Long Prescribe Poems
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A "Highly" Debated Issue
From glaucoma to chemotherapy
Medical marijuana has its place
But you won’t find any prescribed
In the conservative Sunshine State
Chris couldn’t eat while under treatment
Watched him lose one-hundred pounds
He had no access to an appetite stimulant
His weight was 85 when laid in the ground
Hefty Jen had lived a life of kindness
Taught spiritually uplifting courses
She suffered when chemo raced through her system
Until people said, “How beautifully slim her corpse is.”
When Dad’s glaucoma grew severe
He relied only on eye drops that made him tear
His gift of sight was taken slowly
Though THC might have helped his eyes clear
And when I first wrestled with ulcerative colitis
A college friend brought me a joint, said, “Try it”
Less than an hour later I was eating without pain
But laws are clear, Florida doctors can’t prescribe it
Research has proved there are benefits
Only medical marijuana use can provide
But those who worry about drug abuse
Say those who could benefit should be denied
Each day in the headlines we read of drunk drivers
Mostly teens who seek access through friends
And if they want marijuana, they find a way to get it
But for those who abide by laws, agony never ends
If smoking pot or ingesting a tablet of THC
Can help a person who is suffering great pain
Don’t you think the time has come
To ask prohibitionists to explain
Why people who are hurting needlessly
Cannot have access to any remedy
That soothes their aches, improves their last days
Diminishing the symptoms of their tragedy
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2010
Why I love C.D’s poem “ A Highly Debated Issue”:
Carolyn Devonshire’s poems showcase the extraordinary thoughtful mind behind those lines. All of Carolyn’s poems are profound, and full of depth, but this poem especially touched me - I had the similar experience of losing a beloved one to the deadly disease, and we were not able to give him relief during the last days of intense pain. Carolyn was a strong, sensitive, generous, caring human being and a talented poetess, who loved life in her own way - she loved sand, and left her footprints on the shores of this mysterious earth.
Celebrating Carolyn’s poetry: an Uncontest Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Posed such, in its formidable array
would guess that all protection in refer
not deem my soul respectively, relay
but from some archway's character of serve!
That guard of my esteem, not turning gray
is from some inner peace, not just of nerve
the loyalty I've bridged by my own stay
now chances not its entry as conserve.
For naught the times, nor beckoning's concur
that shoulder decorated stood its ground,
some rite of passage, measures not impure
or guesses at my fancy, or my frowned!
How steady in some answer of reserve
would guarantee its effort, so unbound,
that resolution's comfort not deserve
or its entailment daily ne'er impound!
Is freedom such an answer, I not need
when life holds such encumbrance up her sleeve,
prescribe me not, in entities concede
but brave begot ~ a childhood of bereave!
The Sentry, grasp the plot ~ remit, receive
to bear it all, a blossom of Faith's core
that from behind, attacks are so conceive
the narrowing's remind, an open door!
The harrowing of purging not refined
a net of undeniable content,
the message straight from cowardly assign
and from its framework, instigates resent!
That Hell be guarded once, and so confined
the nature of the whore that so compels,
is tempting of man's nature, so inclined
and reconciles its effort, "all is well!"
And so it be, prerogative regress
is functioned only lightly to incline
to rob my thought, my enemies redress
and matter less, to only spend my time!
Forfeits agenda, reconciles, climbs
that merit of dissension leaves encore,
all but that host's dimension steeps unbind
revolving with ascension ~ perish more ~
And tumbles its direction ~ out of line!
To be continued ~ The Sentry Rhymes ~ Dangerous times.
Note ~ Guard duty is one of the most sensitive, and loyal of commitments.
Such as that of a noble entity, a queen, an endangered person, or even
a family, spouse, children. Today our protection needs to be more loving,
more personal & caring, not back turning, and avoiding. Our own National
Guard need to be here, at home, on board, with their reason intact, and not
forged from some idealistic, protectionist bourgeois ~ needing to be
everywhere else!
Such joy I feel as I awaken, a brand new day ahead
My soul so full of expectation leaping from my bed
For today I am pursuing, my greatest love my hobby
With Grandma’s brooch pinned on my coat
I wave goodbye my spirits high, to folks I pass
outside at last, I exit through the lobby
As I hop and I skip trying hard not to slip
So full of elation I arrive at the station
Sitting back in my seat whilst resting my feet
Let the train take the strain, hope for sunshine not rain
Such historical grandeur can be seen in our city
Plus the noise and the grime, inevitable such a pity
We cross a London bridge spanning old Father Thames
Dreaming of the fun to come whilst seeking hidden gems
A feeling of euphoria is making me quite dizzy
Embarking at Victoria, my goodness it’s so busy
With my ticket in my hand as I stroll along the Strand
A trip to the theatre, well there’s really nothing better
My anticipation rising, well it isn’t so surprising
As I enter the theatre an usher guides me to my seat
I am soaking up the auras of the souls long gone before us
And relaxing in my comfy pew await this special treat
The drapes are looking sumptuous, rich and velvet, long and red
As I wait for them to part to see the magic that’s ahead
The excitement it is palpable sends shivers down my spine
When the curtains draw back slowly and the spotlight starts to shine
The show begins, transporting me way back into the past
When the music plays much louder, my heart it beats so fast
But finally the end is nigh, my spirit is still on a high
So buoyant and emotional and sad I have to say goodbye
Returning to the stage the Thespians bowing one by one
The audience cheering loudly for the fine work they have done
As slowly I begin to leave this famous London theatre
Wishing I could visit weekly, as my soul would feel much better
For my hobby and my passion is becoming my addiction, so for this
my Doctor should prescribe a weekly ticket on prescription
Written 28th January 2019
Hobbies Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
6th place
Contest Brian's Select 3
Sponsor Brian Strand
3rd Place
I'll share with all of you on this subject all I've got.
You see, I think I'm Schizophrenic but I'm not.
You've heard it said so many times before
that if you think you're crazy rest assured,
you most probably, certainly are not.
Those with such extreme ailments of the mind lack the ability to define what's crazy and
what is not.
So just to be sure I'll say it once more. I'm Schizophrenic. There I said it, so I'm not.
Am I Schizophrenic to see the many things that disturb me
here in what normal people call reality?
The major corporate pharmaceutical companies are a multi billion dollar industry.
They're making billions of dollars off of others much like me
for their investors, stock holders and the CEO's of the companies.
Very little money goes back into legitimate research of the medical community.
Their motives are for profit not to help others like me.
If they cured us all, profits would fall. Next stop bankruptcy.
They keep us believing while they continue their feeding us meds that there's a possible cure
in a pill.
Better yet, a combination of medication would be their more preferable prescription for you
to fill.
Most if not all prescription drugs will pretty much guarantee
annoying side effects be they mild or severely.
There really isn't any need for you to worry though.
They'll prescribe for you anti side effect medication before you go
make your next appointment to come and see them again, so they can prescribe more pills
and draft more bills over and over again.
Do you sometimes fear that there's not a sincere effort coming from them
to find a real cure or true treatment to help you with my friend?
Oh-oh, do you smell a conspiracy
or am I just being paranoid like a schizophrenic ought to be?
It's been a while since I said it. I better give it another shot.
I'm Schizophrenic. There, I said it again, so once again I am not.
Medication for me has never ever done the trick.
It just makes me nauseous, leaving me feeling very sick.
I'm proud to say that I'm currently 100% medication free.
I now deal with my pain naturally.
The world of a writer
The world of a writer, like a caretaker
Who is in charge for administration
To travel to and fro the yet to happen
Bringing the mind down the memory lane
And warning for the things yet to happen
He is like a prophet in other people's worlds
Assuming the feeling of what others go through
He is a career of incredible motivations
He writes what he Imagines
Relay the things witnessed
Share the situations passed through
His brain, wired to his pen
He thinks 20miles ahead of other
Visiting other planets to get breaking news
His profession, hard to bypass
Or which project is better executed if not penned?
Show me a professional that write not
And I will show you a mathematician that count not
A writer is more than an actor
For he remains the better interpreter of his story
He is stronger than a soldier
Because pen is mightier than sword
He is more than a celebrity
Because his pen can make or Mar a celebrity
He is a better career of information
Hidden from the earshot of others
He dictates for all readers what to be aware of
For it is better written than said
A vision not written is a vision forgotten
Writers are the salt of every discoveries
The picture for painters to paint
Describers of the drugs doctors prescribe
The documents engineers refer to for help
Case studies for all the government
And the teacher of all human rights
The three minutes expended to read a piece from a writer
Is like the one-tenth of his own production time
Appreciate all the writers across the world
If truly your life will be a mess without reading
Shout out to all my fellow writers and fans
That we write it doesn't mean it happens to us
It is just the revelation of other people's world
Read all readable.... Life is a mess without reading
"all writers are readers but not all readers are writers"
".....a writer travels round the world even at a spot, in his confined quiet room"
Mr Legend
The blessings of grace come down
to bring change deep within
so not to be what I once was
in God's grace, Christ has come in
Dimly it's hard to recollect
but to be clear on Christ alone
a great sinner am I, but praise God
my sins, my saviour did atone
God pours out His loving kindness
showing His pleasure to HIs own
for I don't seek this loving Lord
but this Lord of love picks us alone
This Lord sees all our mistakes
despite that, He pours out HIs grace
in His providence in our lives
works it for His glory before our face
My love that I feel for Christ
is such a feeble, faint spark
but it truly is divinely sent
as its effect has clearly left its mark
My God is so lovely and caring
For He kindles it and keeps it alive
It's God's work to hold me true
waters can't quench it for it to thrive
God works in His marvellous providence
through a course He would prescribe
though contrary to my narrow view
His purposes work out to be of its tribe
(This is based on seven quotes from the pen of John Newton on Grace, the author of the great hymn 'Amazing Grace', which follow below.)
1) I am not what I ought to be, I am not what I want to ne, but I am not what I hope to be in another world, but still I am not what I once used to be, and by God's grace I am what I am.
2) Although my memory's fading, I remember two things very clearly: I am a great sinner and Christ is a great Saviour.
3) He has been pleased in loving kindness to draw us to himself, and to be found by us when we sought HIm not.
4) We serve a gracious Master who knows how to overrule even our mistakes to His glory and our own advantage..
5) The love I bear Christ is but a faint and feeble spark, but it is an emanation from himself.
6) He kindles it and he keeps it alive; and because it is his work, I trust many waters shall not quench it.
7) God often takes a course for accomplishing His purposes directly contrary to what our narrow views would prescribe.
Twenty-two
and our School Boards
are hoppin
Madly divided
'bout race
and white saving face
in-between fashion shoppin.
Dear Red and Blue
School Board Candidates,
Regarding Critical Race Theory
that ignores our own lack
of multiculturing experience,
Perhaps a primally significant reason
we have issues
discussing racial divisions
throughout historical seasons
of revision
Textbooking Straight White Patriarchal treasons
against EarthTribe's polycultural humanity,
Sacred celebrating multicultural divinity
once felt as synergetic
universal Beauty,
Continues to divide
and conquer
our best LeftBrain schooled dominions,
Is because rich violent red
patriotic bloodshed
is difficult to own
within our own fascist
unmatriarchal histories
Of capitalized ownership
and encultured Earth corrupting
supremely anthro-worshiping
lack of healthy eco/theological
green stewardship
through co-empathically felt
relationship.
Red candidates predict
Critical Race Theory
becomes a cynical prescription
for an inevitable future
of win/lose
zero-sum unfolding
Continuing Business As Usual
White versus Black
reverses White,
While Blue candidates refocus
on Critical Race personal experiences
of historical individuals
investing in divested
separated
divided communities,
privileged versus unprivileged
polarized nations,
degenerate climates
of active distrust
in our apartheid studied past,
Not to prescribe an inevitable future
of rightwing supported hate,
but to describe our win/lose racist past
To inform a therapeutic win/win potential future
humanely balanced,
multiculturally healthy
for our democratic
planetary future.
Twenty-two
and our School Boards
are hoppin
Mad
divided 'bout race
and white saving face
in-between fashion shoppin.
Well, your Mama Eartha's rich
and your Papa's Sun
shines bright enlightenin,
So, hush co-despisin,
don't you,
won't you try?
Yesterday Richard inspired me to write this update. Thank you Richard.
To Be More
3 days of this virus, feels like 3 weeks
Every hour a battle, as minutes flit by
Extreme cycles of hot and cold, ongoing
Losing track of a neutral temperature
Headaches, nausea and chest pain
But mainly the tiredness and exhaustion
Doing minimal things can wipe you out
It feels like it's an effort to think, to breathe
Energy you may use to bring in loads of wood,
It can take that much, to write something like this
Thankfully, I only lost all my breath once
Having to sit down a while to get air back again
But doctors who call daily are still concerned,
I may need more later, so they prescribe inhaler
I am seperate some from my pets I love most
As I try to keep taking care of them in ways advised,
Wearing a mask, washing hands, some distancing
They don't understand and that breaks my heart
But, I am making it and they are making it
Every hour, I think, I survived another hour
I have had serious health issues in the past
But, this is certainly different and my body is at war
A constant cycle of juice, water, vitamins, food, tylenol
Filling my body with all I can to fight and survive this
Because, here, there is no treatment and it's up to me
It is a roller coaster, just after a lift, there is a fall again
Sometimes I feel like I'm dying when crashes happen
But, I am winning!
I won, the prize of seeing a beautiful sunrise this morning
And hearing multiple birds sing happily outside in my yard
I am winning every time this thing knocks me down and I get back up!
Driven to do more, write more, reach more, be more!
Thank you all
Heidi Sands
4/10/20
In addition, with only using internet from data on cell phone and losing a signal, it gets difficult getting things into soup, without having to enter it multiple times. So for now, that is in my way too. Take care everyone :)
The instructor said,
Go home and write
a page tonight.
And let that page come out of you--
Then, it will be true.
I wonder if it’s that simple?
I am twenty, an average girl, born in Chicago.
I went to school there, then here, Florida.
Fifteen years, I’ve been to school
Two more, I still got
Before I’m done and in school again
But by that time, I’ll be the teacher
It’s not easy to know what is true for you or me
There are so many theories
So many philosophies
Well, just five
But that’s enough when you’ve got to prescribe to one
or two
or three
or four
or all five
At twenty, my age, I’ve suffered them all
Teacher-centered essentialist classrooms
Rows of students paralyzed in fear at no kitten but rather
Of a rather fat cat dressed up in a test booklet
I’ve been a victim of perennialists
Holding within a “great book” a great book.
For all the eyes behind her head,
Teacher couldn’t see my copy
Of Angus, Thongs, and Full-Frontal Snogging inside of my copy of The Iliad
One day I walked into a progressive classroom
The teacher put us all in groups
We built a robot and learned
About torque, levers, and voltage
I’ve been privy to social reconstruction
Now that is motivation
To seek and find a problem
Then to seek and find an answer
My mind was never idle in that class
In the class of an existentialist
I drank cool water
She let us be
And was our friend
Being me, I can never be you
Or Ms. Wild
Or Ms. Green
Or Mr. Melvin
Or Ms. Kilic
Or Ms. Miller
I can only be me
And with being me, I will carry every philosophy
I am product of them all
Of the tests
And old books
Of the group work
And activism
Of the simple, free classroom that played my kind of music and turned me into Da Vinci
For an hour
I’ve learned from all of them
I guess they all learned from me
And now we’ve both got something true
A living, flowing, breathing philosophy
This is my page for Special Topics
Form:
We are farmers without hoes and cutlasses
Dancing the stupid song of poverty
Push us back and forth, we follow
Once in the farmland, we does nothing than sleeping.
Under the farmstead snoring provokely.
Have you seen the precious example we've laid.
We are men of war without arsenals
We are doctors without stethoscope
Our heart tell us heart breathing of patients
We see when we don't see
Servants to the patients who prescribe drugs themselves
We only give false prophecy which they believed in.
With us manoeuvrings medical laws Bad mannered of manifestation of the heartbeat
We sing hilariously to make people happy
But remained sad
Always caught in the webs of sin
We are teachers without chalk and pen
Teaching what we don't know
Educating students to become fools as we are.
Push us back and forth, we follow
Fools with no destination and self esteem
The sings parrot is better off than us
Because it knowth where to stop in the high pitch of its song Which we knowth not
We are drivers without vehicle
Come on board we take you to hell
On the street we roam about hopeless not speechless
Our heads abroad but legs a home
We only give ears to those who call us friends
Whether in advantage or disadvantage
Perhaps that is why the pseudo democrats, corrupt leaders,
office loafers, and dubious leaders
Use us as political animals
We are husbands with no wives
Pupils with no books and Biro
Come, we teach you our singing styles
What you don't know about us
The singing fools we are
Black sheep of the nation
Rotten shinning fragrance eggs
Able bodied but foolish mind
We mislead and deceive young teens
Destroy and vandalizing properties
Truth is far from us
We bury ourselves in the same foolishness
Betray our own honest and truths
In the quest for foolish fame and wealth.