Natural
Normally we should have
Non discriminating tastes but
Neuropsychiatrists have proven that our
Nasopharynx has evolved tastebuds and our
Noses odor receptors which can provide a
Natural defense against
Nano toxins and allow for
Nonbelligerent molecules to enter our bodies. One would think this would be
Newsworthy and a scientific article would be written for the magazine
Nature because it is
Nondenominational in its scientific approach and is
Neutral in its reporting. But this
Newfangled idea will have
No appeal to the
Nonreader and those who
Need to read this article will
Not get the chance to read this important information as it will considered
Nonessential.
humble feet and serving hands
entwine as energy bands
bliss pierces body vectors
all nodes willing receptors
there is no doing we do
as rapture does so renew
tip of nose joins the dance
towards whom we shyly glance
such then is our ordained fate
feeling how chakras gyrate
each breath ushering bliss rise
beheld in childlike surprise
ADDICTION
Some argue about the definition
We’ve all seen many a depiction
Smokers, junkies, and others too
There’s many a conflicting view
But whether habit is an addiction
At least, I take my own position
There are receptors in the brain
And chemicals that do stimulate
It’s difficult to determine pleasure
But with study, one can measure
In society, less acceptable of late
But it’s easy to just light up again
To break the cycle is the intention
Smoking is promoted as obscene
The simplest solution lies with tax
But, does anyone know the facts
Yet stuff more toxic than nicotine
On the streets with little mention
Addiction can be a lifelong battle
Drink and drugs a common theme
Yes, we need to better understand
It stays popular even when banned
Stopping it now is merely a dream
Just listen to the prison bars rattle
Hello kids it me again back to share my own lifes gleanings.Been sick as a
Sick dog.I am mourning,heartbroken and dealing with one assault on the body after another .This weeks guest Norwalk virus.You aint lived till you have embraced this near death experience.No exageration.Stomach cramps so severe unable to stand homoerectus.Thought I had threw my midback out during one attempted 8 second ride of gastronomic convulsions.Linda Blair had nothing on my performance.Dry heaves so bad I feared turning inside out like an item prepared for the wash as my mind toyed with the idea of just passing out.Fought this as aspiration not on my to do list.
Diaphram still sore to the touch and inching my way into real food.News flash if any have or know of anybody suffering in similar fashion tell them no dairy for at least two weeks as the receptors to handle it last to come back on line in the gut.And how have you been ?
Air laden
with the fecundity of spring,
sweet, powdery life brushing every
passing wing and foot stalled
on a budding stem,
receptors greedily unfurled
in vast arrays
to snare pollen dancing
on a breeze
though leaving too much
to float my way and be wasted
on a sneeze.
Master of probabilities,
inventor of worlds poised
before being collapsed
into the real,
hovering almost
in a perpetual quantum state.
Where are You ?
Are you hiding
in a fuzzy cloud of words,
beneath a clever disguise
of masks or have you simply
broken yourself down
into elemental parts
and scattered them throughout
the parallel worlds
of your poems which,
like crazy mirrors, stretch
and strangely entertain
the receptors in our
dimensionally challenged brains.
A baby is a bundle of jangling receptors
a limb-wiggling curiosity machine
Equipped to record and retain every sensation
with nodes and neurons labyrinthine
We watch her nap and feed
pray she gets the sleep she needs
While deep inside her, a learning explosion
moves mighty mountains, fills vast oceans
Twig twists intersect then spread victory
Receptors sprout cat waving paws
Fold fruit bowl foliage, branch tributary
Lump eye timber columns support
Steer me clear of thatch caged cluster
Cheerleader twirling ribbons sizzle
Shifted to soft focus forest, fairy dusted
In drifting dandelion seed celestial
Thrown down overlap of toasty tobacco
Crinkle constant joke cracked faces
Humour grants razor slim grasses tackle
Unused nests during seasons' phases
Basket interweave splice strap sun poke
Probes timid shade a radiating halo
Lathered limbs in blossom shampoo soak
Crown me neath ghostly citrine glow
Sombre trots towards her restful rotunda
Floating pollen fluff Snugglepot ego
Fingers spring flags of woodland wonder
Grip ant gazette trail to safe gazebo
6th March
Exists in the middle
healing proffered
to unwilling receptors
pauses in the bardo
love employs no force
and so it waits
for eternity if needed
time yields to love
27-December-2022
He appears in a photograph of his life
there are no faces, nor anyone
who lived in a memory.
Images develop.
That long table was a smorgasbord
where he left only bones and crumbs.
There is a mirror on a transparent wall
behind it old men listen to lounge music
as they play cards.
The gamblers have his personal details
written on the same pocket notebooks
they keep score on.
Under the beer stained carpet
is an underlay of his history
he has seen the foot traffic come and go
his prints are everywhere.
He takes pictures, needing not to look at them
they were after all, all the same
just different venues, furnishings, landscapes.
Cigarette butts stuck into sand buckets,
line the walls of a diffuse composition
the place reeks of long nights
inside a nicotinic mind.
He photographs the cholinergic receptors
of his autonomic ganglia.
The exit is that way,
the door next to the empty fire extinguisher.
When he goes out
the fresh cold air burns all the negatives
in a Box Brownie.
At first you become aware
of the silence, the strange
quiet laying just beneath
a crust that cakes
the receptors of the soul.
Then slowly what surrounds
you begins to loosen.
Sounds filter through,
whisperings of movement
trickling out of the shadows,
part of song patched
onto a faint whoosh
of wings passing overhead
and the long notes
of the wind through wires
drawn out across time.
Something stirs, stretches
to unsheath nerves
anesthetized by sleep.
Beneath tall trees,
small fingers of light pick over
a scattering of dead leaves
as if looking for something
left there seasons ago.
(This write inspired by a poem by Panagiota Romios, "The Magic of The Night")
Though we think of ourselves as singular, we are also communal, drawing from communal consciousness. The flip-side, we are also distracted by the hustling, the strife of a working day. At night they dream...we write!~ their sleeping dreams, fantasies our dawns for inspiration, tuneful-receptors-firing-poetic-alive!
How is it possible
What is its secret
It has no eyes
It has no brain
No receptors
No signs of life
whatever
Yet here it is
This blank page
godlike
Staring a hole
into my soul
Rows of receptors positioned just so
to capture signals from galaxies aglow
Six decades, billions spent, not one signal yet
not a peep of protest nor an ounce of fret...
Signs and wonders we all see every day
of great changes in nature's immutable ways
Arctic whales in France, crocodiles on beaches
Who thinks about what this teaches
Oh! You crazy kids of war zone,
I hate your painful cries that pierce my heart just as pebble or stone.
Oh! You filthy creature who do survive amongst blood & cadevar so well,
In such danger & atrocities I wonder how do u dwell?
Oh! U disgusting children who still dream of food, dress & toys ;
'Perhaps u are devoid of pain receptors and emotions' , I think so! about u poor boys.
Those powerful leaders who think this way & could stop this evil of war, I don't know for what reason silent they do stay?
So I poetess "FaraHaseeb" took the courage to put fro this & dare to say.
But I feel for you darling children; that one day it's gona be your victory.
As lord of the lords knows your pain & he promises 'after every hardship is an ease' & that's not contradictory.
Oh! Poor kids may your ceremony of birth & death around the globe could be different,
But the pain u all undergo similar to me it always meant.
So just hold your patience & courage a bit more soon to the world your innocence n wound would be revealed,
& that day those white collared dirt would be exposed and to hide with fake dignity they won't be able to find any veil.
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