We make decisions . that stick around.
We break off blisters. Rip little things that hang off our lips.
We take breaks before we need them.
Take too long to say
**** this.
Thoughtlessness.
*Somewhere out there, they are screaming loud.
Somebody either cares or
Doesn't.*
The marks on the carpet know better than
us
How to last forever
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 11:59 PM UTC
Rancor,
Swashbuckling with a sawtooth grin and sacrilegious shouts, selcouth with an unsound mind, the commonness of uniqueness, the commonness of opinionated onions cutting their teeth on life and crying, again, and ready to saw off the limbs of the opposition out of revenge!
Rancor, relax, you're not a Twitter matador, I wish you were because I’d love to watch the show.
We cuddle with exotic nylon fibers and squeal about our weight and status and how someone insulted us and how terrible it is to be alive while sipping on easily accessibly high fructose corn syrup! Life has never been this sweet, but I guess we’re getting sick of honey.
I complain about the complaints, I am the anti-complaining complaint club president.
I am a writer, an iPhone thumb tapper.
Hear me
These mental gymnastics will somersault and summerset you right, child,
Don’t listen to Rancor,
That man’ll grab your gaze and stir your attention into a cocktail while winking at you from behind the bar
he’ll leave your brain a little woozy from a life that used to be sweet until you left it out in the sun a few years too long,
I wonder if some of the dead watch us from the corners of our bedroom or the trees along the freeway, waiting for greatness to unfurl.
I’ll bet they do and I’ll bet you’re a glitch, I’ll bet a little piece of another galaxy hit you in the head and made your finger twitch.
How many hot car hours have been spent in a parking lot,
the skin dries, the phone dies,
the spirit once lifted towards the outlines of the mountain peak now seeks memes, transcendent in their own right.
May 12, 2022
May 12, 2022 at 1:54 AM UTC
Last night, whilst I was sleeping,
my dreams were turned into
bubble gum rivers
cascading from my mind in
fruit winder waves, infecting
my body with
artificial fructose and
awakening my reverie
with a sweet
burning desire to
Go!
Do!
Live!
So I follow my instructions
and hop on this candy-covered
illusion and travel,
to a place where sugar can
sprout from my fingers and a
thick toffee sauce
can cloud my brain so I can't
hear the screams of paranoia
that come with
all beauty, and I delude
myself into thinking that
this is life.
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 12:31 PM UTC
I grab a cart handle and smirk, I have a cold this time
One less thing to worry about.
The wheel squeaks and pulls.
One more thing to worry about.
Shooters of wine greet and then mock
At my lack of age.
I turn down ails like
The pages of a well worn book
A no longer interesting text
On how to troubleshoot Windows 95.
Pages filled of colors and high fructose corn sugar
White bread and corn tortillas.
Clothing. Seems already dropping from the hangers.
Workers. No longer holding their heads up.
But wander the ails as I do.
I see the look of a job
Sat on too long and has staled
I see milk.
Organic milk.
And yogurt nearby.
Hot pockets.
Organic hot pockets.
Organic chips.
Bacon ranch organic chips.
It is all in the branding.
Less heat and more thought control is needed
For the American public than the average feed lot stock.
At last what I need is found.
And I can leave before I drown
In over-consumption .
Then back into the cold of February.
And into my van.
I cut someone off as I sped away.
Apr 5, 2013
Apr 5, 2013 at 10:12 PM UTC
Add Abilify to your Pristiq
and if you don’t feel better
in a few days
we’ll add 150 milligrams of Welbutrin
and if you don’t feel better
in a few days
we’ll double that
but if Abiliify puts fat on you
like some of the corticosteroids
we’ll replace it with Saphris
and hope that doesn’t upset your stomach
and if you don’t feel better
in a few days
we’ll cut out caffeine and nicotine
and if you don’t feel better
in a few days
we’ll cut out high fructose corn syrup
and if you don’t feel better
in a few days
we’ll stop sodas and candy
and if you don’t feel better
in a few days
we’ll do an fMRI of your brain
and by then you will be so tired
of chasing happiness
that you will just sit down on the couch
and play with your cat
who knows better than you
Apr 9, 2012
Apr 9, 2012 at 9:29 AM UTC
The man who wants
To be left alone,
Bringing the hatred to
The forefront
The man grumpy and
Grouchy in a beer soaked
T-shirt
Waiting on the next
Delivery of angst
Writing his bad words
Pretentious in his outlook
Driven in his petulance
Greedy and needy
The man, ancient and aging
Fattening on the high fructose
Diet of beer and pastries
Keeping it all in and sharing nothing
But the fabrication
Never lives up to the hype
So the man crawls into his sack
Sleeping the day away,
Awaiting another night of tv,
Jerking off and sugary treats
Nov 9, 2011
Nov 9, 2011 at 12:43 AM UTC
Brain root receptors taken hold
electrically charged cannadis synapsis
I smoked with jay, **** followed and road
it went so deep, straight to the core
back to when I couldnt see any more
Too many revolutions in my head
11,000 or so, with many more to go
pHARMicutIcals they ******* HARM U man
Fructose, Aspartame, Floride stain
the weather man is ******* with our brains
Just flush the **** straight down the drain
***** Leaves a resin stain
on the synapsis of the brain
Lubricated, Nurished
with no neurological pain
Dec 18, 2011
Dec 18, 2011 at 6:13 PM UTC
I have hope for the little black boy and girl.
These Mars to universe-colored,
golden-eyed children of the sun.
Some of them sprout up
out of cracked earth and concrete.
Their root-minded growth being spurred on
by the nourishment of the sewers.
These are tiny black flowers
pushing out their pistils like tongues,
and licking the unsanitized water
like nectar.
They
take everything you throw away.
Watch them make tree houses out of
trash cans, and spaceships
out of discarded cardboard boxes
that smell like beer, and *****
and sweat.
The sprinklers are on
and they slide down a hill
covered by a plastic sheet
the size of a whale's tongue.
Their smiles
open wide like zippers,
and their teeth are coconut flesh.
The milk of their laugh contains enough calcium
to mine happiness
out of overly-injected fructose bones.
When they tug at your pants
and ask you questions,
they just want to know
where the moon came from,
and how to get there.
Feb 18, 2012
Feb 18, 2012 at 1:00 PM UTC
The soap dish behaves as though
she has cancer
Her openly unfashionable drug habit
has gifted her with eleven other
life threatening illnesses
Tobacco has been outlawed
Finally we become a society of progress
Disease remains...
fittingly for a diva
It was a rough go for a while
but, she's better now
Waiting for the day, that they outlaw
high fructose corn syrup
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 9:33 AM UTC
You may think you have no shadow.
But I see it dancing behind you.
I can't see it's face,
but I'm sure that it's smiling.
But it's no smile of fructose.
Just of bile and scorn overdose.
With topography riding limbs.
In seamless synchronisation
with yourself.
I hear it whisper and hiss,
with sounds of ****** bliss;
At each unseen bruise inflicted.
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 9:57 PM UTC
Yeah you facebook friended me and you
Tend to like my posts and I don't mean
You actually like them but when the display tells me you like them,
When I see that red number over above that blue planet in the corner
I feel it in my guts, in my *****
Like you Like Like me
Yeah but all that stuff's twisted its way into our consciousness like
Jagged metal and I won't stop
Beating my own brains over the wreckage
Because it feels so good in that
High-fructose, instant ****** kind of way.
But there's my fantasy self, collecting herbs in the garden
He never accomplished anything and he's
Getting thinner and more transparent every day
But from the bathroom window I keep ************ him into cruel, tortured, frightened existence.
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 5:42 PM UTC
high fructose corn syrup and garlic salt
burn my throat
(i have made a habit of eating ice cream out of the tub after ten pm)
and i kick myself in the shins
everytime i think about you
and smile.
i'm so ****** at you
for being the one person that i can't stand to be away from.
why are you always leaving me
and why am i always happy when you come back?
i won't be your ******* science experiment
anymore
i'm sorry.
i didn't mean that
Aug 7, 2011
Aug 7, 2011 at 8:34 PM UTC
When I was young i never drank coffee I worried about my health. Coffee was bitter, and I needed to take care of myself for you. But after you left me high and dry, I lived off of coffee and late night drives to the cemetery. I wrote till my fingers bled. For you. I find inspiration in the bitter taste of coffee because I realize now I am only safe in the bitterness of coffee, in the bitterness of myself. I used to make myself eat at least three times a day, and drink lots of water. I stopped doing that once I tasted the lies you fed me. I eat when I'm hungry now, and I drink coffee and high fructose drinks. I've lost weight and I hate standing up. I won't say this is all your fault, because that would be a villainous lie. The truth is that you forced me to want to live with myself and now that you're gone I can't live right.
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 12:14 PM UTC
By Arcassin Burn
Welcome to the year of the end,
you better look for better sayings when use a new pen,
see all your family before its too late for friends,
walk to all your enemies and make a mends,
how the hell do you ever get the message if it won't send?
make your mark on the earth before it really does end,
you could ignore my meta mind here,
all in me.
third eye not even open but I'm still woke,
stupid still drinking fructose in their coke,
but who am I to be smart like i have two lab coats and,
when i am a lab rat like the rest of ya'll without a poll,
to decide and vote where the universe might take us,
everyone deserves a purpose , the vultures take and leave us,
so while I sit and think how life could be different in mind,
all you human beings are still blind,
the light is all in me.
©abpoetry2020
Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 12:23 PM UTC
As with any cloying flavor,
It would seem you've had your fill.
Sugar sweetness had its way
but now you spit the swill.
You took all that I had to give,
You barely stopped to chew.
Our cake sat atop a pedestal
Left to stale
One of the few.
Now we're left with crumbs on bedsheets
And cavities of the heart.
A sweettooth brought us together
But hunger tore us apart.
Sep 12, 2014
Sep 12, 2014 at 6:09 PM UTC
Don't you find Christmas a little askew in its purpose?
We remember a man who, born on this day, walked the Earth some two thousand years ago
By burning pockets with gift giving,
Decorating a door frame with a $70 wreath which will die in two weeks,
Stuffing our faces with high fructose desserts and fat filled ham
Competing for the brightest tree (also going to die in two weeks) and the loudest outside decorations
Did we forget the homeless man on the corner who can't even buy a sock?
Who would give anything for that one sock, perhaps even another sock
Why is Christmas a competition
What happened to Cindy Lou Who, who asked where Christmas was and why she couldn't find it
I seem to think that Christmas should be much the same as Thanksgiving,
But I am the only one,
As we continue to spend thousands of dollars each year's end
And soil what God intended originally for these twenty four hours
Maybe, just maybe,
Spend a little less ******* money on your family,
And spend a little more time with them
It's all that homeless man could ask for,
Besides that sock
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 5:50 PM UTC
afternoon poo cramp brings a wave of nausea
sweat coats my back causing
the polyester blend to stick to my skin
unsightly wrinkles and folds follow
my belly bulge’s smooth contours
highlighted –
trying to adjust my ball cap
in a pointless effort hinging on the idea
that wiping the sweat from my brow
will alleviate six feet five inches
of gross wet mass;
this of course is fruitless and all I get
is a wet spot on the bicep of my shirt—
gurgling belly as I try to digest poison Taco Bell
and high fructose soda-pop
like I am still a teen
trapped in a 40 year old frame…
one day I will give up the trash
eat a bit better
and feel loads different,
until then, this will occasionally return
and be my revolving lunch fate –
Aug 27, 2015
Aug 27, 2015 at 1:40 PM UTC
On drooping branch
sugar swelled beneath my flesh,
iron (III) oxide coat shined
under caresses of springtime rain.
You bit through my skin,
teeth grazing tender core,
juice seeping through relentless jaw
and my coat shined
under caresses of internal rain.
Aug 21, 2013
Aug 21, 2013 at 2:16 PM UTC
The creepy Italian guy
stares at us under his
bushy, too close together eyebrows
and he yells at us when we get free refills,
“You are costing me a fortune!”
but we don’t care what he says
because the soda machine
is right there
waiting for us to click in our cup
and nourish ourselves on the sweet,
high fructose corn syrup of youth
and the astonishment when the
two plates of fries comes,
one golden one curly—
and our napkin of ketchup wedged between—
two different types of potatoes
for two very different types of people
and yet, best of friends.
Connected companions at heart,
drilled in by the constant company
in childhood.
and yet, beautiful,
because without my best friend
no aspect of life could be the same
infinite time we have to spend
sauntering around in our woods,
our home:
the log cabin stretch of mount laurel
the not-so-busy shopping center
holding the Pizza King
where we would sit in a booth
long after our food was gone;
for in youth, there are
infinite things to say
and we are both now almost fully grown,
you have your high school diploma
and you will be off in the fall
for the big city,
and I’ll be stuck in a small town
full of small minded people,
feeling small while you
make a name for yourself
in the big “real” world
but no matter where we both go
we will look back
and remember all the times
we shared together—
good and bad,
family and friends,
home cooked meals and
long stays in the little pizza place
across the street
from our youth
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 5:35 PM UTC
Change for the better comes hard for most of us so we go the easy and reckless ways we’ve been taught…
Processed to pleasure our favorite foods, no regulations and absolutely no safety rules..
Modified cornstarch, mono dextrin and sugar affects us like ******* Another snack, another drink, I like my toxins plain, indeed I spend my food stamps on Coca-Cola and sugary things!
Bushels and bushels of fruits fortified with fructose! Lactose is is making us fat, and now our hearts have extra plaque.
There’s nothing safe on the shelfs at our stores, smell those baked goods near the front door.
Thank goodness, we have insulin to remove the sugar from our blood… There’s no need to resist the seed oil sludge. Oh yes and secondary moments that last too long, waste no time trying to get strong. I’ll have another ******* and a box of those delicious Dingdongs!
Sep 20, 2025
Sep 20, 2025 at 8:36 AM UTC