"inflammation" poems
****** affliction of a lack of affection companion
Hand and hand strolling greater than syrupy plunging
and even sometimes buddy shrugging over wooden noisemakers
We whistle with their metal strings
and through the pasta soft ones in our throats
but no nest colored mares seem to hear
our flamboyant feather calls for future fondling
So I scribe slight implied short letters
invites to drink joints and nature jaunts
All too well thought out
hoping your advanced technology cannot trace
the time I spent to type
The overanalysis of our psych: her and I’s
wondering why she doesn’t have an inkling
for a cute fall date where we attempt to bake apple pies
It’s all too contrived, I know
I’ll strive for delusion
Accept a useful interpretation for our chemical inflammation
and let sparks pass it by
Like itsy bitsy flies laying eggs in a wound
for stagnant water maggots
They’ll eat away the thought well
where all my cranial zaps seem to dwell.
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:00 PM UTC
Please forgive my hesitation
at instigation of flirtation.
Did I ensure my elimination?
My romantic assassination?
I'll gladly partake in any placation,
for any chance of indoctrination
to the centralization of your concentration.
An operation of admiration.
A correlation of inflammation.
Your gravitation brings animation,
exclamation and elongation.
My specialization is duration.
Not to hint at a connotation,
but I feel a certain **********
by an obligation to a certain destination
where your presentation gives me restoration.
Petrification?
Total mind evacuation?
Would clarification bring fascination?
Stimulation!
Salivation!
Gratification!
Insinuation of fornication?
A simple salutation to syncopation.
Would a single bright carnation
be enough of a motivation,
for a two way relocation?
Would poetic recitation
be sufficient lubrication
for collaboration?
A consolidation?
Or an exacerbation of isolation?
Please hold no reservation,
I've only got one aspiration.
To achieve a higher elevation;
by means of inhalation,
or a certain recreation
involving a bit of perspiration
along with physical communication.
Does this seem such a bad situation?
Or are you ready for pure elation?
Feb 18, 2010
Feb 18, 2010 at 12:56 PM UTC
Clouds and pressure, gray skies blowing
Lightning stabs electric flowing
Thunder bursts like a heavy drum
Ears are hurting from the thrumb
My visions clouding turning black
Hate and anger, rage attack
Shouting screaming arms unstilled
Fury flows and hope is killed
Hate......so much disdain, loathing, detestation
Pain burns, an inflammation
It creeps and crawls beneath my skin
An evil thing that dwells within
Horrid gross it swells and swims
Extending into all my limbs
I cannot stop this terrible storm
And when I see your beauty form
It slows and stalls and loses heat
Then it dies but not complete
Something hidden, always there
This evil presence in my lair
May 6, 2010
May 6, 2010 at 12:45 AM UTC
*retardation, inflammation, all these kids gettin shot up, diabetes nation. earthquake hits, tsunamis rip, solar flare sun, getting our magnetic polar shift on.
been around much to long to believe all the ******** they are trying to run a country on, think it's about time we awaken, come together and form a new united nations.
grew up in an age where blowin **** up made the front page, trading tourism for terrorism, gorilla warfare versus patriotic heroism.
**** the news, i been hit the with the love struck blues, instead spend my time promoting free energy, "Nikola Tesla's technology abolishes slavery"... Last call to end the fed, freedom for eternity; did you hear Britney Spears shaved her head?*
Apr 27, 2012
Apr 27, 2012 at 5:29 AM UTC
The apartment hasn’t been cleaned for so long and has housed a depressive in it for the same length of time so that there is a glaze of slime-dirt on the floor, made of dried coffee, hot chocolate, maybe some **** or some spillage from a tube of steroid cream to treat an inflammation that never really goes. The rate of ooze changes?. Clean textiles are piled up on the floor, never having been folded, and mix here and there with ***** practical fatpants that make me look like a geologist and white-white cotton blankets that can be washed on HOT with lots of bleach that I purloined from some mentalhealthfacility. The inbox is full of—is bristling with—remonstrances from Programs for the Nondoer—you haven’t filed, haven’t turnstiled, haven’t had your hologram chip assessed by central CENTRAL intelligence, what is wrong with you. Upon stepping outside there is a beat during which I think maybe somewonder might swirl and buoy but no, just wethumid and ***** sidewalks cruddy and Haitians and quasi-Haitians muttering “taxitaxitaxi” in front of their Gypsy conveyances with their dubious certifications. I should go for a ride in one, a dubious passenger for a dubious palanquin. I tried the library but it was too hot and decrepit and too filled with Books For African-Americans, which always ****** me off; are only African-Americans going to read Wright or Douglass or Brooks? Everyone is overrated, anyway, movies and theater and the moribund beat of commerce, and as the dangerous autos pass, sometimes not running you over, you can see morechange in the pockets of the shareholders of BeePee and Iacocca Coach-Wirx. Any friendliness exhibited seems to contain an underovertone of You’re Not Included Whiteboy White ****** Ghost ***** all archaic names I’ve been almost astounded to be called usually while balancing on tiptoe on some lurching, roaring dieselbus, grinding past off-off-off brand groceries that do a dubious business. While making my police report I wink at a sevenyearold boy and I get a lustrous wink back butalas this is not enough to beat back those slurrycolored brainfazes.
May 8, 2013
May 8, 2013 at 2:09 PM UTC
My hands are shaking
My heart is racing
My feet are pacing
They think I'm faking
My bones turn to stone
It's all I've ever known
My muscles atrophy
Pain got the best of me
It's invisible and deceitful
Failures made me cynical
Solutions are only temporary
This body of mine is the enemy
Inflammation spreads like wildfire
I'm tired of being so tired
Nothing stops the torture, but
I'm fighting like a soldier
My body rebels
It is a prison cell
Trapped in my own hell
Gunshots fire inside
I really have tried
Oct 19, 2018
Oct 19, 2018 at 3:30 PM UTC
When I was young,
About three years of age,
I was made to stay at creche,
When my parents were away at work.
I used to see those yellow wasps glide,
Curious I used to look at them,
Elder people used to warn,
Warn me of their sting.
But I was still curious,
Curiosity subsided my fear,
Hard to grasp the idea of pains,
I just wanted to grab the yellow wasps.
And as I remember a curious younger myself,
I was by the carpet bed of marigold at creche,
There wandered a golden wasp on a marigold,
I wanted to hold that puny wasp in my hands,
Unaware of its sting I caught it out of curiosity,
The next thing I faintly remember is its sting..!
The painful sting lingered for the followup time,
The inflammation on my thumb followed it,
And I caught fever as well as the fear,
Instilled was the fear like a dread,
I used to remain fearful till ages.
The fear was vanquished not long later than it,
It stayed there in the crevices of my mind,
It was until I was bitten by several bees,
Once it was me and Rishabh my chum,
We had just stepped out of the school,
Someone had disrupted a honeycomb,
Angry bees were stinging us there then,
The painful panic inside was totally silent,
We managed to get to the bike and escaped.
I took anti-allergic tablets for two days,
Even Rishabh took the same medicines,
But I recovered soon with an experience,
Seemed to have worked better with my body,
Thanks to my compatibility with the medicines,
Rishabh caught fever with his face swollen for 2 weeks.
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 3:05 AM UTC
Another Sunday, time to recover
From all the drugs, my only lover
Take my B vitamins to start the circulation
With some fish oils to reduce inflammation
Most importantly, are my amino acids
Because of that I've been flushed
So now I replenish these masses
The benzos are the only drugs that get touched
So addicted to them, so I know it's a must
If a doctor read this, he'd understand my logic
But if a doctor read this, he'd command me to stop it
As I continue my day with my normal acting mind
I realize I'm a slave to drugs, all the time
But I'm financially flourished
The whole family I nourish
And after reading these poems, I feel some people get jealous
Who would follow me? They know my soul I had sold it
I always follow back, I'm not a bad guy
Now sit on top of that, I'm not living a lie
I could really care less about it
It's just an alias, and a therapeutic outlet
Just another Sunday
Glad you read about it
Aug 3, 2014
Aug 3, 2014 at 1:28 PM UTC
Please don't get me wrong.
I appreciate what you are trying to do,
but you don't send salt and pepper to a starving nation.
I've been dealing with assault of the mind
and inflammation of the soul
in a way no whole-wheat diet or
heartburn medication could ever fix.
I've got all these little tips
and all these little tricks
for how to fold anger up like an origami crane
until it looks somewhat like a punchline.
The flaw in the design of this art
is that no matter how many were made
they couldn't cure Sadako's leukemia.
Perhaps it's an ongoing theme in my work
to shirk all these lies I've been told.
To mold the past into a weapon
to harpoon the future with like a humpback whale.
But I've watched razors sail
across the surface of my skin like a hundred tiny boats
and while I'm making my way in this sink-or-float Earth,
I still have the spirituality
to make a penny feel like more than what it's worth.
I can't make your life having meaning.
I can't give you the feeling you get
on that 999th paper crane,
but I spend my whole life trying to catch
thunder in a wine bottle.
It's just a noise,
and it exists only ringing in the ears
of frightened children
and bringing the tears of overjoyed children
in Africa.
Aug 27, 2014
Aug 27, 2014 at 7:30 PM UTC
It’s not much, I mean, but
uh, nothing, sorry, man I got butterfingers
slippery as my tongue, here
did you drop something, are you sure?
cause my thump-thumping heart dropped
so hard to the floor when it knew you were near
that it bounced right back up
right where it goes, then straight out my crown chakra,
only to dissipate and erupt
into Truth
the literal and the metaphorical
allegorical nebulas that resonate in full high-definition colour the way
all Nine symphonies played simultaneously
would look
sedimentary, like a cheesecake
when I first saw you, something
shifted in my horoscope with the same scope and scale
of a modern Greek myth – Prometheus rising, fire
in the eyes of one woman, that’s all
all Aphrodite could gather up—fix it to the mainstay, Odysseus
let’s get to it, in siren seas, eating weeds to survive
if there’s nothing left when Cthulu
comes alive, I hope at least
I’ll get to talk to you at a party
like, once, where we’ll mix some more
mythologies
Once Inana birthed the world, and Spider Woman showed her how
I could show you how Saraswati
makes music, and old Bacchus stays on his feet
Care to play my Isis? If that makes me Osiris
then drown me, chop me up. Throw my body
to Mr. Lucifer; the Morrigan will come to inspect your ****
and finding it satisfactory
will whisk you away somewhere better
How’s that last part sound to you, eh?
there’s not much left to waste in the techno age
of “nothing in moderation,” with all our
degradation,
defamation,
discrimination,
and mild inflammation caused by
nonspecific anxiety medications
in our nation of constant false elation,
so
my point is time
the one thing we got left to waste
is time, and I’m a dedicated pacifist, but
I wouldn’t mind killing
some of that, with you
Let’s blow this pop stand
and go hunting.
Mar 23, 2013
Mar 23, 2013 at 12:52 AM UTC
cervical cancer
ovarian cyst
open your mouth
here's my fist
stomach ulcer
an inflammation disease
got pneumonia
from just a sneeze
inflamed pelvis
stomach cancer
shut the **** up
you don't know the answer
heart attack
blood clots
watch me as
my insides rot
my brain thinks
I've had every disease
but its funny
i've never had any of these
Dec 18, 2010
Dec 18, 2010 at 7:02 PM UTC
I don't remember being well anymore,
I don't remember what a peaceful day feels like,
I don't remember when the physical pain wasn't here
If I hadn't already been crazy the pain would have driven me there...
Dropped me off, threw my stuff out, left like a bat out of hell and never looked back.
But I was already on my way when the pain started.
It just made the walk harder.
There is a lot i don't remember actually .
Childhood stuff I should.
It hurts my moms feelings, so I play along about 'that one time' and all my great memories.
She usually knows I'm lieing ,
She pretends not to notice
And I smile and nod, pretending to remember.
It is a Symptom of the diseases,
The forgetfulness, the blankness.
Part brain fog, slow synapse, brain changes from great stress and brain inflammation,
But also part Defense mechanism.
There are whole years gone...blocked out
I don't remember being well anymore,
I can't remember the name for simple words most of the time,
And I don't remember peace but I still pray for it.
Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 10:36 PM UTC
Heavy Minded -
Roller Coaster.
Eyes Closed ****** Nose,
Heart Open - Levitation.
Procrastination - Imagination, Heart Racing -
Life Changes. Rearranges - Destination,
Emotional - Inflammation. Loves' Amazement - Captivating,
Excitement - Anticipation. New Beginning - Fading Past, Anxious Feeling -
Worlds Crash. Whiplash - Meld, Blend, Comprehend - Understanding, Learning, Bend.
Jan 8, 2012
Jan 8, 2012 at 2:25 PM UTC
I fear the bass and treble.
The Stuka's nasal voice ringing out.
The tremulous earth beneath two treads.
The planet itself was set to tremble.
I fear the detonation.
A whistle in the darkness.
Harmonizing bass and treble.
Imminent inflammation.
I fear the bass and treble.
May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 4:51 PM UTC
I was born a medical debacle.
Bowel movements consistently irritable,
Inflammation causing an abundance of distress,
Have my fears of leaving the house to ******
Help me as my insides are bursting in pain.
I’d rather have my head repeatedly slammed in car door.
Scenarios created within my own psyche,
I am left with great despair for my future as a man.
Failing to do so little as sitting in a classroom,
With unfamiliar eyes that could easily be drawn to me,
I hear a gurgling sound coming from my intestines,
And I am stranded on an island of panic.
Unable to leave the room,
As the instructor ceases trips to the bathroom,
I’m crying on the inside in agony,
And my colon is screaming traumatically.
The mental tormenting has gone seventeen years too long,
With this ailment I have yet to rid myself of.
I am a slave to this known syndrome,
As many people are of this day,
And I have genetics to be thankful for of this disease,
That is literally and figuratively,
eating me up inside.
Sep 24, 2016
Sep 24, 2016 at 4:53 PM UTC
Unless it is chronic,
Inflammation does not last.
Be humble.
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 3:56 PM UTC
Lady, will you join me with a cigarette?
Will you share a kiss?
Will you hold my hand ?
And listen to my echoing abyss
Will you touch me here and there?
And have a quick stare
Oh wont you please braid my hair?
Will you have a sweet conversation?
With out your heart bursting in inflammation?
Will you laugh and sigh with me?
over a cup of jasmine tea
Or maybe some coffee?
Will you, lady?
-Arizona
Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 8:39 AM UTC
We know the importance of sleep for our health and appearance. But when it comes to getting at least eight hours of quality sleep, this is easier said than done. You could be tempted to watch that late night movie, or read one last chapter in that book.
For many of us, the goal of sleeping at 9 or 10pm may appear elusive. Many sleep at a decent hour but suffer from bouts of insomnia.
It pays to learn how to sleep. Ever wondered why babies and children have such beautiful skin? Research shows skin cell regeneration doubles at night and peaks between 11pm and 4am. Sleep deprivation leads to inflammation and oxidative stress which contributes to aging.
Here are some tips on how to sleep better:
1. Control your exposure to light
To maintain a good sleep-wake cycle, expose yourself to natural light during the day, and complete darkness when you go to sleep. If you work indoors, try to get at least half an hour of sunlight during the day. Let as much natural light into your workspace or home as possible.
At night, avoid bright screens within two hours of your bedtime. Switch off all lights, wifi, and electronics in your bedroom. Rather than using the television to wind down, read a book or listen to an audio recording.
Invest in dark-out curtains to ensure the room is completely dark. If you wake up during the night and need to move around, use a dim light.
2. Maintain a regular sleep schedule
Sleeping and waking up at the same time each day, helps to optimise the quality of your sleep. If you need to make up for a sleep debt, take a nap during the day, rather than sleeping in past your usual wake-up time. Once you’re getting enough sleep, you won’t need an alarm clock to wake you in the morning.
3. Watch what you eat and drink
Caffeine can cause sleep problems therefore try to avoid coffee, chocolate, and tea after lunch. A nightcap may help you fall asleep. However, it interferes with your sleep cycle by waking you up in the middle of the night.
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Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 12:55 AM UTC
Watch a blue bird flutter
Watch it over the gutter
He'll fly to begin
Something we call: Imagine
Watch them sing and dance
Under a soft trance;
We like to call dream,
Under the moon's beam
For all his life he will fly
Believing that he won't die
Unless he neglects his flight
To the eternally bright light
Until one day he descends
To the earth's bitter ends
Giving his wings an inflammation.
Don't worry just keep in mind: This is imagination
Nov 3, 2010
Nov 3, 2010 at 12:14 AM UTC
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Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 2:57 AM UTC
Expansion of the mind, go expand your soul
Its tension in the pores of the sentimental life, dragging strife, passive stride
Leading in the self by an inward stagnancies
Friction in the depths of the recording heard, rotten words, being stirred
Deciding. What’s my inspiration?
Where’s the condemnation for choosing satisfaction?
Do I aim at all? And when I do is the target lucid, are my purposes eluded
With contemplation inspiring inflammation of the whole, body mind soul
Control, the hope for every one for every situation to cope with the note-less birds in the
cemeteries
Sitting in the trees
Lets eradicate the trees
Allow it to be done
To those that stand tall budding each season
but loom over bare when the harvest comes
Lets allow the buds to bloom.
Oct 17, 2011
Oct 17, 2011 at 11:01 PM UTC
Lorenzo is what I call my lupus
Because …. Why not?!
From now on, it’ll be just the two of us
So best commit and tie that knot
Lorenzo was the guy I never noticed
Sometimes trying to give out a sign
And when quiet, never really missed
Resigned to be benign
But every signal missed
Simply lingered and formed a stack
Their evolution was dismissed
So came the revolt…the unprovoked attack
Lorenzo was sad, Lorenzo was mad….Lorenzo wanted to be seen
Depression, anxiety, inflammation - my body on fire
Lorenzo hit and Lorenzo kicked…. I found out he could be mean
Fatigue and ….what was I saying?..panic levels going higher
It took nearly a year but finally I met
him
No longer in shadows haunting my body
Here in the open, Lorenzo didn’t look so grim
Now introduced, it took time but I asked Lorenzo to be my buddy
I asked him to help me know
When what I was doing triggered him
He agreed to be patient and take it slow
He’d stick around and wouldn’t act out on a whim
We sat down in the comfort of our home
I asked him questions he couldn’t answer
Where did he come from?
How long had he been around?
Why hadn’t he wanted to be found?
Did I do something wrong?
Was I going to be sufficiently strong?
Would I ever go back to being fine?
But as he shrugged the questions away
Lorenzo said to me : “at the end of the day
I don’t make you better or worse…
I am with you, for better and worse!”
Oct 31, 2021
Oct 31, 2021 at 3:50 PM UTC