Subtle Longing Beneath

I wonder little about great mysteries

And tend to get sewn up in the stitching,

Fingering with care the delicate underthings -

Like silk threads slipping up and over sleeping breasts

moments catch each other – the breathtaking joy of

looking into my daughter’s newborn eyes – reminds me

how rain smells coming back to wet dry days -

and these happinesses get caught on each other

and weave me into life.

But if joys create delicate stalkings, soft lavender colored

chamois and rhinestoned lace garters

Then biting losses fix the outer garments of hard, resilient

woolen smocks tied from the backs of beasts,

Primitive, ancient necessity that wraps the fragile self

And covers the gentle, subtle longing beneath.

They say go ahead and cry

They say go ahead and cry

let it out

so I do like a wound up hose

forcing it to come through

They so I’ll feel better

when I walk away

step outside the shell of grief

but the tightness wants to return

the long, smoothe vessel

only knows the course the water takes

Thoughts on Impermanence

Life is full of impermanent people. They come, stand in our lives and move with us for a time. It seems, while they’re there, that they have always been. It seems that there was no time before them and that life would cease to exist without them. Consciousness is bound up in the joint existence of that other plus this self. We are whole being together – not things separate, not apart. Well then we come to learn of the truth and depth of impermanence. We learn it again and again. The lovers teach us the hardest of truths. They in physical, spiritual, emotional coupling co-create a secondary self that substitutes for what ever primary entity came before. And great passionate love is experienced there in that time of togetherness. Then gone as we never imagined they could be we stumble blindly, not only searching for them in the nothing and empty space, but grappling even for our own selves. We don’t recognize us, alone. Not so much do we blame them for leaving, perhaps they were caught up by the winds of fate, and could not be held onto. The storm comes and blows us all apart and away. Would that they could have stayed bound to the first day of love. Would we if we could rewind and reconceptualize the nature of human experience? No more impermanence and the fickle ways of fleeting time. Let’s freeze one second in forever and keep life still as a souvenir glass globe. God may get bored with such a creation, but please just place us without despair on the shelf.

Natural Cold Sore Cure – Formula SF722

I discovered purely by accident that a dietary supplement my doctor prescribed for candida cures cold sores. First it seems to stop them from growing, reduces them in size and helps the site heal faster. It may be a coincidence, but I have treated two lip sores with this stuff.

I used to get them like anybody else and have to wait for a week or two before the sore would reside and begin to heal. You know how horrible they are! The only thing that worked to cure them quickly was sometimes taking 3 days worth of Valtrex from a friend of mine with a script.

Anyway, I found this to work just as well!

Thorne’s Formula SF722 of 10-Undecenoic Acid.

Apparently the company hasn’t marketed it for this use. What a shame!

I ingested about 3 pills of SF722 per day when I had my cold sore. I also took vit B, vit D and flax oil in high doses.

The real action however seems to be from direct application. I lanced one of the gelcaps and applied the oil inside to the cold sore. Now the first time I did this I had a real nasty pus vessel on my lower lip that was affecting the skin beneath as well. It hurt a little bit as the sore shrunk and started to bleed. I noticed that instead of my little experiment aggravating the herpes, the whole thing just withered away.

The second time I got a cold sore I started the application at the first twinge. The sore never fully formed and all signs of it disappeared within 4 days. That’ actually excellent in the world of HSV I.

I really think that Thorne should do a study to see if others have this good of a result using their product for cold sores. Or maybe someone else can harness the healing powers of undecylenic acid.

(The two pictures were taken 10 days apart. During the ten days – May 1 to May 10 – I had two different cold sores break out back to back, not at the same time. No signs of either after treating with SF722.)

Sweetness of Sleep

Sweet pleasures I find in sleep

Drifting out and away from sadness

The closed door is a respite from grief

Where loss forgets its own presence

And time rolls back to pluck at happy moments

Lover, I remember your face

Have not neglected your soul

And in loosening constraints

Find new unrealities soften truth

That we all lost you

Upon Discovering Betrayal

I am tired of this episiotomy of a world

Cut in sacred places

Poets run and check the fields

Poets run and check

the fields muddied

there our blood waits for us

Wake up wordsmiths

and sharpen your tongues

for slaying

Charge the capitol on paperback

Pens drawn now and steady

hold til you see the whites of their presses

and we end this like it began -

with the Word

Good enough to sell?

Is this poetry good enough to sell? (not this one – the others!)

Does it say anything new or at least give the old

a fancy twist with life and color

what kind of perspective can you get from

a word lover who

grew up in a double wide in the woods

ran off to Russia at 12

graduated from a prestigious all-girls boarding prep school

and left college her junior year out of pride and contempt for policy

ran off to Russia again and nearly drank herself to death

fell in love with two women in two years

and graduated from massage school

who sported a red mohawk for one lonely night

became impregnated after quitting cigarettes

and moved to Seattle with her narcissistic boyfriend

where she got married and got fat

loved her baby and tried to make a go of giving up self for motherhood

went crazy from sleep deprivation and went to jail for domestic violence

who left a cheating man and found her true love on the internet

only he was a recovered drug addict who relapsed and spoiled the plan

so crushed and dust she turned inward and saw God

just sitting there eating grapes

marvelous and transformative

drove her to the ends of transcendence

lost and gained thirty identities

settled into Islam – sigh of relief

returned to poetry

with a sharper spade for digging

To the End

I stay up late

occupied with thoughts of you

inside the wasted, frail and failing form

That this life ends is not news

but how do we cope with transcendence?

My lover I leak fear and longing for your presence

like your body lets go of fluids

Is it too much to contain?

There is an emptying happening

violent, delirious, grinding time to a halt

and speeding up the one long second that

takes you to the end