The Foundation is Rotten

People should think things out fresh and not just accept conventional terms and the conventional way of doing things.~R. Buckminster Fuller

You ask me to label my beliefs, quick
and simple. I look beneath. I’ve been sick,
stuck in differential diagnosis
fed by Big Pharma psychosis

so I dig deep. I’ve got the stones to speak
of false premises, germ theory critique.
I know my body, respect the terrain.
When symptoms arise, toxins are to blame.

Keep It Simple, Stupid, Occam’s Razor
shines through fictive narratives, a laser.
Believe disease is everywhere: insane
focus poor symptoms for drug profits’ gain.

It’s come to this. I didn’t take the leap
to some imaginary place asleep,
restraining my breath, injected by slush
amalgamates of poisons bound to rush

past all body’s defenses, breaking down
in ways too horrible to think. You frown
and call me quirky, justify the lack
of evidence: it’s science. You’re highjacked

by stress from dissonance. Intuition
will break the spell. Just be still and listen.
Turn off the feed. Observe awake creatures.
Focus and find nourishment in nature.

Inspired by: Poor, Stone, Quirky and Intuitive.

Also inspired by What Really Makes You Ill?: Why Everything You Thought You Knew About Disease Is Wrong by Dawn Lister, and the daily exposés by the investigative reporter Jon Rappoport at

Published by

Victoria Stuart

I'm a poet, philosopher and inner seeker. A giver, lover and a healer who studies the heart.

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