Best Cancer Poems

Below are the all-time best Cancer poems written by Poets on PoetrySoup. These top poems in list format are the best examples of cancer poems written by PoetrySoup members

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New Cancer Poems

Don't stop! The most popular and best Cancer poems are below this new poems list.

Our love will always be stronger then cancer by Tracy, Melissa
Cancer Calendar by Watson, Stephe
Cancer of My Little Girl by Loo, Laura
A Poem to Michael with Cancer by Donovan, William
Cancer has no filter by cox, tammy
Cancer Sucks by Raney, Justin
Breast cancer by Byrd, Randolph
Cancer Scare by Rodeheaver , Julie Leigh
The Colonialism of Cancer by Bah, Mohamed Manzur
thine world is cancer by nair, sadashivan

View all new Cancer Poems

The Best Cancer Poems

 
Details | Cancer Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A beautiful mirror

-Escape of the mountain-

Do you care about my breast?
The new curve - countryside corset. 
The beauty of every summer dress 
Laying down, wearing out gravity 
Embracing the same feeling; Your
hands indulged in. Passion and devotion, 
around perfumed scenery... 
     The perfect pair

Today we will pray,
Counting every second on the clock 
No longer the womanly figure before'
I will possess a new battle, 
around the virtues of my palace.

-Will you still be there, 
  when the hump and lump are gone?
-Will I still be the queen of your heart?
Patiently I shall wait and see, 
 in hopes to gain the time, breast cancer stole 
Leaving behind torn tissue, with a daily reminder of;
The one that got away.

---note---
A Focus on Breast Cancer 


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2016

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PINK LACE

**Every pace change --is the voices of poets sharing his/her Ribbon** 

"PINK LADIES"  
  
The phone rings, 
The clock dings,

I scream, scream, and scream:

I can’t grasp what is real
I can’t inhale the lives you steal
This game is like murder in the first degree,
I can barely feel the words you're expressing.
Your hand, holding on to mine as if it was the last
I crawl I hide behind these moonstone walls
There it stood and stole my Womanhood
Pink is the ointment rubbed inside my diary.
---

I crawl- I remember-
Looking for a dream, where the women wear combat boots
Women ready to kill all confrontation with nukes.
---

I was lost!
Do you know the feeling?
Once you hear, the “C” word your mind starts spinning,
You can’t see what’s going on,
Your smiles soon to be gone,
---

LOOK AT ME!
On this fright night, I bleed
Hold on tight, of the dead of this night
I’m down on my fallen knees,
A secret I can't keep, no longer need
Breaking backs when I mention the word “C.”
It is like getting struck by a freight train
Taking what belong and makes ME me! 
Forgetting the Pink October ribbons, I wore
Taking  time to weave them into the last strand of my red chemo hair.
---

Now here you are,
Standing on the chest
Heavy shoulders a violin press.
No longer needing the little black dress
Skin pink tight leather, now you caress
My eyes are full of tears
Once I discovered the beast came back without fear 
The news blew like a missile in heat
With a fire’s shooting out from the dark
Sweltering me, blazing me,
Leaving the world, all ribbon tied.
Dimples and pretty lips, I drop the world with beauty and tissues. 
Filled with  pink ivory issues 
This is the way that I feel, I am real… 
You are a killer, you are a disease! 
You sit there and shatter our lives,
With many of us, you’ll discover we do not break like glass 
Still, we walk in high heels strolling through pink valley skies.
With a charm called a Pink Ribbon; -I WORE-
---

- A heavy pink scarf now I wear like a noose, 
Remembering my days have been numbered 
---

I PLEAD FOR MY LIFE?
I have no family to lean on
Everybody’s plus my mother is gone
You are the undead: 
Leading some of us into a watery grave
You are like a jack in the box
Hiding until you are found… 
You’re silent until your jobs done...

You made us angry, you made us cry, you killed many…
However, you will never come close to a glorious ~Victory~ 
We are  “PINK LADIES,” who  continue to be strong
I will find a way to sew my chest back to its caressing view!

One day will find the cure,
And, destroy YOU "The miserable ‘Breast Cancer’ Disease" 
"ONCE AND FOR ALL!"


by; PD

Dedicated to all the females of the world. 
((And men whose life touched by this disease))


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012



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Humanity

If we don’t feel with our hearts, we don’t belong
If we don’t see as one, the world is wrong
Beyond the wars and the hate and the insanity
We are all connected as humanity
We are the child with cancer who still wears a smile
We are the kid from the projects facing trial
We are the pregnant teen feeling lost and used
We are the elderly man in a home abused
We are the young couple, marriage on the rocks
We are the homeless one in a cardboard box
We are the cold and hungry, sad and depressed
We are the lonely child who never felt blessed
We are the woman whose life was filled with pain
We are the man standing alone in the pouring rain
We are the child who struggles day to day
We are the teenage girl who ran away
We are the soldier killed in an unjust war
We are the young man who can dream no more
We are the inmate locked away for life
We are the old man who has lost his wife
We would be better off without our vanity
And have a sense of belonging to humanity.


Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2010

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HE IS MY BEST FRIEND

HE’S MY BEST FRIEND

Times of laughter under a southern sky
with jacarandas in their ripest bloom.
Those days were left behind as years went by
with summer’s shining light now dimmed by gloom.
	
With the darkest shadows cast over you
I still see the light that once shone so bright.
With a friendship that lasts a whole life through
I pray for God’s mercy to heal your plight.

Your words are drowned in tears of silent cries
though once your courage was my saving grace.
I feel the forlorn sadness in your eyes
as I give my thanks with a warm embrace.

Through final parting our rapport remains,
memories light the dusk as daylight wanes.


26th October, 2016
T.J Grén


Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2016

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Worst Love Poem Ever Written

Listen to poem:
I suck at dying poems
Chemo poems, Metastatic Cancer poems,
Hair falling out in the shower poems
 
And I told a half truth
When I told you I could write you one
In less than six months (It's been eight)
I apologize for being so late

I wanted your poem to be pink and graceful
Like those ribbons
I see all over the internet
Filled with cheesy generic rhymes
That could get me hired by Hallmark

 I just know my metaphors will start melting
And that my similes will get all soft
 I guarantee you the rhyme meter will be off

I went to Google
And the typed in the word 'happy'
Three billion things came up
Not a single inference to
Breast cancer, hair loss
No redirects to mastectomies

The only thing research could teach me
Is that a good day on chemo
Is when your stool doesn't come out tar Black
And has no blood in it
Or when your urine
Smells better on Wednesday
Than it did on Tuesday
Sleeping less than 12 hours
When 24 would be better

Still I refuse to finish this poem
Without something bright and hopeful
And I know I'm doing a horrible job

America has more poets
Than it does alcoholics
   And Pot smokers combined
And you chose me to be
Your Breast Cancer
Poet Laureate
Trusting me to write a poem
About the biggest battle in your life

And don't think
I didn't notice your Facebook activity
Had decreased by 88%
In the last three months

And you aren't really
Coming to any more of my poetry shows
Ever again. Are you??
But we still have January, February

And how do you write
A Breast Cancer poem
With no references to breast
(I get embarrassed)
 That would be some kind of Oxymoron
I guess

But even if you had one breast
Or no breast
or if you had less hair than I do
I promise to look only in your eyes
And never ever even notice
Or even think about it
And never for a moment
Would I feel sorry for you
Yes I suck at lying too...

But I don't suck at loving you
Or at hoping you wake up tomorrow morning
 With no Cancer at all
And that The Eiffel Tower will be right outside
Your bedroom window...
And I would be right there with you
Holding your hand while we look down on Paris
And you can impress me with your French again

And if I ever make it
To the Pulitzer Poetry board
I might lose a thousand points
Just for this poem alone
And my hopes for the prize will be smitten
And some old person with white hair will say
That this was the worst love poem ever written


Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2016

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Thirty-Eight, Cancer Poem: For Sharon

Thirty Eight ( Corny Cancer Poem) For Sharon

Hallmark has a million cards in their catalog
And not one of them says,
Life Sucks
American greetings had nothing that says
Thirty-eight and  Never coming home
So I hope it’s not too late to write this poem


After your eighth round of Chemo,
The Doctor says the best medicine is prayer
Any Pre-med drop out
Or High school Health student
Can interpret what this means
But it still just isn’t fair-


           Still who am I to be a pessimist?


And I apologize for screaming at your surgeons
(Telling  them to stop comparing 
your tumors to fruit)
For telling them you aren’t a damn fruit stand
Even for tossing those fruit diagrams 
In the Hazmat can

Sorry if I let things get out of hand

Tomorrow they get to pull out
Their zapper instruments
And shoot at your cells like you are
One of those Nintendo video games
Over and over again
And I get to sit in the waiting room
Hoping the red cells surrender
And the white ones win

  
And Tylenol has a zillion dollars
And can’t even find a cure for cancer
Bayer pharmaceuticals has no answer

And if you die at thirty-eight
I’ll probably boycott Tylenol
For the next twenty-three years
Advil for the next twenty-two
Blaming both of them
For not saving you


Forty calls to Bayer pharmaceuticals 
And not a single one returned
What kind of heroes are they
When they aren’t even concerned?


And I’m pissed off at Obama
And Dr. Phil and Oprah too
And all Nationally syndicated talk show host
Who are talking about who slept with who
When they should be talking about 
YOU


I’m also ticked at a thousand Nazis
And twenty millions gangbangers 
And eight-hundred serial killers
Who have working organs
When all you need is just one-


Still I know you wouldn’t even accept it
Even if there was a law that said you could
And you would say something corny like
God loves bad people as much
As he does the good

And i wish i could snatch 
half of my lymph nodes
And give them to you
But no Doctor would approve the surgery

So what else can i do
Except write this silly poem for you
except watch you lose weight and hair
And listen to doctors suggest prayer

And more chemo only means
More Hallmark moments at the hospital
And more crying, more dying
More doctors and chaplains lying


But mostly I’ll never get to figure out
How it took you thirty minutes
At Build-A-Yogurt in the mall
And they only had six flavors-
Even after I told you
Chocolate Coconut Sprinkle
 Was really the best of all


Tonight your children get to sleep in your bed
And pretend You’re coming home
And I get to cry for them and finish
This corny cancer poems


Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2015

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By God's Grace

I, who always used to gravitate toward health and fitness,
would flatter myself that I was too healthy to ever get a bad disease.
Then it happened!  A lump  - most inurbane -
had decided to invade one of my breasts.

There was nothing perspicuous about that tumor.
My first whole month consisted of going from one test to another
just to determine if it was malignant.
In my new surreal world, everything seemed to alienate me from normalcy.
Surely, I thought, my body is simply being capricious.
I kept believing that the crazy tumor would be ruled benign.
Surely my worries and my biggest looming fear soon would dissipate.

Then I got the verdict – second stage cancer.
Told it was a less invasive type, I felt a little reassured.
But after surgery, another test revealed I was high risk for it returning.
My condition is far from transitory.
If it lived inside me still, it would attack with vengeance were it to grow.

I did the radiation I was told to do
but turned down the chemotherapy.
The tumor, after all, had been removed.
Through prayer, I believe God guided me 
to sources that informed me of other precautions
better for me than chemotherapy.

I can make bad genetics my scapegoat,
along with the weirdness of estrogen, which drove it to my breast.
My body betrayed me, but millions are victims of this disease each year.
For now, I am surviving and doing it wonderfully.
I search for more preventative solutions 
through such things as exercise and healthy eating.
Perhaps I mainly get by with support from friends and family
and most certainly, from simply LOVING life 
     that by God’s grace,
                    victorious I may remain!


Revised for Julie Rodeheaver's "I'm a Survivor" Contest


Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

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With Angels Wings

"With Angels Wings"

The whispering winds, a song they sing

A song of sorrow and of a heart so big 

Your love reaches as far as the eye can see

I believe in dreams because in my heart, you beat

Just as a gentle breeze shimmers every leaf

Your love, in every heart, plants a seed

Elegance, love and hope is what grows beneath

And this is your gift to us....

For safe keeping.

So...if you ever wonder why heaven sings

It's because now you fly...

      With Angels Wings


Copyright © Rob Schulteis | Year Posted 2014

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ABC World's Famous Scientists In History

A  is for Anton van Leeuwenhoek- in his simple  microscope made him well-known,
B is for Benjamin Franklin who invented  the electricity  from the flow of electrons.

C is for Curie, Marie -a woman   known by her theory of radioactivity,
D is for Dalton ,John -a meteorologist who developed an atomic theory.

E is for Einstein, Albert in his theory of relativity  and mass-energy equivalence,
F is for Franz Boaz  who studied human cultures  through methods of science.

G is for Galieleo Galilei who worked also on telescope as astronomer and physicist,
H is for Heingrich Hertz who worked on the theory of lights and waves  as scientist.

I is for Isaac Newton who discovered the law of motion and gravitation,
J is for John Logie Baird who invented one of our favorites, the television.

K is for Karlheinz Brandenburg  who discovered MP3 tech for  our music that pleases,
L is for Louie Pasteur worked on microbiology for causes and prevention of diseases.

M is for Michael Faraday who had successfully   invented an electric motor,
N is for Neils Bohr who passed the milestone of the discovery of atomic structure.

O is for Orville Wright , a scientist who successfully invented an airplane,
P is for Paul Ehrlich who discovered chemotherapy for a cancer patient.

Q is for Quantum Cosmology by a scientist named Hawking, Stephen,
R is for Rudolf Virchow, a scientist who worked on the cell doctrine.

S is for Sigmund Freud who founded the Psychology of Unconsciousness,
T is for Thomas Edison whose invention on an electric bulb was a real success.

U is for Universal Law of Gravitation  and Motion founded by Isaac Newton, 
V is for Verbiest, Ferdinand-known on first car as his successful  invention.

W is for William Thomson, an inventor of  Temperature Scale for everyone,
X is for X-ray invented by a scientist named Wilhelm Conrad Rontgen.

Y is forYoung Philosopher like Aristotle, a student of Plato at age of eighteen,
Z is for Zoologist  who studied marine invertebrates like Charles Darwin.

Knowing some  of the world’s famous scientists and their inventions,
Make us smart children with all the agility of mind to take part  in  creations.


Feb. 10, 2013


This chain of couplets was also composed for a wall post in our science rm/lab for the kids to easily memorize or familiarize with some of  the world’s famous scientists and philosophers in history.  I also wish to thank my dearest friend, Andrea who encouraged me to write an ABC poem like this. Huh! It made me sweat a bit! ;))

Fourth Place
Contest: Z is for Zaria: An ABC Couplet
Judged: 4/16/2013
Sponsor; Poet Cyndi Macmillan


Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2013

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Mama Swore It'd Be Alright

 I grew up shooting pool and dancing on the bar
 Mama said with enough buise anyone could be a star
 Daddy was in the back room chasin' skirts
 Mama was in the parking lot dancin' with Mary Jane just to mask the hurt

 I've spent my life walkin' around in a cloudy haze
 I'm taunted by the memory of my early days

 Daddy spent alot of time drivng an eighteen wheeler
 Each night Mama brought home a new "sexual healer"
 I didn't usually get a chance to catch his name
 But it almost always ended the same

 I heard her scream as glass would break
 My heart would stop with each breath I was scared to take
 Sirens and lights flooded our streets as I approached another long night
 As I dried her tears and cleaned her blood Mama swore it'd be alright
 She forgot to mention that it'd happen again
 
 Both my brothers had thier own bed in the federal pen
 Cancer took Granny's last breath right about then
 My sisters and I weren't strangers to rape
 As we grew older we each seeked our o0wn escape

 I guess I chose the hardest road
 Somehow I thought drugs and men could ease my burdened load
 While hiding from myself I lived a life of crime
 I earned a reputation and did my time

 I heard her scream as glass would break
 My heart would stop with each breath I was scared to take
 Sirens and lights flooded our streets as I approached another long night
 As I dried her tears and cleaned her blood Mama swore it'd be alright
 She forgot to mention that it'd happen again


Copyright © Sara Beaderstadt | Year Posted 2011

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Breast Cancer Awareness

This is a short piece for Breast Cancer Awareness Month. I lost a close friend very talented, very young to breast cancer. I also lost my cousin recently to the same disease. I hate that ugly "C" word. I just wrote this story to highlight the relationship North American men have with women's breasts. I hope it is taken in the spirit that it is written. 


I don't have to try not to look at a woman's cleavage, I love looking into their eyes. I love listening to them talk. I enjoy listening to a woman's point of view. It enlightens me. It gives me views of the world that I would otherwise miss. I appreciate their nurturing nature. I like how soft they feel. Hold a woman's hand? That is sure to send shivers up my spine. Lock lips? If that is not what heaven feels like send me else I'll take my chances there. There is nothing like that first kiss. I can walk all day with her as if it were a minute in time. I float on air. I am a romantic. I adore women. I love the way they walk the way they smell. Hugging or spooning it's all good. The opposite sex is very special. It is time we listened more and appreciated more. Women can lead us to the proverbial Promised Land. No! I'm kidding. I like staring at their tits.
16~10~2014


Copyright © Maurice Yvonne | Year Posted 2014

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COP A FEEL - BREAST CANCER AWARENESS CAMPAGIN

Breasts, boobies, knockers, tits – call them what you will We are talking about breast cancer – and sadly it can kill The key to success with catching the disease is early detection Remember boobies aren’t just funbags to give a fella an erection Breasts can be appreciated in the their own unique way Have a feel for lumps make it a sexy game to play Let him ‘cop a feel’ and if a lump you do detect Go straight to the GP - this lump you mustn’t neglect It can be simply that you have lumpy boobs or a cyst It’s not necessarily cancer but it can be on the list The GP will send you for a mammogram or scan Mammograms aren’t comfy, staff do it as quickly as they can Hopefully the results will put your mind at rest But sadly sometimes it shows cancer of the breast Early detection is the key to beating this cancer Regular mammograms really are the answer Don’t forget about the men they have pecs or moobs They can get breast cancer too we are talking about ALL boobs Jan Allison 17th October 2014 October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, which is an annual campaign to increase awareness of the disease – remember breast cancer affects both males and females with 1 in 1000 males being diagnosed with breast cancer


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2014

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Living With It

It crouches above the ripe strawberry of her left nipple -
a swelling blot on the flawless skinscape of her breast;
a mortality reminder, a dead bell echoing in her ear,
eclipsing future hope and all she holds dear.
Mornings, in the bathroom, she absently fingers it
and feels the ice-curl of chill around her heart

as subterranean steam February-frosts the mirror with a hazy gleam.
Nightly she lies thigh-to-thigh with him.
He tastes the vanilla butter scent of her skin.
She tastes horror's metallic tang, crushing close to him,
sweaty with anxiety and morbid with imaginings,
slipping through the cradle of his arms, that fault-line crack,

as the earth and her world quietly shatter apart.
And she knows words are helpless to hold back the fear-frosted air.
The horror is strung between them, taut as a tightrope
across which creep all her figures of fear -
the dream demons who whisper constantly in her ear.
And all she wants is normality's reassuring touch -

a benign, safe hand upon her arm.
She tries to hide within the details of daily living
and takes small comfort where she can:
mundane morning rituals, clatter of diurnal routine;
dishes dunked in foam-bubble water,
telephones ringing, voices asking.

Snowdrifts of hospital appointments pile up on a table.
And she feels isolate and separate as a snowflake;
a temporal frailty melting on the heat-pulse of humanity.
She no longer feels human.
Cells mushroom and proliferate within her body's twisting maze;
sickness spreading through labyrinthine arteries,

darkness shadowing veins' corridors, gathering in nodes.
A hidden malignity glitters in the web of infinity;
her skin shimmers ice-iridescent with radiation.
Cold mornings close in.
She prepares antioxidant-rich fruit in a bowl,
slicing strawberries with surgical precision.


Copyright © Charlotte Jade Puddifoot | Year Posted 2011

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On Turning Fifty

A five and a zero.
Numbers.
The big one creeping up,
Five...
Four three two one!
The countdown has begun
The race is on.
Big one creeping up so fast
I can hear the crack of the gun.
The big five... Oh
My mother didn't make it past.
I've been told that that's your big one,
Your own ceiling of glass;
That it creeps into your psyche,
Your parents to outlast.
I've been working for a while
To quit smoking before forty,
Success five years too late.
Five to go, the age that she was shortly.
Fifteen years six months eight days between us
Is as close as we ever got.
I don't need closer now,
I have a second shot;
I almost died with no idea what hit me,
A tragic but not sad how.
So to me it does occur
To slowly drown as your lungs fill
Is to fill a fate 
I would much rather defer.

17.04.08

For On Turning Fifty Contest


Copyright © Maureen McGreavy | Year Posted 2017

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Innocence

He called me that S word again
deadly threats with His pen
a coincidence in disguise
I now seek out other guys

Revirgin Mary I willn't be
alive in fantasy with thee
mercy falls with whips
silent lay the chips

Twist me turn me
I won't say a word
you killed your credibility
when you called me "turd"

I collaborate then dominate
the way you like to play
tomorrow turns happiness
so long deity and gay



Copyright © raw thinker | Year Posted 2017

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I'm my Daddy Made Over

Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013


I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over

Taught me to fight back 
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over

He gave me my stubbornness 
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over

How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over

Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on 
I may stumble I may fall 
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over


Sabrina Niday Hansel



Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

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We Lost More Than a Dad

We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost half of how we came to be
We lost we four girls first love
We lost our Best Friend

We lost more than just a Dad that day
Our Mom lost her Soul Mate, Her other half 
Our children lost their Papaw
We lost our family’s foundation 
We lost the glue that held us together

We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost the Strongest man we ever knew 
We lost the man we looked up too
We lost we four girls Teacher of many things

We lost more than just a Dad that day
We four girls lost our Hero
We lost some of our Light
We lost part of our Heart
We lost part of our Soul

We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost some of our Courage
We lost some of our Strength
We lost some of our will to fight back
We lost some of our will to carry on
We four girls lost more than a Dad
We lost more than just a Dad that day


Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013

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For Suzanne, Green and Golden

“The October night comes down; returning as before
Except for a slight sensation of being ill at ease
I mount the stairs and turn the handle of the door
And feel as if I had mounted on my hands and knees.”
----- “Portrait of a Lady;” T. S. Eliot

A golden afternoon,
Late October, and my thoughts
Are all of you, Suzanne…
Vestiges of your being
Appear on visages of 
A hundred different people;
But none are you, not one 
As green,  as golden.

Hard it is to know no miracle
Will mend, no giddy hope assuage,
The scourge that slowly puts an end
To our valiant green and golden girl.
Memory takes us to days of indolence,
Of innocence, of children lying on a levee,
Deep in lush, green, summer clover --
In sunlight almost as golden
As your hair -- beside a flowing river
Bearing away our golden hours
And the painless green  of youth.
 
Now, in your green room, reclined
In shadow, our golden girl reposes.
Your courage lights the coming night
That does not dim the gold and green
You always shared, and still you share.


Copyright © Leo Larry Amadore | Year Posted 2013

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A Child's View of Death

A Child’s View of Death

People say now that Grandpa was thin
But he had plump cheeks; cancer had set in 

Each Sunday penny candy in my hand he’d place
And with rugged hands he’d embrace my face

To an impetuous toddler, his cigars smelled foul
But I don’t remember him ever sporting a scowl

On the way to mass my hand he’d squeeze
And no one ever mentioned his disease

But I’ll not forget the way mama cried
When she hugged me and said Grandpa had died

Though yellow tulips bloomed outside
I entered that parlor where emotions ran high

Grandpa looked peaceful, like he was asleep
I walked softly toward him, not making a peep

Where was that smile I’d come to expect
Not one movement could I detect

It can cause harm taking preschoolers to funerals
Death viewings can be the most frightening rituals

Fear lingered for months as I dreamt of him
Lying in a coffin, his skin cold and face grim

Children should remember those who have passed
Alive and happy, the way they’d seen them last

A fear of death plagued me for many years
I couldn’t accept that good people disappear

From our lives, to be buried in the ground
In thoughts of this loss, my spirits drowned

It wasn’t till later I realized the eternal life of souls
And that in both forms of life, we each have our roles

Be sure to tell little ones of God’s special home
And how our deceased loved ones sit by His throne

In coming to terms with this revelation
I learned to see death as a new life’s creation



*For Lay's "Darkest Childhood Memory" Challenge


Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011

Details | Cancer Poem | Create an image from this poem.

A Mothers Last Goodbye

“Good-bye my daughter dear,” she said As tears welled up in her eyes “It’s time for me to go to sleep This must be no surprise The good Lord knows my battles And my health is ailing still He’s given me so many blessings I’ve passed them to you in my will I’m sad to say good-bye For we have shared much joy Remember me to Sarah My grandchild I love and enjoy I love you my daughter These years together have been sweet I’m so glad you love the Lord And again we will meet I’m not afraid of dying ‘Cause I know that in a while Christ will call me from my grave I feel my life has been worthwhile For I taught you to seek your Father To help you through every trial He’ll always be there to guide you With never a denial I leave you in His hands”, she said As she gently kissed her daughter’s hand Her eyes closed very slowly Against cancer she’d lost her stand She’d been a wonderful mother Teacher and true friend Faithful to her Lord And gracious to the end. Copyright © Maureen LeFanue 2007-2012


Copyright © MAUREEN LEFANUE | Year Posted 2012

Details | Cancer Poem | Create an image from this poem.

MY ANXIETY

I look at the calendar Check the date and time My appointment looms Just three days to go I light a lavender scented candle And inhale the soothing scent It calms my nerves Only three days to go I dread the though of the mammogram machine Squeezing and squashing my breasts Will my lump turn out to be cancer Or just a benign cyst Just three days to go Just three days to go And then I may know Anxiety Contest Sponsored by Lewis Raynes 02~25~17 I discovered a lump in my breast and my mammogram is on 28th Feb which is Shrove Tuesday or pancake day. I have to see the humourous side of it … it sure will squash my breasts as flat as pancakes.


Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2017

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An Ordinary Man

I want to be inspired to write
    a song people really want to sing;
I want to be inspired to compose
    a requiem for the King;
But, I’m just an ordinary man
    doing the best I can
        at writing poems
            that have no homes.

I want to be inspired to find
    a cure for this cancer thing;
I want to be inspired to reach
    out for the golden ring;
But, I’m just an ordinary man
    doing the best I can
        at getting by
            with the good old college try.

I want to be inspired to lead
    a revolutionary coup;
I want to be inspired to be
    the best at everything I do;
But, I’m just an ordinary man
    doing the best I can
        to make ends meet
            and not live on the street.

I have the motivation;
I’ll put in the perspiration;
I can give it concentration;
But, I lack the inspiration;

Inspire me.
What will it take to inspire me?

I want to be inspired to write
    a song people really want to sing;
I want to be inspired to compose
    a requiem for the King;
But, I’m just an ordinary man
    doing the best I can
        at writing poems
            that have no homes.


Copyright © Joe Flach | Year Posted 2011

Details | Cancer Poem | Create an image from this poem.

Dear King-

# oi KING Mandalay

Influence by the element of air,
You had me at love’s first stare.

Ruled by the element of your water,
Emotions no one can slaughter.

You call upon me like a charmer,
Awaken me out of my outer body armor.

A cobra memorized by your romance,
With a trance of my belly snake dance,

I love your built confidence,
Flirtatiously lost in a hypnotic trance.

Sending a kiss to your sensitive toy,
One day you will be my silly boy.

Your dots fill up my sensual desire,
My passion adds burn to your fire.

I will add water to your thirst.
Motivate me; energize me, until I burst.

While the moon changes your mood,
Your key turns on my womanly jewels of nude.

All my emotions are out of control,
You roll me with the sweet dice of your soul.

A deep erotic ritual to feed the need.
Wanting more arousing the power of my greed.

I will aimlessly satisfy your pleasure of lust,
A loving environment absorbing the devils exotic dust.

Symbolizing our emotions and likes on the same level,
Your Cancer sign comes all twisted like a Tasmania devil.

Influencing the justice with my right hand muffet,
My Libra sign set on two strings like a puppet.

I will shove the love in to everything we speak of,
Secure my bloom with the wings of a dove.

Spoil me with your pride, and charisma of your heart,
Fantasize the beauty of the nature of our art.

Longing your slight touch with a hint of aggressive,
Around you I bury myself in the world of imaginative.

Your sign and element your gift thrives on me.
I exchange the feelings only you see.

Observe me; connect me, until you got my balance,
Have me, love me, and give me all your romance.

All though your ego gets in the way of truth.
My sweet love;-)  you are still the one I choose.


By: P.D.


Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2010

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In Twenty Four Hours

In twenty four hours life can drastically change.....

One moment blissfully happy walking on cloud nine
Thinking life is beautiful and wonderful, oh so divine
Then something happens that fills you with despair
Feels like you have been sent to hell without a prayer

Maybe doctors tells you have some incurable disease
Up to the heavens you look, reciting desperate pleas
Or you have cancer and you must battle for your life
It is like being stabbed in the gut with an invisible knife

You find out the one you adore, no longer loves you
The life your shared together is suddenly bid adieu 
Or you lose a loved one, death causes so much pain
Barely holding self together, trying not to go insane

In twenty four hours life can drastically change.....

One moment living a life filled with sorrow and strife
Questioning your fate and the purpose of your life
Then somethings happens that fills you full of hope
A glimmer of an incline instead of a downward slope 

Your disease is treatable, quality of life still intact
You decide to fight with all you got, stop being attacked
Your cancer has gone into remission, life is yours once more 
You promise to live each moment fully, like you never did before

A person enters your life and shows you what love truly is about
This special love will last forever, this you know without a doubt
A newborn enters your life whom you cherish and adore
The unconditional love of a child, no one could ask for more.

In twenty four hours life can drastically change.....

It's how you chose to deal with life curves is what really matters
Try to be positive and not let negative thoughts rip you into shatters
Find the courage and the strength to face each day anew
Everyone has hurdles that their trying to live through

Their is always someone that is far worse off than you
Let family and friends help hold you together like glue
Remember you matter to those that hold you dear
Have faith and hope, don't let yourself succumb in fear

Don't dwell on yesterdays sorrows, for you can't change the past
Tomorrow is beyond our control and comes without being asked
Live for today and deal with each battle as they come
For your life is the last thing you should abstain from!


Copyright © Cecilia Macfarlane | Year Posted 2013

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Hit Me With Your Best Shot

C'mon you ole devil, take your best shot!
You kidding? That's it? Is that all you got?
I know where I'M going; He's saved me a spot
I'll warn you once more in case you forgot
You're messing with one of God's children

I'm CHOSEN, you see and that is my role
You WILL NOT BEAT ME if that is your goal
You may take my body but can't touch my soul
Go back and gnaw in your fiery red hole!
You're messing with one of God's children

I'm STRONG from the trials that I have been through
The fears and the tears from paying what's due
I've felt His wrath and His grace and love too
I've seem much tougher than the likes of you!
You're messing with one of God's children

I'm bald as a baby's naked behind
My chest is a wreck but you won't hear ME whine!
My looks ain't the book on how I'm defined
You might wanna bear this thought in your mind
You're messing with one of God's children

Go bug someone else you think you might scare!
Someday I'll sit back in my rocking chair
With those who I love, laughing at despair
If not, that's okay, I'm in my Lord’s care
You're messing with one of God's children!

*Dedicated to my daughter who is a breast cancer survivor
 


  



Copyright © Tim Ryerson | Year Posted 2015