A poetic foray into digestion

Her stomach gurgles, her belly quivers,

Her eyes dart round, her body shivers,

Her blood is pumping, pupils dilating,

Her brain firing signals, neurons pulsating.

 

“I’m hungry” she says, stomping her feet,

Her hands curled in fists, her cheeks pink with heat,

Her blood sugars low, her brain senses the threat,

Hypoglycaemic, she’s getting upset.

 

Let’s zoom inside to her stomach, we see

Not much actually, it’s pretty empty,

Let’s go closer still to epithelial cells,

With mechanoreceptors that detect stretch and swell.

 

The cells are secreting, in the absence of food,

Ghrelin, director of hunger and mood.

It travels far to the hypothalamus,

And crosses the barrier to the Arcuate Nucleus.

 

It exerts on the brain orexigenic effects,

Acting on all of the CNS,

As well as controlling energy homeostasis,

It activates signals in other places.

 

It is involved in rewards and incentives,

Activating memory to be more retentive,

In the prefrontal cortex it alters decisions

And signals that food is the brains next mission.

 

AGRP / NPY neurons firing,

She suddenly realises she’s desiring

Foods that will bring comfort and energy,

Turning the hunger to satiety.

 

She glances around, “Is there food in the kitchen?”

“Maybe there’s cake?” she finds herself wishing.

Her brain screaming out “I need sugar and fat!”

“How about this celery stick?”, “No! Not that!”.

 

She settles for leftovers from todays’ lunch,

She prepares the meal and begins to munch,

But before the food even enters her mouth

Her body’s preparing to break it down.

 

The optic nerve signals, olfactory tasting,

Oesophagus contracting, stomach bracing,

Signals firing and cells releasing,

Hormones pumping, saliva secreting.

 

She’s chewing her food, or masticating,

The mechanical movement of teeth activating

Brain pathways and peptides although which? We don’t know,

Undoubtedly appetite suppressing, though.

 

She swallows the food, it enters her gullet,

Peristaltic contractions push it, pull it?

Down to the stomach and through the sphincter,

Exciting the vagus nerve which leads to

 

Acetylcholine release which then acts on

M3 receptors which has an impact on

G cells and Gastrin release which exacts on

Enterochromaffin cells, in fact, on

 

The release of Histamine which causes secretion

Of a Hydrochloric Acid solution

From parietal cells. This breaks down proteins:

Bacterial, viral, it effectively cleans.

 

The stomach defensive to outside threats,

It protects the body from microbe pests,

And starts to get bigger when filling with stuff

Alerting cells that there’s food, sure enough.

 

This is the sign that cells into action,

Satiety hormones promote food satisfaction,

And called to arms they summon their messengers

To zoom round the body, passing on messages.

 

Listen real close and we’ll hear what they’re saying,

Small peptides which act on receptors relaying

Instructions for organs and tissues together,

Discreetly directing digestion, they’re clever!

 

Quick shout out to the second brain,

Enteric Nervous System reigns

Independent of our head,

Taking over when we’re fed.

 

Not consciously controlling food,

But still it can impact on mood.

Example; it can play a role in

Emotion via serotonin.

 

We can’t leave out our microbe friends,

They influence our gut no end,

They breakdown fibre, control immunity,

Live symbiotically with impunity.

 

But more than this they also create

Peptides that mimic our own, although fake

They still can cause the brain to favour

Certain foods and change behaviour.

 

But we’re on a tangent, I transgress,

Trying to unravel the mysteries, the mess,

Let’s turn our attention back to her digestion,

Please excuse this wild digression.

 

The food moves into the small intestine,

Which triggers release of the hormone secretin,

Raising pH, deacidifying the chyme,

Preparing the food for absorption time.

 

Now this is when hormonal magic starts,

They spring into action to play their parts,

All working towards a common goal,

With the finest precision and expert control.

 

Introducing our trio of polypeptides,

Meet P.P, P.P.Y and greet N.P.Y,

Their function is slowing intestinal transit,

Collecting info from gut contents to transmit.

 

There’s cholecystokinin released from the lining

Of epithelial cells, the intestine mining

All of the nutrients. Hormones supplying

Pancreatic enzymes emulsifying.

 

Let’s move to the pancreas, it’s interesting here,

There are many cell types, but you don’t need to fear,

Insulin’s important and so’s glucagon!

Blood glucose levels is what they act on.

 

“Cells, uptake glucose!” ordered insulin.

Encouraged by supporters called incretins,

G.I.P and G.L.P-1 unite

To make sure secretion of insulin’s right.

 

Back to the intestine the food flowing through,

Down to the large one it ends up as poo,

But still there’s absorption before this occurs,

Gradient crossings and nutrient transfers.

 

Her hormones are doing their job quite well,

Signalling enough’s enough for a spell,

We’ll find, if we’re looking, there’s one in particular,

Not quite a satiety hormone, but similar.

 

That is super important in stopping eating,

It acts on the brain to minimise feeding,

Signalling high nutrition, or paucity,

Signalling also body adiposity.

 

It’s Leptin, of course, what else could it be?

Released from adipocytes, completely key.

Directly proportional to adipose stores,

It communicates well, but not without flaws.

 

For when we’re obese, sometimes we’re resistant

To leptins effects, and Ghrelins persistent,

The balance is off and it’s hard to make right

But for now she is healthy, her hormones alright.

 

The food almost finished her plate almost empty,

She’s eaten as much as she can, it was plenty,

She’s starting to feel just a little bit full,

“Delicious! But really I can’t eat it all!”

 

And after a while, digestion is done,

Nutrients absorbed, the waste passed on,

Deposited fat, glucose stores filled,

The body has protein with which to rebuild.

 

She’s feeling much better now that she has eaten,

Happy and comfy, a bit sleepy even,

She washes her dishes and lies on the sofa,

Sinking, so sweetly, into a food coma.

Coach Predator

You sit next to me with other seats spare,

On the back of my head I feel your stare.

I grit my teeth and peer out the window,

The coach starts moving, grumbling, slow.

 

You spread out your knees, I pull away mine,

You’re in my space, I pretend it’s fine,

Then your elbow is, for some reason, resting

On my hip. My whole body’s protesting.

 

For a while I think, am I being unkind?

Why do I care when he doesn’t mind?

So I move out your way but you follow me,

Spreading out further not letting me free.

 

I adjust my position to give myself space,

I turn and see the look on your face

As you move your arm over, pressing,

Touching my body, almost caressing.

 

Get off me. You’re disgusting. And intimidating.

Your intentional touch is violating.

My whole focus centred on how much I’m hating

Your presence, your dominance is suffocating.

 

I muster my bravery and push you away,

I regret touching you as the skin memory stays,

I take a deep breath and I start to relax,

But it’s not long before your arm is back.

 

I’m ignoring, I’m ignoring, I’m ignoring you.

I’ve tried everything, what else can I do?

And just when I think to myself, I can’t take it,

You speak to me, flirtily, sleezily, I feel naked.

 

Passively, English-ly, I reply to your questions,

I try to be nice, I keep my expression

Courteous and cool, it’s not in my nature

To be mean to a stranger.

 

You ask for my headphone, I hand one over,

I give you my phone too, like a pushover.

You play songs I don’t like whilst smiling at me,

You ask if I like them. Do I have a choice but to agree?

 

You steal my attention for the rest of the trip,

Still pushing your elbow into my hip.

We, finally, arrive at our destination,

Relieved, but angry and hurt by your predation.

 

I try to escape but I find that you’re following,

Glancing at me, you hold out your hand offering

Help or assistance, can you ride in my taxi?

No, you can’t, I’m sorry. Why the fuck am I saying sorry!?

 

You ask for my number, to see me again!?

Do you really, can’t seriously!? think that we’re friends!?

I smile apologetically, a meek shake of the head,

“No and fuck off”, I should have said.

 

I get in my uber, I’m finally alone,

So thankful and grateful I’m almost home.

But the anger remains, at my own passivity,

I berate myself and my sensitivity.

 

 

 

A peculiar feeling

My mind wanders with nothing to grip,

No thoughts that stay, no ideas that stick,

 A boredom, a gloom, an absence of will,

I look in to my head to find things quite still.

 

A longing sensation extends in my chest

It strangles my lungs and steals my breath,

I look down in surprise as I hold myself,

Why do I feel so lost and bereft?

 

I dig deeper to find it is empty and bare,

A falseness, I feel, for I know something’s there.

Under my rib cage and masked by despair,

There’s a heart that is hurting, in need of some care.

 

I peer through the lens of my own inner eye,

I examine, I probe, I question, I pry,

“What has hurt you today? Oh why do you cry?

Why are you hurting my chest?” I try.

 

A shrug and a murmur and a sad little sob,

“I’m lonely” she says. “I want someone to love.

I have so much to give, I can promise you that.

But no heart that I know of will love me back.”

 

I hold my heart in a warm embrace,

“Oh child,” I say, “so pure and chaste,

I love you with all of my being, my soul.

That’s all that you need. Together, we’re whole.”

A letter to a loved one

Firstly, may I just say, I love you very much,

That love will never falter, a time-enduring touch

Of hearts entwined together, forever it will last.

Nothing could ever change that; future, present or past.

 

I’m sorry you’re unhappy, it breaks my fragile heart

To see you in your misery, to see you fall apart,

To see the darkness in your eyes and know that I can’t help.

You’ve got to want to live, you know, to want to help yourself.

 

If I could be your crutch, I would, if that is what you need

To help you walk the winding path of life, to take the lead.

If I could be your umbrella, protect you from the storm,

To keep you safe and dry, to always keep you warm.

 

If I could be your angel to guide you through the night,

I would give up everything to help you fight your fight.

If I could be your anchor, and hold on to you tight,

Never would I let you go for fear you would take flight.

 

But you know as well as I, it doesn’t work like that.

There’s a universal rule, an annoying caveat

That strength for change must only come from in your heart alone.

I will of course support you but in truth you’re on your own.

 

My heart is duly breaking to see you in this state,

I don’t believe for one second that this can be your fate.

I’ve had to be so strong for you, for us, for family,

The burden is too much now, it is slowly killing me.

 

So actually I need your help so please meet me halfway,

I need to see you better, become happy day by day.

So that is why I write to you, my heart is on my sleeve,

Let’s work this out together, there’s nothing we can’t achieve.

 

We’ve never lost our faith in you; the leader of our team.

It’s time to start your life again, start living out your dream.

We’re all here to support you in this time that you’re unwell,

Dear dad, I love you very much, I hope you know this well.

Sunday morning

Bleary eyed and fuzzy headed I wake up with a start

And feel the dryness of my mouth and hear the thudding of my heart

Which drowns out unfinished thoughts and the memories of last night

Flashing through my weary brain, withdrawing from the light

That streams in through my windows taunting me with midday sun

So I know I’ve missed the morning, I was out late having fun

Or so that is what the fragments of the visions I remember

Have led me to believe, I think I need to send a

Message to my friends just to check that all’s okay

So hungover paranoia doesn’t haunt me through the day

Like my painful throbbing headache will, reminding me that next week

I must drink a lot more water before I go to sleep,

Oh what I wouldn’t give for a glass of water now

In reach from my pillow, I’m not quite sure how

I can get up from my bed without it, my body mimicking

A sack of slowly hardening cement that’s sticking

To my mattress, I’ll be doomed if I don’t get up soon

Not sure I have the willpower to get up before the moon

Appears tonight, but I must find that will from deep inside me somewhere

Or I’ll slowly turn nocturnal, but I almost do not care

So long as I stay wrapped up in the warm cosy embrace

Of my duvet in my bedroom, my cave, my safe place.

Writers Block

I’m a writer, I’m a poet,
It’s a gift, they say, I know it!
Helps me fine tune all the voices
All the questions all the choices
Running through my busy brain:
Sorting crazy from the sane.
Helping me to find a way
When I’ve had a rubbish day.

 

But today the words won’t come.
Through my fingertips and thumb.
Tapping out a steady rhythm
Forming words into a vision
Giving shape to my emotions
When they feel as vast as oceans,
But today I’ve got to say;
I don’t know what to write. 
Okay?!

The strength in optimism

 

Optimism,

to have hope,

to believe that the good will overcome the bad in some way, shape or form.

Sometimes optimists can get a bad rep for wearing rose-tinted glasses,

and believing the best in a person or situation,

even though you get let down time and time again.

It may be seen as weakness, or ignorance, or immaturity.

But I’m proud to be an optimist.

And I believe that it’s the hope and the ability to see the silver lining that gives us strength.

We are strong enough to be hurt,

and to be sad,

and to grieve and mourn for people that we don’t even know,

animals we have never met,

battles we will never face,

wounds we will never feel,

and STILL pick ourselves up every day and see the wonder in this world.

Despite all the sadness in front of us,

we still get up in the morning and keep looking towards the future.

We still have hope for future generations and for the future of this Earth.

Being an optimist doesn’t make you weak,

for fighting fair and refusing to sink to a more hurtful level.

We don’t need to put someone else down to make ourselves feel good.

We make others feel better in order to make ourselves feel good.

Optimists are strong enough for 2 people,

we don’t suck the happiness out of someone else to fuel our own,

we give happiness and we give love and it’s in that generosity and genuine care that we feel fulfilled.

Strength lies in your ability to forgive,

to understand,

to be compassionate,

to still try and be good,

even though it’s really really hard not to feel hate, or be selfish, or be lazy.

That is strength.

That continued commitment.

Strength isn’t being nastier than someone,

being bigger and stronger,

being the one more willing to push someone until they break.

Strength isn’t who can shout the loudest,

who can win a popularity contest,

who can list more achievements.

Strength is being able to put one foot in front of the other every day,

to keep going,

to keep smiling,

to keep seeing the beauty in your life despite all the misery.

Strong people are the people who value happiness and love.

Strong people value other people.

They value other life.

They can see that all life is created equal.

And they can see that although we were all born equal,

we weren’t all bought up equal,

 and that some people have a lot of hate,

a lot of resentment and a lot of insecurities

that they need to put onto other people because it’s the only way they can take it off of themselves.

Strong people don’t have hate, so they don’t need to hate others to take a break from hating themselves.

If you’ve gained your strength from putting people down,

you have the strength of one person,

and it’s a fickle, shallow, transient strength you’ve stolen.

If you’ve gained strength from helping the people around you,

being kind, being considerate, making other people feel special and appreciated,

then you have the strength of a network of good people.

Whatever kind of person you are,

just remember that the way you feel about the people around you is more a reflection of yourself than a reflection of them.

And remember that only you are in control of your emotions,

and I for one would much rather be happy,

than seem strong.