After our latest foray into the magic and mayhem
of beer bird grilling*, hubby excited as a child, I’m
feverish and ill, wishing I could transcend my food
limitations to become a better person, to become
loving and good, instead of scared and fatigued
My dream is the release from physical constraints
to reach the emotional wisdom and loving kindness
I strive for, to attain maturity and insight, fighting
physical symptoms in silence is not the best way to
go when one wants to grow spiritually
Tonight my head is swelling in pain and instead of
planning how to apply love in the work-place
tomorrow, I’m nursing muscle pains in sorrow,
other people are kind and loving without reading
a whole library on relationships – from Dr Phil
to Martha Beck and Stephanie Dowrick – but I keep
on reading and studying to imprint a good attitude
on my brain to control my asocial behaviour when
I experience pain – all to limited effect, having to
repeat everything endlessly to apply when
The allergy short-circuits my brain...
*Beer bird grilling: A brilliant system of planting a chicken upright
on a beer can and let the beer fumes and added marinade produce
a succulent meal – lovely to eat indeed, oi vey...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem