Cantcer

I can’t sir. I am not prone tonight to eat heaving and
Sounding out sloppy syllabic English.
Sisyphus gave blood I heard yesterday
Helping out our cause at the five and dime.
When outnumbered run faster, he remarked
Wiping his brow and tossing aside a bead from his neck.

Colors streaking and bleeding while
Ten Red Crossing Guards walked down hill
To deliver us to a corner. Each and every cell
Even at the  coroners. Then cohorts we went ringing
All their bells dying to laugh at elderly crooks.
Well, dear, didn’t we?
Of Main, 1st, Acme, Arapaho.
Why do you even know – tell me –
What neighborhood streets fired off,
Sizzled by before the funerals
Our ages ranged then arranged from
Dead red four two beats and too, too orange ade.
Sleepless? Well, sleep less.

Circadian arcane rhythms in the nacht muzhik*
Dreamless drum beat Heartland 3-1. Who cares
Anyway, tonight its core cooled just enough
Down to the touch networked our fingers enraptured
Engraved in graves for the book of the year  of the  dead
Picture us happy with Sisyphus’ Stoney strain
Upwards, shooting from frozen dreams
Bodies consumed by frequencies
And waves of electronic singing 180 degree miles away.
Off handedly I followed the paths of railway miles yet
So far only the shofar sings in the deserted diner.
I traded a philosopher’s stone for water sieved
Through the mazes etched in the lime of aquifer stones.
100 year contract for signing away, singing and astray
Your dearest routes and longest Rights of way.

*a Russian peasant

Ilene

Female. East coast transplant living in the Bay Area of California. Living with Stage IV breast cancer. Married to the coolest guy in the universe who occasionally suffers from serious depression. Love my stepsons, although I never thought I'd have that thankless job - ever! And my best friend Simon is also my cat. How I have survived with stage IV: treatments including chemo and surgery; palliative oncology; tenacity; a dark sense of humor; support groups; and my newly reinvented career as a vintage and antiques maven. Some days I miss the old me who led a well respected and well paid life as a business strategist in high tech. So much for that. I blog to simply share my experiences and my poetic approach with others who have cancer of any kind or with their care givers and those who love them. If one person at the very least finds a little commonality or a friend out in the ether tor a smile, a common nod about this experience, or even a link to assistance, then I have accomplished a small but extraordinarily meaningful goal. Go team.

2 thoughts on “Cantcer

  1. Thank you for really reading my poetry and picking up on the positive messages we are all supposed to follow along with – my oncologist said my tenacity and my dark humor are the attributes that will keep me going – for a long time he feels. I also have ADHD, which is not a very feminine disease, so I suppose I’m too busy doing too many things to find time to focus on dying ;))

  2. Ah yes – the positivity posters! Gotta’ love their pablum-pushing little hearts. They no doubt mean well, but most have NO idea.

    NOT they we don’t need to remain positive and hold on to hope, but we *also* need to touch authentic feelings about just how darned *tough* it is sometimes. (much tougher than remaining on the positive side of the denial demarcation).

    Great post. Ilene. Thanks for sharing.
    xx,
    mgh
    (Madelyn Griffith-Haynie – ADDandSoMuchMore dot com)
    ADD Coach Training Field founder; ADD Coaching co-founder
    “It takes a village to transform a world!”

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