POEM: before

  

taken 7/09 the eve of my mastecomy

I weep for the earnest face
framed by smooth hair
her calm betrayed
by frightened eyes
that visible dread
almost enviable
a dull blade
compared to experience


my tears shed from a future
filled with unexpected loss
heaped upon the pyre
of what she had anticipated
sobbing for what could have been
for my present reflection
more unrecognizable, yet
just tauntingly familiar enough


I long to tightly encircle
that intact visage
protected in my arms
stroke her smooth hair
oh that lovely smooth hair
and tell her, murmur
whisper in her ear softly
something…but what?

I cannot tell her the truth
too soon to reason away
this much heartless reality
so I would tell her only
that I will try to love her
realizing it won’t be enough
but knowing it is all that’s left
for us both

POEM: high anxiety

the human body cannot sustain
high levels of anxiety
for very long
the acute state of utter despair
will wane
automatically

at least for a little while
a means of self-protection
from the damage such intensity
could wreak

like labor pains
rest comes during the brief calm

between desperation & numbness
even knowing the storm will swell

once more

and when it does

realization will hit harder

with each passing wave

taking my breath away
with the exquisite pain
of the unknown

becoming manifest

POEM: here I go again

I am here again
in that same place
the precipice before the fall
only this time I know
all too well
what the ground looks like
before I hit it

POEM: pebbles tossed

how will I learn to cope
to cope, to cope, to cope
all my life
all life
is about that
coping
coping with the worst
the best
the everything that is

we think each day
is a course
to be finished
but there is no line

no path to follow
only circles
rings
pebbles tossed
at random

POEM: insatiable hope

hope is a dangerous thing
if you don’t feed it enough
suddenly
a hungry mouth
that once thrived
on hidden fears
becomes ravenous
and tears the thin flesh
of denial
devouring anything
without discrimination
revealing brittle bones
of random dreams
once buried deep
in the dark cave
of lost faith
starkly pale in weak defiance
bleached white
by cold reality
and picked clean by truth
hope slowly succumbs
to starvation
and left in its wake
is a hunger deeper than before

swallowing everything

POEM: iron curtain

divided
there is a curtain slowly being drawn
between before and after
it blocks out the light
impossibly obscuring my view
on both sides
I want to yank it open
but it won’t budge
and my fingers get caught
in the lacy threads
there is no distant horizon
no rear view
only the intricate woven patterns
of the tangled cloth
draping everything

POEM: if few and far between

I want to know happiness again

to feel it warm my cold bones
like spring
find a new way to be myself
come to terms
with lingering wounds

as fresh sap runs

through my poisoned veins

this long season of despair

must not leave me diminished
my legacy to my children
cannot be

a mother root-bound by cancer
they need
I need
to believe that these changes
irrevocable
unbidden
somehow were transcended
transformed
sprouting

into a new life still worth living

beauty-filled

reaching for the sun
let there be lush moments

if few and far between
then at least enough

to scatter a few seeds

and hope they take root

POEM: closer still

even with Death stalking me

closer still now
hot breath
moist
upon my neck

I fail
I fall
I forget
to give all I have
to live all I am
today

POEM: veiled threat

who wears the veil
hiding the truth?
what shroud is worse;
is it the one worn by
the woman I was,
blind to the danger
lurking,
growing silently inside me?

or is the one worn by
the woman I am now,
who only sees the world
thru a dark haze,
dimmed
by the endless havoc
wreaked upon my body?

one veil shields
the other reveals,
both conceal clarity
in a misty layer,
a shadow
blurring the precious vision
I once held of myself

I long to shed
this faint cloud
that obscures my sight,
but I find myself afraid
the glare may be too much
and could turn my eyes
to seek the thin solace of darkness
permanently

Poem: pink is not

pink is not my color
i am not a warrior wrapped
in baby-girl shades
draped in softness
safe
i am a grown woman
facing terror
running into it head on
like walking on hot coals
red flames dancing at my feet
or deeply holding my ground
while steel blue waves
toss my body
endlessly
thrashing it upon the shore
but pink is not my color
it is just a tag
a faded label
inadequate
unwanted

POEM: innocence lost

once your body has betrayed you
it is impossible to forget
you can forgive
like a lover that strayed
now seeking absolution
my body has been punished enough
for its sin
but I will always remember
the feel of it
something out of place
not right
and will instinctively go
to that place
whenever a vague symptom
arises
a trust once broken so deeply
cannot be regained

and I weep for my innocence lost

and the freedom it took with it

POEM: yesterday

Wasn't it just yesterday
I sat moody
sprawled on my bedroom floor
draped over my guitar
scratching away on pages
laid before me
like a banquet
feasting upon the youth
of my own song?

POEM: creation vs. destruction

to utterly destroy
obliterate
is to make way for creation
both locked in an endless dance
a tumbling struggle
one defies the other
defines the other
each contains the other's seed
and lays a tangled journey
in front of me

POEM: thru this pen

There is no real comfort
for me now
no haven for my body
to find peace
to retreat into
no deep rest
from this wearying plague
any escape left to me
flows only thru this pen

POEM: vanity

This is real
not a movie
some late night tear-jerker
where the heroine
bravely
defiantly
shaves her head
I am not brave
nor resolute
not willing to let go
I am vain
watching helplessly
as my crowning glory
fails
strand by strand
hope against hope
that somehow
someway
my grandmother's roots
the same ones that kept the gray
from tainting my locks
beyond the pale of youth
hoping those tough familial roots
would spare me this indignity
this insult upon too many others
but roots only go so deep
and hair is as mortal
as vanity

POEM: a bigger house

veiled in that obvious way you often choose
when you are trying to hurt me
without claiming ownership
you were careless with my feelings
informing me that if we got a bigger house
you would need my help to keep it clean
like a patient father to his irresponsible child
you implied I don't pull my weight
clearly you are overburdened
doing more than your fair share
at your limit in this, our small house

later, with not a little bitterness
I foolishly pointed out that blue bucket
you left by the garage for months now
one among many items carelessly forgotten
left strewn out doors, for all to see
embarrassing to me, but not to you
snapping back, quickly, sharply,
the veil lifted now, the intent clear
a blow tossed at me with deliberate aim
wasn't it I, not you, that wanted a bigger house
yet thanks to me you have no time as it is now
to take care of all that needs doing in this
our smaller, seemingly less demanding home

Late now, I wonder if you will ever know
the things I do that go unseen, tho maybe few
they would be missed if I should stop
but then again, my messes are private
they don’t announce themselves loudly to others
or reveal the inner turmoil, the secret, ugly side
not like yours, out there glaring for all to see
yet you always manage to ignore your own
never looking underneath, where the dirt is ground in

today, of all days, you said mean things to me
you made me cry, catch my breath hard
forcing me to hide my tears from your cold heart
when I needed to see it beating kindly
tomorrow I let them pump poison in my veins
as you sit and hold my hand
chemicals meant to kill mutant cells
but which toxic venom is more destructive
or hurts me more? Which mess is easier
to sweep under the rug
and forget about?

POEM: Free Pass

You don’t get to judge me
you don’t get to blame me
you don’t get to direct me
or tell me how to be, how to feel
this isn’t about you
your feelings are your own providence

See, I have a "get out of jail free" card

a monopoly of deserving

it's only fair
I can show it to you
I’ll lift my shirt and you will see it
a violent gash, a deep, gnarled scar
it means you have to do what I need
or just stay away from me
and let me do whatever I must
in order to survive this

Because if I don’t survive this
you will have nothing left to judge
or to accuse me of, or complain about
anyway

POEM: what to keep, what to discard

Sorting thru boxes in the basement
I find random, scattered remnants
things I thought were important
crammed into unmarked containers

the notebook I used to keep track
of the times I nursed my first baby
sleep deprived scribblings
evidence of a mother’s nervous dedication

keep

the childhood rock collection
in a scratched plastic box
purchased with my own money
from a vacation gift shop

keep

the cards I bought but never sent
misplaced when they were needed
people absent from my life now
no longer worth saving

discard

these bits and pieces are like lines on a map
the road leads to a place of order
but I am lost amongst the stories
and don’t want to find my way just yet

POEM: Lifeline

unwisely I yearn to grasp
to grab, to hold on
to what is only possible
instead of the probable
or the likely
I want stronger lines
tethering my spirit

because to see Hope’s dark side
is to glimpse that offering
held just out of reach
but dangled enticingly
a frayed promise
made to be broken

POEM: room with a view

People listen when you have cancer
they stop, hanging on every word I say
funny
suddenly my thoughts have more weight
as if I’ve opened a door to wisdom
closed to every one else

Maybe there is such a door
open to me now
new vistas on the other side
perspective shifted
clarity comes in waves
unbidden

But I’m not sure about the wisdom part
perhaps that is not it
perhaps the only thing I have learned
from glimpsing behind that door
that heavy, terrible door
is that I know less than I ever dreamed
my view, unimpeded by triviality
unlocked
goes on for miles