Long Ingesting Poems
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Addicts injecting, ingesting,
and inhaling their drugs.
It's a dangerous life,
trying to keep pace with the thugs.
The addict uses,
and pays dearly for the sin.
The disease,
effects all, it's under his skin.
The trenches are full,
of front-line soldiers affected by addiction.
The city and the state scream,
it's not their jurisdiction.
Addiction is not a choice,
that one makes,
They ended up,
addicts by mistake.
Addicts are not
moral failures,
Their wounded warriors'
drugs are their inhalers.
They are not,
week of character,
Dealing with emotional pain,
they hit a barrier.
Addiction is the reaction,
to emotional pain.
It's cradle to grave,
in the fast lane.
98% of addicts,
were harmed when they were young.
They often have,
mental issues and are high-strung.
Using drugs,
is an attempt to deal with the issues.
Without proper guidance,
the addict continues.
Something went wrong,
a long time ago,
From that day on,
it's been touch and go.
Shame, guilt,
I must be a bad kid,
When your young,
the pain stays hid.
It festers up,
much later in life,
It affects all
you, your kids and your wife.
You are not fully aware,
of this inner shame,
When you find it,
where do you put the blame?
You go crazy,
trying to figure out what to do,
You attempt suicide,
you trying to kill you……
Turbo1904
I see that acacia tree
and I get vacuumed back to the past.
When we both had
a different type of light in our eyes,
with the reflections of that clear brook
evident in our irises,
where we thought that the
sun only revolved around us, and us alone.
We thought we knew better,
or did we?
Did we truly know anything at all?
My heart gurgles a bit,
as it chokes, bleeding on memories...
I am beside myself,
and I look so stupid,
hugging that tree,
a lifeline to what was.
I envy that tree, for its sturdiness,
its roots being so deep-seated,
so much unlike us,
easily broken, swayed, uprooted.
I loathe that tree,
for it still blooms,
blushing with its bright pink flowers
so delicate-looking and beautiful.
So unlike myself.
I feel ugly now. I actually am.
With hate and guilt eating at me from my core,
how could I not be?
I am rotten.
I am corroded.
From the looks of it,
I seem to have drunk from that
brook (now polluted), ingesting the trash
strewn there
I just never knew how much filth there was.
I am not infallible.
I thought you were.
But I was wrong. Dead wrong.
You tried to pull me up, but
became too heavy for you...
I dragged you down with me,
so deep, too deeply
that I had to bury you.
Along with my heart and soul,
which have both turned into stone.
I am stoned.
Yes, I feel so heavy,
so heavy I wish someone
would bury me,
throw me in the sea
so I could sink to the bottom and be forgotten.
Or better yet,
is there a magic pill
being sold somewhere
that can make me go back—
Start all over
and do things over?
What I would give
to recapture that light,
to have you back
but I know it is too late.
You’ve gone already.
Left me...
Or so I thought.
I always had the tendency to be wrong,
and it had never felt so great.
I turn around
and a different kind of light
kindles my I(rise)s.
Like that acacia,
I bloom again.
My stomach
and lower core rumblings
and dis-communionations
hope for some further feeding
consuming way
to not merely tolerate
but gratefully digest
what my gut
won't easily
organically appreciate
and comfortably eliminate
Can only traumatically depreciate
Has trouble resonantly ingesting
what eyes and mouth
salivate to masticate.
Chewing
swallowing massive trauma
to consumers so enlightened
and healthily empowered
we cannot bow
to southern fried chicken-wing
mighty bite makes digestive right
toxic dogma
not nature-spirited
indigenously bright
Confused by preachy facile spirits
inexperienced with deep resilient peace
digestive therapy
Not ingesting further
poison punishments
Blames
and shames
against restoring strong stomach
and deeper digestive flowing innocence
Unconditional regard
for nutritionally healthy
nurturing
natured grateful spirits
Long experienced souls
avoiding win/lose congestion
indigestion
by choosing win/win
cooperatively immaculate re-conceptions
Well chewed
and communally swallowed
bread and wine
of full-bodied
root health chakra souls
exploring neuro-sensory communion
Anticipating panentheistic
intra/inter-personally wealthy
sacred pre-inceptions.
Righteousness
It is ignoble to drench thought with evil manipulation
succumb by ingesting the inebriating poison
Ambition infuses ideas controls decision
muster a master planned destination
Humility enfold like an umbilical cord
restoring vigor curtailing cruelties untold
Being born is a treasure nurture life not gold
righteousness a most vital shield for this abused world
08/22/2020
11:45 a.m.
Lake Worth, Florida
USA
Brewed from a secret recipe
Nearly two hundred years old
Guarded by the family
Almost valuable as gold.
Using aromatic herbs from
Forty three different Nations
Gathered and despatched
From their various locations.
Distilled in Rheinberg
Forty four percent ABV
Guaranteed pure and
Contamination free.
Bottled labelled wrapped
in distinctive brown twist
Placed prominently by the bar
Where it just can’t be missed.
This miraculous infusion,
This real drinkers friend,
Has brought many a hangover
To a warm and pleasant end.
Very soon after ingesting
The upset is gone
And so for the dedicated
The drinking carries on.
For services to humanity,
For keeping drinking folk alive,
For all their essential work
May FamilyUnderberg thrive.
I can’t understand why
Much to my surprise
They have never ever been
Granted a Nobel Peace Prize
God forbids man from eating blood
Ever since He had told Noah;
He said what foods were just allowed
To be consumed on that era.
Israelites were also banned
From ingesting blood of livestock;
They should bury the red fluid
From the adult beasts from the flock.
The apostles just taught the same
On the age of Christianity;
The main reason is blood is life,
As spoken by the Almighty.
It is the blood that truly makes
An atonement for human soul;
It is for faith and not for meal,
As followed by chosen people.
Christ's blood is just necessary
For all to gain God's great kingdom;
The bull’s blood that filters flesh is
The shadow of good things to come.
I Control Nothing
Written: by Miracle Man
1-2-2019
I am but an occupant of the moment,
Ingesting pills that empower me through my day.
Each moment is like a blast of wind blowing leaves.
It's as if I sit hopelessly by the roadside,
without purpose, unable to fathom what comes next.
As I delve into clouds of the past,
Colorful thoughts rush by,
But some, have pallid colors now faded by time.
From the corner of my mind come wandering thoughts,
As specters of future time to haunt me.
Truth has become overshadowed by faux news,
And while God gave me no control over anything,
I can't escape the feeling of being “blessed and highly favored.”
Bludgeoning gray towers randomly spread, ingesting the living in their walls and beds.
Skeletal dragons seen through Cervantes eyes yet no whirling windmills in Manchester's skies.
A flag flutters freely where the wind takes it mind, red white and fading as this nation unwinds.
Yesterdays grandeur all around now unseen, cowering in the shadows cast by the greedy and obscene.
Lip service is paid to placate guilty minds but the monsters still rise leaving all beauty behind.
Natures sounds scarcely heard in this city so crass, no foxes no deer no style no class.
A symptom of time, progress and decay, with more mouths to feed and so little pay
And the final betrayal by kinsmen of ours, majority counts for nought and the 3 lions cower.
Self serving parties spewing arrogant polices arrogant buffoons and arrogant half truths, serving their pay masters the rich and aloof.
Looking forward I see with the vision of the blind, democracy is dying as this once great nation sighs. .
Once upon an eternal sacred time of Earth's Golden Age,
Yin knew her body as a divinely virginal forested place
given equally to all for and of Earth's holy
wondrous
regenerativity.
She, without language,
but with marvelously round holonic symmetry
and multisensory proportion,
recreated prolifically organic
panentheistic nurture systems
Bilateral crown/root shade trees
of cobinary up/down energies
with mutually subsidiary synergy
Ingesting/Digesting icons of Earth's
convexly articulating,
quadrilateral light/power octaved
health-naturing non-dissonant communication
Prime +1crown/-(-0)root co-relational
mind/body polyvagally cobinary
up/down double-binding
ego/eco-logical balance
of sacred/organic neurosystems
perceiving/receiving
polyvagal win/win resonance
Universally positive/positive 1-LeftYang
numeration
OVER
denominatively unitarian
double-negative 0- RightYintegrity
Yin's dualdark left/right
reflecting Yang's up/down
nondual dialectical .spirit/nature
mind/body
crown/root
enlightening empowerment tao-circle.
Elder Matriarchal YinRight embodied feelings
and Younger Patriarchal YangLeft disembodied thoughts were,
and remain,
happiest and healthiest
compassionately co-pleasured together
And cognitively-thought v intuitively-felt dissonant
when Yang remains adolescently uppity,
believing His superior sacred brain
over-rules His inferior, merely organic
neurosystemically mindless body
Too often His anthropocentrically monotheistic state,
dissociating Yin's RightBrained pantheistic outflowing
growing grace
Sacredly organic
ecological bodies
conjoined in circlingcrown/root
polyvagal dances
to LeftBrain's deepest resonant songs,
poetry of embodied crown/root flow,
Earth's ecosystemic up-lightened
democratic down-powerment.
Go tell it on Earth's mountain:
this Crown/Root of ChosenAnthro
co-redemptively reborn Bodhisattva PeaceWarriors
of Earth's Post-Messianic in/out-flowing
upper-mind/lower-body caste-abolishing
global climate of enlightened/empowering peace.
In this moment,
Can I give you a piece,
If only a morsel of my thoughts?
Would you tide them over,
With your own stormy thoughts?
Or would you ride mine like waves,
And let the depths take you?
Let me be myself,
And I promise I will fly beside you
Unto skies you only dream on peaks of ecstasy
Upon highlands gleaming with hope’s reverie
Would you find these words too overcast for ingesting,
Or in a heartbeat, would you swallow me whole,
Into a weather out-weathered?
Internalize this song,
Forever and always!
Let me be myself,
And you will find the path toward light
Toward the beaten route of stranger words
That seek beauty over other worlds
-For my friend, Richard