Free Time

I.

We visit this carnival bright striped stripped with neon,
Inert gasses to breathe and a feast of brothers to feed on.
For some think they can earn a place of grace with honey and gold,
Bolder still creating truth in lines measured and ribald. 
They never find out the punchline to the joke or the answer to the riddle,
And there’s a quid pro quo that’s owed in life, no matter when the shovels fill.
Caskets and urns won’t hold a single possession. 
All the words we say, stay behind – an ugly concession.
All the collections and the props nailed to walls, universal halls – 
Left behind. We take bows when finally the ending brings us all,
To tears of both laughter and outrage.
I cannot hear the touching words, your caress, feel your assuage.
We have nothing besides a shadow of a self in the darkness 
All we take from our body a soul full of energy that we once possessed.
Money becomes like gasoline to drive this human fortune, 
Then we have no excuse but to look back and distinguish fools from torture.

II.

To explain away and fix the past,
To lie awake in fields of glass.
To cover, bandage, and cause more scars,
To fight lines in shadow boxer’s bars.
To empty our heart and cease the grief,
To ease the soul’s debt and feel relief.
In an instant at once energy transforms: too late for the bill.
Payment stays behind with wealth for what some kill.
Then lungs grasping at what you needed, not for me –
The universal dark cannot you breathe.
It’s what you gave not what was taken, 
In all the air that you’d forsaken. 
It’s all the passage of rite we take when our soul connects 
Finally, 
Suddenly.
lastly free.
The universe finding all quiet now. 
Your hunger, your yearning and the
 lies and 
               the deceits 
                              Away from us fall 
                                          leaving.
Left alone.
The soul’s simplicity, honesty, in fancy.

III.

Our light and love all created from our own good energy. 
The more positive we put into the universe in the form we’ve been loaned for a sliver of recursive, infinite,
As time, arguably the most ridiculous conceit we’ve invented to mark,
This short history and trick those foolish enough to believe they mean much of anything.
As the more we expand to touch the concurrent dimensions all happening always now and forever,
The closer I come to understanding the meaninglessness of quarreling with those dumb and deaf, 
The more certain I become at how lost deceitful lying grinds the gears to a halt.
And as then disperses into nevermore – the past present and future.
Then to see heavy black holes swallow them whole by the universe’s own disposal systems. 
Negative and ugly, dumped into eternal nothing, what we know as hell.
The positivity, the good, the light, recombinent combines again.
And again find ourselves in the spirit of pure love’s eternity.  

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.

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