Keep My Teeth (2)

A shocking piece of information, an article claiming
people suffering from arthritis should have all their
teeth with fillings and implants extracted  - the last
remains of teeth cut from the jawbone to prevent
venom of rotting calcium entering the system

I realised it was the Nigella effect – an email message
contrasting the beautiful fifty-year old cook who drinks
wine and eats butter and sugar versus the wrinkled old
lady looking a hundred years who recommends a lean
whole-wheat diet with frequent colonoscopies

We all saw what that did to her, I shall keep my teeth,
the amount of money spent on extractions can be used
to enjoy life instead of reducing living to pain before
finally dying, without teeth and with holes in my jawbone
I should wish to die immediately being an ugly crow


Directly quoted from
http://www.health-science-spirit.com/arthritis.html

“Dead teeth are even more dangerous than mercury amalgam fillings
and having two different kinds of metal in the mouth. Teeth with a
root canal filling, a post-crown and sometimes also teeth with large
fillings or pins are dead.
Dead teeth slowly disintegrate and cause a chronic osteitis with
softening and inflammation of the surrounding jawbone. Toxins
are continuously released into the surrounding tissue and blood
stream. This process may continue even after removal of a dead
tooth if the diseased bone is not curetted or scraped out back to
the healthy jawbone, or if any fragments of root or metal remain
embedded.”
Tuesday 30 July 2013

Strangle The Managers [REVISED]

Sitting at my desk content – perceptive my little
world is safe, my supervisor is laughter, kindness
and joy personified, my colleague efficient and
sweet, the office a joyful place, my fan on a chair
stirring the oxygen-less air

It’s my favourite afternoon place, colleagues
conferring on translations of children’s books
while admitting they cannot stand Alice In
Wonderland, it is too whimsical for their taste,
preferring Murder She Wrote because reading

About sweet revenge we are denied as hardy
government officials taking buildings falling
apart in our stride strengthens us to withstand
temptation to strangle managers not knowing
how to obtain a safe building for us…

Tuesday 30 July 2013

The Sahara Or Siberia [REVISED]

It is my wall against the sun, piles of all files,
handbooks or dictionaries  I can find stacked
along this desk – a tottering tower between the
heat and I, covered with a lime-green cloth
framing my pink flowers – an act

Of rebellion against this building with its
rotten pipes so repair of central air-con is
impossible, sentencing us to hell as the heat
of a warm winters sun increases – making
winter so delightful in a city where

Buildings like Kingsley Centre are sheer
stupidity, floors north-south with one air-con,
north facing a southern sun heats up while a
dark south quietly freezes; we’re wearing cool
summer clothes in the north as shivering

Southerners cover up in layers of coats and
scarves; my query is does being a government
official have to mean suffering in either the
Sahara or Siberia –it is a condition of service
which I do not understand…

Tuesday 30 July 2013

Cloud Of Your Impatience [REVISED]

Your unhappiness, anger as you fret about
frustration obliterates the sun, hides beauty
of every moment – worries following you
change my world into a dark and miserable
place, churning my stomach into a knot

I feel bad always, threatening ideas upsetting
you take joy from our life, you admit they’re
not really grave but you’re under its spell –
holding us in thrall, gloom follows us as you
move under the cloud of your impatience

If we could apply the advice of a spiritual
website, everybody should be independent
from each other, joy should be lodged in
one’s own heart without waiting for those
who allow their moods to turn into gloom

Yet it is not possible while we are such a
tight-knit little family

Monday 29 July 2013

Ecclesiastes And Death [REVISED]

Ecclesiastes says all is vain. While life per se is wonderful
living with pain isn’t, nor is living with chronic headache;
hiding distress creates an empty life in claiming to feel
fine while allergenic symptoms sap all strength. I finally
admit failure of new diet plans, admit crushing defeat

The regime sentences me to alienations darkest despair,
food intolerance creates pervasive partitioning between
life and I, reinforcing separation, hostile as I fall behind,
can’t complete tasks, total confusion, hearing nothing
and looking at the world with failing eyes

Confessing to growing despair; seeking your help is the
only solution to become healthy again – I’m feeling an
ignorant, functionally disabled lone alien who is world
estranged because of paralysis by throbbing pain –
it isn’t working, don't want to become ‘L’Etrangère’

Nor to experience Sartre, Thomas Mann and Aischinger
again; help me return to food that restored me before,
escape from chronic pain making life so miserable that
I only contemplate Ecclesiastes, vanity and death…

Sunday 28 July 2013

Proxies Play

 

The death of this idea will make
us space enough – ‘twas never
clear just why we’d had to play
a patsy’s role as fool – but yet
we’re tools as well as message
boys whose place is ambiance
less grace equating accidents
of birth you’ll surely say

To take our commonsense as
hay defends your view of whom
should rule – a chosen few that
you will grant allegiance to; but
we have learned that straw may
reign while proxies play
© 20 July 2013, I. D. Carswell

Bigger Economy

 

It is the way of accepting mistakes – not
in the laying blame or accusation, isn’t in
confrontation or playing facetious games
about who’s a loser; no, the acid’s on an
agreeable means of accommodation – so
here I am finding connections between a
pack of oversize light bulbs and sockets
where they’ll functionally screw in okay

Returning the damn things to the store’s
braying you are a shopper junkie with a
vague buying instinct; bigger isn’t a sign
of more eco-economy but serves to heed
all fine print reading first, and it remains
to be so as a risible learning curve...
© 19 July 2013, I. D. Carswell