Poetry Health Poems

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Details | Light Poetry |
She's dressed in freshly laundered scrubs,
a floral top and pants pale blue.
There for a moment to hand me a gown,
and tell me what to do.

As I'm getting undressed, she checks on a man,
he's in the room right next to mine.
He's crying in pain and begging for help,
I hear her tell him that he'll be fine.

A few moments later, the crying has stopped,
as she leaves she turns out his light.
Whatever she did, it's done the trick,
he'll be able to sleep tonight.

She's back with me now and with her this time,
she has her tools in tow.
It's 3 in the morning and she must be tired,
but if she is it doesn't show.

Thermometer ready to check my 'temp,
lift my tongue and tuck it under.
As she wraps the black cuff around my arm,
I watch her and I wonder.

Working twelve hour shifts,
three days off then four days on.
Has she a husband or any children,
who miss her when she's gone?

Does she like cooking or singing?
Does she paint or like to read?
The needle, she pricks me, with such precision,
I hardly even bleed.

My IV's in place, my medicine given,
she says goodnight with eyes so kind.
Just as I'm drifting off into sleep,
a thought suddenly enters my mind.

To this woman I leave my health in her hands,
a serious matter, this isn't a game.
It strikes me as crazy just how much I trust her,
when all I know of her is simply her name.

By~Michelle Lacey

Copyright © Michelle Lacey | Year Posted 2011




Details | Light Poetry |
This year I turned the big ‘5-0’
And my body is acting strange
So I went to see the doctor who said
Not to worry, as I was going through ‘the change.’

“Is there anything I can take?” I asked
He replied, “There’s HRT
But I don’t believe in prescribing it,
Let’s try to deal with this naturally!”

You could have knocked me backwards
And I thought, all well and good for him
It wasn’t his raging hormones 
Making him feel like a stranger within

He doesn’t get narked, by the little things
That before would go over his head
Or wake up at night, in a lather of sweat
And have to get up to change his bed

It isn’t him having palpitations
Which make you feel like you’re going to die
It’s not him, who feels angry one moment
And the next as if he could cry

He’s not lapsing in concentration
Or feels like he’s his losing his mind,
Because he put the milk in the washing machine
And it took him an hour to find!

It isn’t he who keeps feeling so crap
When a ‘monthly’ is missed or comes late
And I bet he never just has to look at food
In order for him to gain weight!

He’s not always taking medicine for thrush
Or constantly needing to pee
So I bet he’d be first to pop the pills
If it was him going through this, not me

So I looked at him and said “I’ll give it a go
But I don’t really hold much hope”
And walked out of his surgery, feeling as though
I could have hung him with some rope!

But off I went and months have gone past
Of getting worse doing - ‘naturally,’
So I’ve made an appointment with a lady doc
Who might take pity, and prescribe ‘HRT.’

Copyright © Janette Fisher | Year Posted 2009

Details | Prose Poetry |
New Economics is Feminist Peace-Restorative Economics,
about cooperatively nurturing healthy nutritional investments
rather than WinLose dyspeptic high risk
beat-down 
over-testosteroned 
divestment competition games.

Have you seen a Rockwell 1950's Lemonade Wars?
Two girls, both white of course,
dressed for YoungRepublican success
scowling at each other on a pristine deserted street
of the tree-lined suburban variety,
arms folded across their angry relentless middle-class chests,
shoulders hunched for their LoseLose anger battle.

Each stands before her lemonade stand,
across the street from one other,
each with a sign that originally says 10 cents,
but with a bold line across it,
replaced below with a somewhat smaller 5 cents,
also crossed out,
followed by a 2 cents price war notice,
about which the entire neighborhood apparently would not give 2 cents
to get involved.

Would this be less surprising if we were looking at two white boys?
How about two brown-skinned boys?
Does the humor have more of an edge to it?
Or perhaps it's no longer funny at all.
Maybe more about just another racist stereotype
about not having two suburban cents between them,
about what is intelligent multicultural economic behavior.

Do you think it more likely two girls might have formed a cooperative?
Replaced their two tables into one larger street presence,
faced their two signs both up and down the street
to better alert oncoming traffic seeking therapy,
rather than aim them across the street at each other
like weapons of mutual traumatic disdain,
splitting their take at the end of a lovely day
chattering away with and between more convivial customers.

But, probably less likely for two boys from the 50's and 60's.
Today, I'm not so sure.
Perhaps boys and girls, and all between,
are learning a healthier,
more fertile,
way of doing the cooperative math,
finding profit through ecopolitical interrelationships.

We have feminist psychology and therapy and medicine
and politics
and theology and history and sociology
and probably anthropology, for all I know.
Research and theorem proofing and disproofing
more likely to unfold through networking circles
of mutual refolding nurture
than competitive marching in bought-and-sold squares
of irrational spiritual distinctions 
without seminal natural difference.

So, why is New Economics not called Feminist EcoPolitics?
Maybe it is, but not where I live
and not where I have non-matriotically read,
but I still hope to see more cooperative non-violent lemonade stands
across suburban and urban and rural divides,
blending gender divides to make lemonade out of,
well,... whatever you have of potential nourishing value,
discarding over-heated presumptions of gotta-have competition,
to pour out equivalent power-assumptions of cooperative ecopolitics,
where Golden Rules apply transgenderally
as Golden Ratios reply transculturally,
producing Golden Elixirs of inclusive consumer-producer satisfaction;

This day we will have done well
and faithfully,
truthfully 
and trustingly,
peacefully
and justly.


Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016




Details | Light Poetry |
ONLY HEALTH AND JOY I believe You Father God is in control. Tell me more... I want to know what else You want me to do; I want to know who else You want me to know, I want to know what else You want to reveal to me, Open my eyes, my ears, my heart and my mind let the wind the blows whisper to me let the sunshine tell me still there is hope let the blooming flowers tell me the possibilities let the tweeting birds be the notes to alarm me Ah!!! let it be Father God! Let Your Holy Spirit lead my feet Unto You Oh! God I laid my plans, Father God, look at them I want to know which of them brings You more glory and honor. I want to know which of them heads me to Your path. I want to know which of them draws a smile to Your face. You know and watch over me everyday, You know my every thought, my every heartbeat and my every action, I believe in whatever I do O Father God, You are already there for me You send hosts of angels to guard me You send the grinning sunshine to invite new hope Before I put all my effort, time, energy and all I speak to You anytime of the day for I believe everytime I speak with my heart You my Father God is listening kindly to me. From long prayers, written words, breath prayers, hymns... Though there are times, I can't even find the right words to say. And so what I do is to just close my eyes, then there silent tears roll on my cheeks but I know my Spirit will speak for me I want more of You and less of me I believe You are carrying me on this troubled path Never ever You will let me go Or never ever You will forsake me I trust You know me more than myself My past, present and my future You knew before I ever began to walk I believe You are holding me in Your palms You are fully in control of the events My win is our joint victory Hard-pressed because of the circumstances but I believe You will not give me these not because You see me a probable failure rather You gave this to me because I can... Together with You, I can and I will We will win. We will win. Despite these pains and tears I trust someday when I'll be with You You will smile at me and tell me I did well on the task You gave me And I pass, You will welcome me then Into Your loving arms where there are no more tears where there are no more pains where there are no more sicknesses where there are no more sufferings only health and joy... _____________________________________________________ O.E. Guillermo 9:09 pm, May 15, 2015

Copyright © Olive Eloisa Guillermo | Year Posted 2015

Details | Dramatic Verse |
-Infected- with *PSD

My luck is tough, 
My life has been rough,
I cannot feel my dreams,
I dream of dreams, that can't be felt.

In the deep corners of my mind
There is something there no one will ever find
I close my eyes and disappear into a world of loneliness
CAN I TELL YOU HOW I FEEL??

This is how I feel!

I feel lost, then I feel complete
How can this be?
Poor little old me~ 
I find myself with this crazy addiction
A state that moves me causing all kinds of unnecessary friction
Becoming another weak addict to something greater than, 
------------Drugs and Alcohol
This affects my entire family
No one around me is sure on how to react
This addiction makes crack look like an antibiotic 
 
I see it in their faces
The disappointment!
The disgrace! 
They gave up the practice when it comes to tough love
Guilty I confess, an addict in my own house
Far from reality, not caring about that man once called my spouse
Yes, I chose my dose of non-fictional poets over him
I don't feel the shame the day I let him walk away
Far, far away, I had nothing to say
Hitting rock bottom, maybe it's too late to rebuild my life
Not wanting to claw my way out of the hole
Rebuilt I will, through a magical poem, in this soup bowl

Here, you find me swimming with a crowd of wonder
Other creative people whose words speak louder than thunder
At first I thought I found a means to lock out all the bother
Hiding from all my responsibilities
Letting go of all my possibilities
Lacking the strong point of running out from the shaft
I sit here--
Sadder than the saddest tears you've ever experienced
Behind the soup screen, is where I found myself
I told nobody else.

I'm failing to admit to my fellow poets
The soup is a wonderful disease,                         
It keeps me from a good sleep,
With all these poems that put my mind at ease
I love the way it has full control, no matter where I go
It's true like an addict, family, friends don't matter anymore
I log on and want more, more and more.

Every poet here has been here for me through good or bad
Like a drunk suck!ng it up when I feel sad

The poetry soup, ~ IS MY VERY OWN SIN CITY!
Here is where I want to spend eternity

Embrace, me in ways that make me happy
Here I feel - - I feel - - SO! - - SO! - -SO!  Free!

A simple disease that needs no cure
Here I feel very secure
This is no drug, here you find no rock & roll
I'm drinking up the soup, like an alcoholic's goal

Spreading the poetry soup disease, puts my mind at ease
Knowing poetry over powers' suicidal thoughts anytime.

Here  ~I~ 
REST IN PEACE 
With A Poetry Soup Disease

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

Details | ABC |
Alphabet Constructs 3 2 1

Annotated Achilles amends fallen frame amputees

Bulimec Barbies browse media monkey banalaties

Cameo clouds cling to beaded breath curios

Dopamine dreams dilenate check cash desires

Echo endorfins eulogize bullet brain excrement

Fecal folly fantasies reveal relevant frivoloties

Gonadial grownups gulp secret scrotal generosities

Helical hemorriods hinder senior stricken hemocraps

Idiotic ideals idioiosyncrate post partem iconoclasts

Jack Jill juxtapositories seek sexestential jouveniers

Kryptic killer kisses ascot arrogant kingdumbs

Liquid lipid loiners fear frontline lucklullibies

Malovent mommies masterbate rich reflective mommocules

Nevertheless nightengales nourich ruby rich noonbeams

Ovulatory occults outsource torrent tofu outrages

Pensive picses picnics lovelorny passions 

Queer quiet quintensials release rancid quotients

Rape ripe residuals nullify nimble reprocussions

Silky seafoam silohouttes fornicate frothy sandlets

Tepid torch trilogies belie beligerent tourniquets

Useless utterences utilize organize orgasmic utopias

Venimous vixens violate cruel.com visions

White willow wombs softly seed hospice hell winds

XY XX xfactors envision extracurricular xraydoms

Yearning yoyo yesterdays calculate clearcovert yeilds

Zen zealous zions mirror maginfy Zoneotones 

Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |

Impulsive or compulsive

Either way it's not conducive

Living with this disorder

Can't be good for my liver

Obsessions, when do they stop?

Compulsions, when do I stop?

Let me illustrate and reiterate

My demons make me infuriated

To the point, man, I really want to escape this

Live everyday like your last?

These hours go by fast

Trying to obliterate every ounce of the past

Always with the imagery and self coping insanity

That broke me and continues to break me.

Another day, no not another day

I just got out, please let me stay away.

Copyright © Stefan Cote | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |

I continue to feel
the searing pain. 
ever constant.
so keen.
Not the kind
    that heals fast,
      open wound that closes.
But, the kind that stays vulnerably
       with the passing years.
Three decades 
        and still counting.

Woe to this pain!
With laden anguish, 
The heart's bemoaning.
Thinking it was born
     without a name.
Only to find then
     at a much later time;
giving in.
Oblivious now.
Unashamed
    that my bosom groans,
        complains.


Copyright © Wendy Meyer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
Nurse: Briefly describe your pain
Me: Ouch
Nurse: On a scale from 1 to 10, how would you rate your pain?
Me: I dunno...where's your scale?
Nurse: No, no sir, on a scale...
Me: Okay!...180 butt-naked
Nurse: When was the last time you had a physical exam?
Me: Well, me and this lady went out the other night...
Nurse: We'll need a stool sample
Me: YOUR stool or my stool? I'll need a saw...
Nurse: We'll need to do some lab work
Me: I understand, it's hard to keep good help isn't it?
Nurse: Do you have a history of suicide?
Me: Umm...
Nurse: Are you having trouble urinating?
Me: Just a sec...nope, no problem here
Nurse: Sh-t!
Me: Just a sec...nope, no problem here
Nurse: Son of a...How many fingers am I holding up??
Me: Aha!...One in the middle and four bent ones, right?
Nurse: I swear to G... Sign this freekin' admittance form!
Me: Uh uh!...I deny the whole thing...
Nurse: (Sigh) Are you allergic to anything?
Me: Hospitals...

Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2012

Details | Prose Poetry |
Truth is a feather 
pushed off to the other side.

Truths are a body of feathers
within which our bodies reside.

OK, students of life’s healthiest purposes and meanings,
it’s time to regather, if you would be so kind.

Namaste.

[Silence]

[My EcoTherapist is trying to recall our bicameral minds with ecological bodies.]

[More kinda creepy silence.]

[I wonder if I have time for a cigarette.]

How do you understand “mind” as other than “body”?

[OK, she leads with a dualist assumption
for a session advertised as nondualist,
so the correct answer must be,
I don’t.]

Which, mind or body, do you believe came first,
or do you believe,
as I do,
consciousness and biosystems co-arise nondually?

[I knew it!
Biosystems are self-identifying consciousness-rememory 
DNA-encoded systems, or RNA, if you’re a tree or something green,
from before the time when physical root systems
transubstantiated into metaphysical regenerate root bilateral,
then bipedal, 
then bicamerally balancing,
eco-political systems.
I remember our history of biological evolution co-mentoring sessions,
out on the coral reefs of time’s surfing copresence.]

If mind emerges from reiterative and redundant and resonant neural-cellular development,
in these, and probably other, senses co-arising nondually,
then what do you think could survive of your Ego identity
upon total biosystemic flatline demise of your natural-chemically elementary cellular body?

From where would sensory consciousness and memory emerge?
From when, and for how long?

[Hang on there now. I’m stuck back on the where question, 
which I think should probably default as Nowhere,
Ego emerges from nowhere?
No, no, If dead,
then Ego as sensory consciousness and memory is nowhere
at that time, and on into the future of EarthTribal evolutionary history.
No such phenomenon.
No such experience within continuous Earth-spinning Time.
I think?
But only as long as I dance this Ego-consciousness string
I am]

As your mindbody decomposes,
is this really still your Ego’s story?
In that future time of opportunities for health and relationship
and transactions,
capacities for ongoing communication,
you struggle to face their mortal loss now, projecting forward,
we struggle together to find faith 
these lost opportunities are not your post-critical event
of loss, decay, absence, inevitable physical and mental defeat.

[I don’t even have faith that anyone will think that day
has come even one day too soon.
Nor would I care to invest in such an unwise faith.]

Or,
in the face of this inevitable termination of Ego’s mindbody story,
do you, 
as unfolding conscious memory-string of continuous information,
transform into your nutritionally reiterating responses and contributions
yet reverberating within EarthTribe’s ReGeneration Story?

Is your Ego expanding out toward Earth’s Story?
pregnant pregenetic, nearly timeless Creation Story,
out and yet deeply into this Elder (0)Riginal Intent.

Body memory transforming within ecopolitical truths of post-taoist beauty,
remembering—revolving—rewinding—reweaving
ecologic of Ego/Eco balancing
embryonic bicameral
dipolar cognitive/affective neural emergence
(0) CommonsCentered DNA/RNA code—syntax
healthy reverse development instructions
for normative natural/spiritual
mind/body elational resonant resolutions
giving oneself birth into this body’s time
as giving ourselves freedom
for time’s codependent love of light ourselves.

[My self-image emerges rather far toward the depressive side
of love as ecoconscious light myselves.
Oh, wait, maybe that connection between agape as Basic Attendance,
understory of all those relational dramas, and nonrelational boredoms,
and fears,
and angers,
and….]

Memories,
knowledge,
thoughts,
comprehension,
dissonance and dismay,
feelings of elation and relation,
anticipation,
innocence,
ignorance,
love and hate,
anger and fear,
all Ego’s products,
as Ego, in turn, is produced
by unfolding DNA instructions
within a nurturing DNA-developed warm embryonic pronoic womb
living in this specific time
within  Earth’s evolution of continuing ecosystemic health-consciousness.

[Oh, I get it, health as therapy-consciousness.
Puts a postmillennial twist on post-doctoral medicinal sciences.
Kind of self-serving, though, 
unless all humane-nature is for ecotherapeutic vocations,
in dying as in living,
in living as optimally visible through mortality’s timeless lens.]

What we inherited from Elder wombs of Time’s incarnation
is what Ego becomes
to cherish as responsible authority
rooted within teleologically exegetical historic evidence
unveiling regenerative evolutions as cooperative nested-networks,
and to let go free as a last pay-it-forward gift
to nurture future healthy regenerations of time
bilaterally echoing
fractal-polypathic light,
(0)-TaoWombTime.

[Why do I feel like I could use a bath
more than a cigarette?]

Time,
dualdark
deepdense Ego-Ecohypnotic co-elational learning bright,
white octaving night,
protons merging eco-lateral binomial electronically issuing waves
as Yes! reweaves notnot 
yinyin
WinWin embryonic-yet.

[I’m wondering if there is something in Taoist water
that regenerates this wu wei balance
spinning through my bicamerally revolving mind
as body?]

Could you become as curious about other’s Ego development stories
as you have obsessed about your own?

[Wait a minute,
when did I give you the OK to label me as self-obsessed?
Or maybe the balance point here 
invites comparisons between obsessive curiosities,
in which case
perhaps my own Ego health constant revival
does indeed lie most mortally on my failing mind.]

If so,
please note differences
but memorize Earth’s natural systemic similarities,
especially about what we all want our end to say
one day's capacities for love as peace,
about gradually subsiding incapacities of anger Ego losses
and fear of/for future Earth as sacred compost, 
transubstantiating post-climatic residency.

Namaste.

[Namaste.
Oh wait,
was I supposed to write that out loud?]

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |
Beauty, like Truth,
speaks eternal promise
of timeless decomposition.

Flexing Grace
effects empathic Truth
optimizing promise prophets past
reiterating Golden Mythic Creation Stories.

Many have mentioned strength of compassion
and tenacious flexibility of mutual mindfulness
as Two Horses to effective political-economic
natural-spiritual sufficiency.

Most dominant Yang encultured poli-economic operators
require less YangTruth voice
and more cooperative listening Yintegrity,
less powering over by opting first for powering cooperatively 
WinWin toward truly engaging, multiculturally embracing, outcomes.

Yang speaks integrity of fertile passion,
need,
wants,
often urgent.
Yin is aptic-optic-empathic,
yet also can step up to polypathic,
mindful selfless, and too spineless, flexibility
for more competitive deductive-reductive exercises.

Too Yin oppressing cultural feelings,
absence of Yang SelfPassion singing in harmony with CoPassion,
brings depression
about oppressive Yang's nondual pouting doubting absence.

Passionate integrity Left
with grateful flexibility Right,
together,
can bring mindfully optimal strength 
to face conflict,
even climatic boundary issues and situations,
tipping toward nutritional doors needing further opening,
tipping away from toxic possibilities 
currently trending toward more monoculturally closed-door competitive stink,
decay finalizing cay's original embryonic promise
toward polyculturing health.

Love's strength is coordinated integrity,
cooperative flexibiity,
promising mutually mindful gratitude outcomes
for endless generations of Earth's Tribes.

Balanced together,
truth and beauty as passion with multiculturing flexibility,
both universalist Yang and unitarian Yin
synergetically square-dancing bilateral capacities
for receiving love
and for loving influence, production,
expression,
articulation within co-arising Now's invitations
into further evolving Grace.

Optimal health/wealth strength in each Eternal Moment
dynamically balances integrity and flexibility,
confluence and yet also the glad-joy memories
of dissonance lost, with gratitude, for strengths of flexibility,
curiosity, empathy.
Old School gut polyculturing wisdoms.
New Economics political ecotherapeutic optimization,
EcoConscious CoOperating ReGenesis.

A new (0)-Core PostMillennial health/pathology ruddered threshold
establishing to pursue and play further WinWin deviance
into ecological norms
re-centering
re-membering evolutionary/revolutionary calibrations past,
more deductively inclusive of other organic polynomials,
balancing positive with double-negative polypathic variables,
ideas,
moments equivalently between past and future
paradigms,
co-evolving systems;
political power positives,
economic co-investment in therapeutic futures
with long-term slow-growth
nutritionally cooperative 
positive 
(0)Riginal Health EnCulturing Intent.

Prophesying evolutionary outcomes 
among still-emergent polyculturing EarthTribes,
to date,
save for those already passed entirely away,
harbingers of what we are invited to cooperatively change.

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |
they walk in suite
that are thin
ask how didn't they get in
its so tight
you see thur right
you can't help but stare
back out and bare
where i live theyer near
those lady
SUMMER BEACH WEAR

Copyright © kurtis scott aka curtis futch jr | Year Posted 2012

Details | Rhyme |
'Believe me' 

It's the disbelief that I most hate
Being told that I exaggerate
When life's already so unfair
I know most people hardly care

Whether it's pain I share or my lack of sleep 
Most my woes; don't share I keep
Finally I think you understand
Till you dismiss me once more with a flick of your hand

Won't you try, just pretend to believe
When I share with you my heart on sleeve
Not many I love know real me
Yet to 'strangers' online I at last feel free
It's true no one will share my blues
Unless they walk a mile in my shoes

'Believe me' ~ by Victoria Payne

Copyright © Victoria Payne | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |
Always having a problem with dairy,
having adverse side effects pretty fairly,
but being deprived of ice cream is just too much,
whereupon walking down frozen desserts aisle I got a hunch,

I daydreamed I was an ice cream queen,
making ice cream solely out of using soybeans,
helping people with lactose intolerance everywhere,
while helping to make my family and I millionaires,

It would come in all kinds of flavors,
pistachio, chocolate ribbon, anything you favor,
strawberry is the flavor that I would savor,
with nothing artificial on the ingredient label,

Then "poof" my daydream was all gone,
seeing some So Delicious ice cream made me feel undone,
returning home with my soy based vanilla ice cream,
just a middle class lady with a craving and a daydream.





1-14-17

Copyright © cheryl hoffman | Year Posted 2017

Details | Prose Poetry |
Addictions, restrictions, afflictions, decisions,
A needle, a bottle, step down hard on that throttle!
Disaster, no more laughter, destruction for years after.
Placate, eradicate, fornicate, masturbate,
Addiction.  Restriction.  Addiction.

No more art, no more heart, another false start.
No more honoring love, 
Through God’s sacred benediction.
Just destruction, restriction.
Addiction.

Give it a go, run that prop right over top of her Skipper!
Hell yes!  Sounds like fun!  
Our souls through a wood chipper!
Addiction, a rather benign-sounding word, don’t ya think??Let’s call it what it is: Jack The Life Ripper!

Slots!   Cha CHING!   Sex!   Food!   Anything!
Addiction?  NO WAY!  I just like to play!
Hypocrisy, a democracy run on BIG PHARMA,
Don’t think about it!  Sure!  It’s all real! 
Here’s your script for a 1,000 more pills!

Addiction. Prison. The System.  What a waste.
What a horrific affliction in this human race!
Disgrace.  Sadness.  Do-overs don’t exist.
Deception.   Desperation.   Annihilation.
Another slit wrist.

Artistic brilliance being pickled nightly in a skull.
No more compassion, no more money, no more love.
Losing it all.
No more light in your eyes dear,
Now they are black and so dull.

Addiction.  WHY??
Is getting through a human life really that tough?
That we all have to medicate,
With this poisonous stuff?
Addiction.

Don’t say you don’t know, you hypocrite you,
We’ve all been there at some point, to something, it’s true.
Don’t give me your shit.  Don’t tell me you’re fine.
Doesn’t matter who’s is worse, yours or mine.
Addiction.

I’m SICK of crazy land!   I want off of this ride!
No, you cannot have me, Mr. Jekyll and Hyde!
I’m SO ANGRY I had to say goodbye to my friend the noble king,
Way too early because of this Jack The Life Ripper thing!
Addiction.

As a mother, I’m simply scared out of my mind!
How do I get my babies through a world so unkind?
How do I keep them from running straight into it blind?
They won’t listen, most of us never do.
Premonition. Please!  Not them!  Not addiction!

For three years I watched in agony my greatest love dissolve,
Destroyed, I moved up here, to somehow get back my resolve,
From the frying pan straight into the fire.
This is not my sanctuary, this is another addict’s funeral pyre.
Addiction.

The human condition comes with such a design flaw,
We should come with two bodies, not just one,
The first to ride hard and wild, toss it out when we’re done.
Then step effortlessly into the second, shiny, new and clean,
And live the rest of it out, perfectly pristine.

Unfortunately, we don’t, we get only this one.
And when we go hard for a little too long,
The damage is done.
No going back, no saying “Oops! My bad!”
Because now you are screwed, nothing more scary or sad.

Addiction.

© 2017 Elisa Fortise Christensen 



Copyright © Elisa Christensen | Year Posted 2017

Details | Light Poetry |
         ‘ Walk With Me … ’ ( Based On 23rd Psalms )



‘ Walk With Me ’… my Lord Said,
‘ Walk With Me and Be Unafraid
Walk With Me, and You Will Know
when You Walk With Me, I Go Where You Go …

I’ll Go Where You Must Go                                               Matt. 28: 20
We’ll Face Storms, That Blow
We’ll Face Every Lion’s Roar
... Even Face Death’s Door …

Because, If You Walk With Me … I Am The Key                   John 11: 25, 26
I Open Faith, To Set You Free
I Open Miracles and Possibilities
I Open Proof … So You Can Believe                                    Gen. 1: 1

… and I Walk, Beside Your Trail of Tears
I’ll Be The Light, Thru Your Darkest Fears
I’ll Walk Beside You, Thru All Paths of Pain
& I Promise You … We’ll Reach The Rainbow, After The Rain   James 2: 5

… All I Ask … is, ‘ Walk With Me …
and You ... Will Walk For Eternity …                                      John 3: 16


For Rhonda Hero – Stay Strong, Brave and Believe,
            My Poet-Sister …  Our Prayers and 
                 Christian Love Are With You

                                   MoonBee

Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2009

Details | Prose Poetry |
GOD we blame you for the evil that we do. Why don't you keep coming to our rescue? Just wipe it all away, make everything new so the crazy and foolish things we can continue to do, then maybe, we will believe in you.

You see, we are highly intelligent we think we know better than you so when you hear us croon we want you to dance to our toon, now we may sound like buffoons but GOD we want you to make life a cartoon. Thence no consequence.

Even as children we have learned if you play with fire you will get burned and if you do dirt a lot of people could get hurt. But your laws are old from so long ago where it also say you shall reap what you sow and your old laws we want to overthrow.

Yes GOD, we are very smart we just refuse to understand that you made life real and not wonderland, which is why we say a woman can marry a woman and a man a man. If you get that sensation then it's aspiration, to us it's a good relation but you call it an abomination. That we won't even mention cause we pay it no attention.

Because we want our livelihood, to live like Hollywood, even if it's falsehood we still want you to make it all good. So your laws we want to change or rearange. We love to shake our groove thing, to make life a game where nothing matters but fortune and fame.

Therefore, we want to be players coz we love to play, the problem is it puts us on ground of very soft clay. Although it feels on solid ground we stand, it keeps turning into quicksand. As we are going down wearing an ugly frown, bidding ourselves adieu, we blame you.

Now GOD if to our every whim you would cater then we would stop being traitors and haters but only if you be our personal waiter. Since your consequences can be brutal and trying to change your laws is futile then we are highly disturbed so we'll have to kick you to the curd. 

We don't care about the preachers broadcasting, that you and your Word are from Everlasting to Everlasting. Furthermore, if you are The Father and The Master why would you let people go through such horrible disasters, while letting children die of cancer.

Knowing very well we're looking directly at the answer. For we know it's a crime, a shame and a disgrace when they let children play on land full of buried toxic waste. They know it's there they just don't care because they are in the land of milk and honey, so they do it in the name of power, fame, fortune, Greed, MONEY.

And they don't fret because they know the people are not a threat. As we turn our heads, twittle our thumbs, act dumb and even get numb and expecting a good outcome. While the bigwigs keep snapping people like twigs and using the public as guinea pigs. As they poison the air, the land, the water and the food too, yet GOD we blame you for the hellish and heinous things we do.

I remember hearing my father holler, gather around and hear me sing, this is my castle and I am the king. No one would open their mouth because there was no way we could tell our father how to run his house. You are our Heavenly Father and The Creator , we want to be the dictators and you our personal waiter, snap our finger and you're the operator.

Its all Vanity and what is the meaning of INSANITY?

Copyright © Milton Robertson | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |
Clouds burst
   Crops thirst

Copyright © Katherine Stella | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry |
When I was eight
I knew Paradise could not be merely secular humane
and yet be justly and omnipotently divine,
when a Great Horned Owl
breathed her last sacred breath toward me,
left alone
while she flew away
to where I would thinly follow
in my robust adult time.

It took me eight cycles of octave eight
to realize why
Paradise must include multiculturing nests for fowl
and ecopolitically cooperative seas for fish
and surf's bilateral co-gravity
eco-measuring timeless here and now eternity.

Because a monocultural Paradise
would be polypathically oxymoronic,
an economically and nutritionally ridiculous metaphysical paradigm,
not ecologically sustainable,
not even basic harmonic balance
because not multiculturally
and polypathically 
or polyphonically healthy intelligence
of regenerative/degenerative ecopolitical design.

Everybody knows that Heaven
begins and ends in an organically holistic Earth Garden,
with zero-balanced degenerative waste stream,
yes?

So how does denying our climate
and Earthscape wasting pathologies
help us become the ReForesting Paradise 
we might cooperatively become
through healing these dissonant
decaying apartheid anomalies
together?

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
"I Do Believe" 

The purpose of LIFE is to {Living In Faith Ever} 
to enrich God within us 
to an optimum level 
so that We as Humans 
can be guided by God 
to fuel out brothers and sisters 
with the same driving force 
to connect with the living God, 
to His existence and 
to See the Invisible, 
Believe the Incredible, and 
to Receive the Impossible 
to our everlasting journey 
to Heaven.

Rev. Samuel Mack
Copyright 2013

http:paladinnews1.blogspot.com

Copyright © Rev. Dr. Samuel Mack OMS DD | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
In the Work That Reconnects,
we have a dialogue exercise
in which Person A asks Person B
"Who are you?"
several times over a few minutes,
as it feels right to reprime this exploratory pump;
then person B does the same for person A.

The person hosting, facilitating, enabling
this reiterative question's redundant possibilities
is merely an echo-present listener,
noticing diversity within these multiple evolving responses,
without judging good, bad, ugly, or even indifferent,
quietly hearing rhythms of longing for love
between the crippling cracks of anger and fear,
compelling and compiling self with other hatred,
pathology.

The question,
Do all these diverse self-descriptions truly fit
this same love v. anger-fear polyculturing elephant?
does not usually arise.
Rather,
we accept all these scrabbling voices
and hats
and feelings
and ideas
and beliefs
co-occurring within one bilateral
positive-health v. negative-pathology mindbody ecosystem,
seeking diastatic fullness
richness,
poly-empathic
polymorphic communication,
design, development, co-empathic investment,
and cooperative-integrative implementation outcomes,
at the end of this elephant's rhetorical day,
if not sooner.

Why is this not always the case
when we ask our friends and families,
our public sector leaders 
and financial sector investors,
"Who do you hope we are becoming?"

What loves are we preparing to invest in 
and which past angers and future fears to divest of?

What indicators can I give
that I already invest in cooperatively regenerate health
agendas,
platforms,
designs and intentions,
co-mentoring therapeutic diapraxis
of which I preach so positively to others?

I know you support restoring regenerative health to our soil
and preserving clean water,
as I do.
So does it bother you,
as it does me,
that we still contaminate our water with poo and pee
instead of investing in nutrition-starved soil,
where both could be positive resources 
countering past neglect and abuse,
rather than doubly-negative pathology?

We say we support cooperatively vibrant and healthy local economies
and empowering political vitality,
so does it bother you,
as it does me,
to so often hear "either-or" deductive reductivism
and wonder why not first cooperatively consider "both-and?"

I appreciate what you just said
and I wonder if adding X might make your idea
even better.
Do you agree,
or maybe you see concerns for yourself and others
new to me,
of which we might learn together?

Could a cooperative election or social change campaign
begin with compiling interdependent hopes and wishes
and loves of Who Are You?
thereby more smoothly avoiding stuckness-traps
of fear and anger and dissonant pathological constipative outcomes.

Could investing both-and cooperative communication norms
better lead toward co-investing in healthy wealth,
politically strong-embraced policies,
procedural and dialogical transparency,
polyculturally inclusive design and development and discernment
of poli-eco-logical therapy
v. multi-morphic pathology;
co-arise local through global health outcome networks,
diastatic eco-normativity,
embracing each and every sacred Person A and B response
to Who are we?

Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |
       Chicken Head

       Your a bird, with no wings!
    Your soul is lost and lives in the streets.
     Why sell your body the way you do?
        you least can get your son some new shoes.
     If you going to sell your body,get what you can get.
         You have kids, you need to get a grip.
          Do you really want your daughter to grow up like you?
         To flag down cars for every man that comes threw!
           Why are you selling your last food stamps?
          To pay a cell phone bill that has laped.
      This is no debate, your son lips is cracked from being dehydarted.
     Why do you make them suffer for the things you do?
      Look into their eyes. thats the hatred for you!
         Your baby is crying tears, for you can hear.
               Crying to be loved by you,
            You can really fix the things you do!
   Each child is a gift from God, A bright shining star.
                 Look inside your heart,
    and ask your self is this is what you want to be.
          A chicken head that stay in the streets.
      Ask God for help, when you lay down to sleep.
            Pray the lord your soul to keep.
          If you should die before you wake,
       ask him to help take your kids pain away!
             Some one should decapitate you,
       for all the pain you put your kids threw.
      So stop having kids just for someone eles to raise them.
    I guess it's for the best, because you really don't deserve them!
           They cry for help, they beg of you!
     Your a lost soul, and only God can judge you!
    

Copyright © twanna Irisha | Year Posted 2011

Details | Light Poetry |
Waves from the past at last hit me,
the people envisioned seem suddenly with me. 
As where they'll be when im gone from this world, 
til then I amend to sing songs to unfurl, 
these posts are my eulogy to any who read, 
when im not here to speak still you'll see truth in the feed,
i hope after laughter and smiling for reasons, 
not towards the true love or nature through season, 
I'm closing the curtains for the better of condition, 
this show I did play in but never auditioned, 
to all who did act bravo and well done, interpretive yes, but still not my fun..

Copyright © Charles Baker | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |
Of all the wealth under the sun certainly
Nothing can match good health definitely
It is health and health alone undoubtedly
That describes the living quite eloquently.

Certain simple rules define healthy living
Abstinence, plain food and honest earning
Coupled with exercise and sound sleeping
Keep all medication as a far away thing.

Even though the above things are foremost
More central than these, I count the most
Is love of the Creator through which alone
Serenity of mind, so vital, one can attain.

Copyright © Ramesh Deshpande | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |
Let's wait for the sunset one summer's day
down by the river where I always liked to play
we can kick off our shoes and bury our feet in the sand
come on please be my sweet river man
We can call the wild geese up with a little dab of feed
or jump in the water a little too deep
in that old Red River we can laugh and sing
take me by the hand, make that leap

Write our names in a heart in the sand
you can be my sweet river man
and I'll be your sweet lady river friend
we can hold on for life and scare the catfish twice
anything’s possible that time of day
my white sundress is a little bit dirty
from that red water that always stays so murky

I wouldn't want to be any other place
than down by the river where I always liked to play
and when the moon comes out tonight
and the stars shine bright
your sweet river lady
is going to sing to her sweet river man under the moonlight

watch those stars shooting in the dark as you hold me tight
until we see the sun start to rise
yeah down on the river where I always liked to play
nothing’s changed much since I was just a babe
but now I share with my sweet river man, my favorite place to play

Copyright © Danielle Wise Baxter | Year Posted 2012

Details | Ballad |
Ballad of the poet

When the moon kissed the sun, and light spread upon the earth. *hh*
Bright and early, 
early bird gets the worm.

With sullen time on stand by.... *DJ*"
Spurns emerald valleys that blur upon my new-found perch  *J.M.G*
While all nature wakes from slumber in timeless glory. *E.G*
Morning glory stroked by a ceremonious dandelion... whisper~   *K.D*

Bitter like morning breath.
Rooster crows, two songs, I share a note with him.
My cat rises to the sun of a new day.
Stretches into a c with her tongue curled and tail furled  *S.K.*
My coffee offers the sweetest taste after a goodbye kiss.
Clever and warm, I twinkle to the new morning light,
as I step outside, something pierced my heart..
~Wing broken, his bow in tow, arrows strewn, 
~No flight for thee, love lost, bent arrows I see,"  *R.M*
Everything I see, everything I feel around me.
Becomes a new song.
Born of many emotions.
I roll them on a paper without a pen. 
BUT!  In my mind they speak clearly to me~
Look into My eyes with your heart... and there you will find your soul  * R.A.D.*

"I hear an angel calling The beastly being within"   *R.S*
A new creation awaits beyond the path of dreams content,
Eros and Cupid both shoot through my heart."  *J.H.*
As the arrow's liquid enters my soul...    *RON*
Will that winged creature with the bow and arrows stop blinking his eyes?" *R.P*
He has stretched his wings too far this time.  *V.B.*
"His arrow of love is strumming my heart with golden grace.  *L.M*
A Halo'd smile upon my face.    * L.H*
Has suddenly turned to a grimace!   *G.S.*


(( feel free to add a line** in my comment box... ))

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |
MY RED CHAIR
By Leonard Kleeman

I took a hard fall just the other day
and broke three ribs to my great dismay.
The pain is deep and very hard to take.
I can't even lie down, if just for Pete's sake.

But I was saved by chance, you see
for in my bedroom there's a chair 
just for me.
It's a bright red color and a recliner too
and it's very comfortable for me or for you.

At night for my comfort it becomes my bed.
I even cover myself with a blanket that's red.
I'm in front of the TV and control all the light
So I can sit and watch shows all through the night.

But that's not the purpose of my lovely red chair.
I just can't sleep in bed with my ribs to repair.
When I lie on either side the pain is severe
so I have to sit on my rear in my dandy red chair.

 I stretch myself out and tuck myself in
and pull the blanket way up to my chin.
My red chair protects me with arms on each side
So I don't spill over or go for a ride.

After a few days I got used to the red chair.
I felt so comfortable and was glad it was there.
Now I have to get better to get back in the bed
And when I do, I will dearly miss all that red.

But my beautiful red chair and I just won't part
I'll keep it right next to the bed and my heart
For without that red chair what would I do
If I need it again for me or for you?






 

Copyright © Leonard Kleeman | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
Does your money derive from health-regenerative investments?

Well, what could that mean?

Do you make your money, honey, 
with both light and dark co-arising memory
of midway love and peace intent,
avoiding anger-fear monoculturally competitive
dominant-power relationships,
and struggles against others,
against Earth,
choosing to struggle with cognitive-affective
chronic neural-temporal dissonance,
indicators of imbalance issues,
and opportunities for more polyculturally nutritious
sensory-neural-nutritional
regeneratively-intended 
ecosystemic polyculturing health-trend outcomes?

Is that your elevator speech, or Pledge of Allegiance to ReGenerative Health?

I thought it was a question that assumed
you don't like elevator pitches 
for more money being removed from your pocket,
whether asking or being asked,
don't matter,
bad timing to invest in one-way elevator rides.

Try it again,
what is this regenerative health investment
you think we both have in mind and body?

Is your time and money invested
in this cooperative stream of Earth's regenerate evolution,
co-arising revolution of transition crisis times
as ecoconscious bilateral,
and, by the way, 
therefore evolving-emergent as bicameral-neural
light of logos fractal-ecologic?

I most certainly hope not!!!
That sounds much too grand for EgoMe.

But, your most active stage of hope,
the one more important than all those that could possibly follow,
is now,
this moment,
is always the permaculturist's nutritional Zero-Centric Zone of Ego/Eco
regenerative development and focus

Before you in each relationship and transaction,
political and economic,
two primal principles of cooperative economic investment,
possibly of interest to philanthropic,
and religious,
and large-scale public economic/political health-culture research investors,
but most certainly of interest to EgoYou.

Such a sweeping scale of regenerativity.
Are you sure you can deliver such rich fertility
with my money?
Where are your outcomes of such vast healthy wealth?

You need not search this mindbody proposal
to see if I am community invested,
if time and life are money-valued commodities,
my money and health and regenerative potential
for sale or rent
in exchange for what quality of money,
what source of health investment
absorbing dualdark angry-fearful past pathology?

This proposal comes to you
through deep-nested communities
of co-cultural time as light investment.

What are your layers of cooperative political
and economic investment,
where lie these mutually-subsidiary networks?

My communities are interdependent communicators,
co-empathic autonomic
rich paradigmatic intent and polycultural practice.

Are your health outcomes of potential interest
only to our human tribe,
or is there a cooperative DNA/RNA synergy 
demonstrated in your proposal design,
budget,
and/or installation investment plan?

Which cooperative investment communities appear
as higher risk potential divestors
due to internal monoculturally-dominant
political and economic assumptions? 

How do you propose to avoid Business As Usual 
anthrocentric-normative trends?

Who do you propose will hope and plan to do business with you,
and how,
through mutual barter, and/or cooperation?
And who intends to continue doing business competitively,
without you? And why?

Who do you hope and plan to invest in
and not invest in,
to achieve healthy helpful outcomes,
and what and how,
whether barter, competition, or cooperative absorption
into our Help As Health Bank?

Your proposal outcomes,
for each moment and day and year,
like your own embryonic Ego life,
should demonstrate early investors,
how you will optimize  polyculturally inclusive outcomes
of equitable harmony,
especially if you are not beginning
with a clearly articulated 
and balanced 
health-regenerative theory
root-systemic base
to compost rich fertile health-enculturation.

I will consider your deep learning/listening proposals
each and every moment of each day and night
of mutual ecoconsciousness,
asking where does this proposal fit best 
within our cooperative health-as-help portfolio
with other potential investments at this time,
and/or
to consider in light of prior 
and still ongoing 
cooperative-healthguild investments,
and their comparative health v. pathology outcomes
for future regeneration
of Earth's multiculturing Time.

Please be sure any investment opportunities
explicitly measure future polycultural sensory-health 
against current comparatively monocultural,
over-competitive economic and political status-quo risks,
not only within your Nature-Investment Program Outcomes
but also how nutritional results
will be winnowed and seed-selected,
decomposed to enrich
your own future regenerative Interior Landscape,
your health lives of love
with your original and ongoing cooperators,
yourselves in aligning/maligning relation with others.

Perfect, all here and accounted for.
So, how are you investing and divesting
as our
"Cooperative Help As Health Bank"
ecological economic and political health
polycultural outcome proposal
within your own time as money investment portfolio?








Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |
People, Places, and Things I Didn't Know I Trusted

I rather suddenly, and belatedly,
realized I trust the highest and best use for language,
for every community and communication of faith,
for every school and pedagogical political enculturation,
for every farm and forest,
for every government, including self-replicating government,
for every recreation and arts center,
for every human and animal and Earth service agency,
for every family and tribe and species,
for every ego centered identity
of every age past and to come,
is to become the very best PermaCultural Designers and Developers possible,
to achieve outstanding Continuous Quality Improvement
Health and Safety ecological balance,
multicultural,
political,
economic,
inclusive of multi-regenerational outcomes.
Our highest and best polyculturing vocations,
given our current ego as anthrocentric health v pathology situation
and creation story.

Our PostMillennial Creation Story
began in response to an AgriBusiness As Usual environment
moving away from balanced political and economic norms
about harvesting what you plant,
transgender, and transgenerational complementary equivalence
of authority and responsibility.

This PostMillennial PermaCultural pedagogy of poli-economic design
and development
draws on older nutritional root systems,
reseeding agribusiness norms
with cooperative poli-economic principles 
for not only planting mutual subsidiarity
and harvesting complementarity of regenerative health-trends,
but also incorporates polypathic hunting and decompositional gatherings
of mutually enriching engorging celebration of wisdom 
through past and future generations,
assuming a benign cooperative (0)-zone interest
co-arising trusting 0-Soul Host
incarnating our landscaped universe of mutually subsidiary parasites,
cooperatively loving our health-balancing yin-principle
of integral-complementarity,
co-empathic trust,
integrity of health-normed polyculturing evolutionary compass.

In PermaCulture Design environments,
communication follows and leads a nutritionally-intended flow stream,
with both confluent and some dissonant suboptimizing resonance,
but producing basic healthy trust in WinWin communication
within and between Informed/Exforming/Exformed/Reforming potential.
"Waste" is pathology, loss,
dissonance within outcomes,
but heard as a potential poli-economic resource,
a suffering that will teach us something
we need to learn 
about how to never plan for WinLose outcomes.
Never settle for less than (0)-remainder Ego-ReGenerative Trust,
CoArising Empathic Balance.

In PermaCulture Development planning,
our first rule is to do no harm,
following the principle of mutual subsidiarity.
A corollary of note to program and policy developers
and contract writers
and pundits,
be careful about what and whom we ask for,
rather than with,
and where we may under- and over-project
ecological healthy outcomes in response to client investment.

When organizing and developing well-integrated ecosystems,
we optimize design by giving political preference
to self-organizing,
cooperative empowerment Principles of Complementarity,
what Bucky Fuller comprehended more universally as Synergy,
and Love of healthy integrating balance-harmonics.

Community organizers and builders,
religious co-empathic trust organizers,
international communication developers and discerners,
public and private therapeutic dialogue facilitators,
health lobbyists and economists,
all recognize that where one ends up
is hugely and persistently boundaried
by where and when and why one starts.

Business As Usual
does not trust mutual subsidiarity
except in embryonic through innocent young child incarnations,
with DNA-driven original ecosystemic norms 
of fractal-complementary fold/unfold thermodynamic balance.

But my more permacultural business as usual
begins with diversely entwined
mutually defining and enriching,
protecting and promoting,
grassroot and vision-seed investors,
wisely trusting our multicultural anthrocentric planning process 
and nutrition-balancing budget.

My PermaCulture Trust in integral,
holistic,
and sacred principles of complementarity
operates under and within geometric,
biometric,
systemic primal relationship assumptions
of kosmic original intent:
We are all poli-economically within this Golden Rule Universe together.
Everyone,
regardless of species or ecosystemic dialect and rhythm of identity,
is a potential Golden Rule PermaCultural Ally,
CoMentor
in a (0)-core landscaped Universe.

Metaphor and story,
analogy and biology,
ecology and teleology and theology,
syllogisms and algorithms
mutually comprehend this eternal moment's orthopraxis
of (0)-footprint bicameral co-empathic trust.

This radical and profound active trust
is our complementary faith
in time's unfolding nutritional balance,
our understory of pedagogical deep-learning structures
found within religion,
ecology,
trees,
minds as also bodies,
moments and days and years and centuries of evolving history,
ReGenerative Open EcoSystemic Design.

If this PermaCulture word had been visible to Bucky Fuller,
writing about synergetic bio- and eco-systems,
he might have entitled his universalist prosepoetry
and design scriptures
PermaCultural System Design and Development.

When Thomas Kuhn's Problem of Incommensurability
points to
Solutions of CoEmergent MultiParadigmatic MultiRegenerational Commensurability,
then I recognize dissonance
within a more resonant meta-paradigm
as more than hopeless suffering.

We act in cooperative trust
that dissonant
notnot
Absence of Potential Resonance,
feelings of poli-economic longing for relational resolution,
become our teachers of opportunities 
to avoid monocultural-trending climatic ego-identity crises.

Noticing absence of fully matured relational trust
unveils potential for more deeply integrating
exegetical truths of mutual subsidiarity 
with eisegetical agapic-beauty of complementary vocations.

Why settle for self or other;
not healthy-wealth WinWin?



Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |

Certain diseases seem to be more prevalent in some races than others
So with no other issues in your family health care history
You still may have risk factors for several diseases
Just by belonging to a particular ethnic group

African Americans
Have an increased risk for diabetes
Insulin resistance
Have the highest heart-disease risk for high blood pressure

Asian American
Have an increase risk for osteoporosis (especially women)
Caucasians
Have an increase risk of osteoporosis (especially women)

Litinos
Have an increase risk for diabetes
Insulin resistance
Are over 6x more likely to develop kidney disease if diabetic

Native Americans
Have an increase risk for diabetes
Insulin resistance
6x more likely to develop kidney disease if diabetic

2022015

Copyright © Jacqueline R. Mendoza | Year Posted 2015