Sunday, July 11, 2010

The Poem As A Spell

I have returned to this side of things. I had a good visit but my health is still an issue so I am not so happy. I use drugs to hammer at the problem but wind up with other side effects that I don't like. I am grateful for one more day off before I return to work. I have so far this time only lost one day of work with this trouble.

I don't think the doctors have anything for this. They never have yet, not in my childhood, not in my adult years. The allergies are lifelong, just worse now that I am older. To say it like that seems so minor but choking is no joke, nor is the bloodpressure rise in my chest and head in a long paroxysm of uncontrolled coughing. I can sometimes shout it out, use anger to match and control it. Then after a day of this shit I am exhausted, and I have to pace through the day. Heat makes it worse. Air conditioning makes it worse. Winter makes it worse. WTF. In other words I can't do anything that really makes it better but end up in the right part of the world (where the fuck is that?? and why won't it hold still so I can find some place??) or live like the boy in the bubble. Kill me now. That's a better alternative than the boy in the bubble. I had enough of that shit already. I vowed I was not going to live like that when I moved away from home and it worked my whole adult life, but now this shit has returned. I refuse to live like that. It is stupid and shameful (I don't care how insane that sounds; it's really how it feels) and much too hard to do. It shows completely what the real state of things are. If I can't live here in simple ways, just getting along, then I shouldn't be here. I surely don't think it is worth struggling to stay. Often at the end of a paroxysm of uncontrolled coughing, I am so overfilled with Oxygen that the breathing reflex stops and I don't breathe for a time while I am getting my shit back together. That's because I almost go unconscious every time and do go unconscious sometimes. That was the state I was in back in January on the road to the chiropractor when I had my accident and hit a telephone pole. It feels really good to not breathe in those aftermath times. I start again and notice I did not miss it. This is just how it is.

We all have troubles.

The Poem As A Spell

An incantation
to implant your old home world
into us from street
to summer hot street
worked by spinning and turning
and the thrumming beat,
a younger magic
than is your own land
itself, once land of shamans
older than we will
ever be,


  1. {{{Christopher}}}

    I am so sorry the allergies are doing this to you... This is when it is hard on the Internet. To know someone you love is suffering and to be only words in a box...

    The poem as a spell... if that would work what words would I try to write now? I believe in spells, I think. I believe in so many things that make no sense at all...

    In my own way...I am saying a prayer for your breathing...

    with love,


  2. can i join?
    Oh sweetheart, i wish you were not in so much pain.
    Your poem i magic.
    i take the last word, rip it up in tiny pieces, pulverize, add a drop of honey, make an ointment, you go to the core of the place where it hurts most and gently i apply this salve.

  3. Do you know, last week I was in a bit of a sadness and I thought, well, any sadness as long as I have my health. If my body works then I will get through. By the end of the week my body had given up and I was nothing but exhausted. I hit at my legs as though they were meat and I said, Ah, yes, and now I don't see the sadness, and now I don't have enough to carry on. And all of this was so small for me, but felt so large. I suppose I'm just acknowledging that I understand. We need strength in these body vessels so that we might brave the rest of it.

    I shivered through your not breathing, Christopher, as though I could see it. I saw your calm.

    But still, of course, but still, I wish you repair and peace.


  4. You all leave me kindness and an amazing display of honesty. There is no patronizing here. Thank you.

  5. I wish I had some words of comfort for you - some way of physical comfort for you. All I have is my caring for this friend you have become. If good wishes could help, you would be a well man.

    I think I told you once before that my mother had something similar and had to have surgery on her sinus. While her coughing hasn't stopped altogether, it is much lessened. You might seek an MRI of the sphenoid sinus. That turned out to be her problem.


  6. Thank you for your kindness, Karen. When I had the MRI done years ago during the time of my chronic bacterial infections there we decided there was not enough oddness in the sinus to merit surgery. Eventually the bacterial infection outgrew itself and went away.

    This particular trouble this time did not start in the sinus but in my chest.


The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

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