Best In Remission Poems
I come to your bedside once more,
you've poured our photos and poetry on the floor
an act of apostasy, a grim admission, the room in dim depression,
laying on your side , cheeks heated and soaked in sorrow, your joy in remission,
Refusing to look at me, as if seeing this face would invite a fatal grief,
hating me yet loving me because I am the wound waking belief,
a living scar fueling faith in the survival of our love,
needing me to be your spiritual shove,
I lay along you, gripping your tender arm, still, you do not disarm,
the tip of my nose surfs the skin of your shoulder, I smell the tears of my harm,
trying to explain that love is never wrong, that in your heart is where I belong
you roll into my chest, a gorgeous heat of anger escapes your glare,the sting strong,
in a fevered whimper, throat bubbled, you ask, how can I dare love you in absentia,
how can you love a kiss that cuts, a breath that bruises, nails of nostalgia,
oh how love makes us suffer for the truth of our hearts,
I say, there is no absence within the Absolute, a fusion of soul parts,
The onomatopoeia of my heart is ready to be splayed into you,
I kiss bite the supple muscle of your neck, you release a searing sigh
the air spiced with the oil of a woman's want,
I need the salvation of your hot opening, I yearn to super charge your core,
my balls, plump and heavy fall over your thigh, breast spread softly,
your hands enveloping my back, heels hooking around calves
the root of my Being swells to true and thick form
red oak stretching into your moistened magenta earth,
tenderloins contracting, pushing, smacking,
a metamorphosis matures to cure our crisis,
I can see in your eyes a soul that flies
on a light beam without ending,
one touch more and death will be a thing of lies,
rebuild love with me and find warmth never wanning,
we become Angels with no age
lovers without rage or confusion,
a new universe of raw pleasure and instincts sage,
dreams witnessed in the sweat and steam of sacred revolution -
J.A.B.
Sue had been so proud of her curvaceous figure and considered her pert breasts were her outstanding feature. Sadly, breast cancer runs in her family and now she too had fallen victim to this cruel disease.
both breasts are removed
mastectomy surgery
hot tears start to fall
Chemotherapy sessions take its toll on her entire body, with constant sickness she feels so exhausted. Her weight plummets and her clothes hang from her frail frame.
her crowning glory
lost with each stroke of the brush …
golden tresses fall
Twelve months later Sue receives the news she had been dreaming of … she is finally in remission. Reconstruction surgery has been scheduled and soon she hopes to look and feel like a woman again. Her weight is back to normal and glamourous wigs cover her wispy hair.
in sickness and health
their marriage vows hit home hard
husband at her side
Let The Pens Flow - Haibun Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jenish Somadas
08/15/20
winter approaches
snowflakes tumble from the sky-
a sprinkle of white
As brisk breezes scatter leaves around,
Autumn colors confetti the ground.
Winter winds howl through barren branches
blowing off any remaining leaves.
Mother Nature is in transition;
stripping the scenery yet again.
The naked trees are in remission;
till Spring showers, water them with rain,
and green canopies, supplant the plain.
He was only a puppy
A golden retriever
I would whistle and beckon
but he wouldn't leave her
For she was his owner
His only true friend
and he stayed with my sister
Right up to the end .
In her early twenties
She found that lump in her breast
In the fight for her life
She must now invest
I remember so well
The tears in our home
Dad bought her that dog
That she so wanted to own .
She must find the courage
To stand and to fight
Sandy made her smile
Much to my parents delight
Only a small boy
I wanted to play
In her moments of darkness
My sister pushed me away .
He was only a puppy
A golden retriever
I would whistle and beckon
but he wouldn't leave her
For she was his owner
His only true friend
and he stayed with my sister
Right up to the end .
I played schoolboy games
She fought like a tiger
I climbed little tree's
She was climbing the Eiger
Sandy was there
To help her recover
I know he understood
Much more than her little brother.
I remember the doctor
Claiming she was in remission
Now I played with Sandy
With my sisters permission
I took him for walks
Because I had energy to burn
but I knew something was wrong
When the doctor returned .
He was only a puppy
A golden retriever
I would whistle and beckon
but he wouldn't leave her
For she was his owner
His only true friend
and he stayed with my sister
Right up to the end .
Sad realisation
No more can be done
Tearful birthday
As she turned thirty one
When I close my eyes
I still see sandy's head on her knee
My sister finding the courage
To smile for me .
Bed in the living room
She can't climb the stair
When the lord called her name
Sandy was there
When I heard him whimper
I knew my sister had gone
Up until that very last moment
He had helped her stay strong .
He was only a puppy
A golden retriever
I would whistle and beckon
but he wouldn't leave her
For she was his owner
His only true friend
and he stayed with my sister
Right up to the end .
girl in remission
she laughs at each crashing wave
today she is queen
Feeding
Operations
Spinal taps
Bone marrows
Saving lives
Parents crying
Children dying
Clinging to life
On a hope
Wishful thinking
Prolonged results
Death is eminent
Praying in pause
Attached to machines
To stay alive
Battling for time
Gasping for breath
Inhaling oxygen
Keeping you stable
With positive thinking
To ease the pain
Only for so long
Until it strikes back again
Fighting to survive
Through another day
Never giving up
To the last moment
Exhausting all possibilities
Before letting go
Of a sad fate
Illness in remission
Or way to late
BLANKET COMFORT
so tenderly, he takes the blanket
covered with red dots and grandma love
tucked all around his eight year old frame
my tooth pain in remission while i sleep
he places the soft and tender blanket
over my legs, sharing the warmth
Kim Rodrigues © 2017
Movie: Untamed Heart
"AN UNTAMED HEART HAPPENED TO BE
MY BELOVED'S WEAKNESS"
A first date is so full of lingering whispers and sweet romances,
AN UNTAMED HEART can beat faster given many wonderful chances-
He held my hand gently as we shared silly nervous glances,
to think it all started being in the same high school classes.
We saw a moving picture of a young ill man with a heart condition,
it was no coincidence that this story HAPPENED to be non-fiction-
See, this man I was falling in love was diagnosed by his pediatrician,
since a young boy he suffered from leukemia but now he’s in remission.
When I heard the news that same night sitting at the down town bistro,
my heart broke in a million pieces and at first I wanted TO quickly go-
But my intuition remained at peace as I listened and went with the flow,
for I realized my soul had been connected to this man I longed to know.
With our hearts untamed we had uncontrollable desirous nights,
passion beyond comprehension noticing each other’s magnificent sights-
I thirsted for his touch and we craved to reach all the fervent heights,
he needed me to walk down the aisle, and BE his kindle to ignite.
Remission can only last so long and I knew the day would arrive,
when MY BELOVED'S health would decline and he would not survive-
The end of his life was spent in a hospital bed when he was only thirty-five,
the blue line went flat and his debilitated heart they could not revive.
I stayed and held his hand and laid my head upon his warm chest,
it was tamed with WEAKNESS as my heart was still full of zest-
Little did I know at sixteen this heartbreak would be my greatest test,
I took a sigh of relief, for my beloved’s heart was finally at peaceful rest.
Movie Mania Contest
Sponsor: Nicola Byrne
Date Written: September 12, 2016
That curious Roman official
named "Lentulus" with foresight recorded
his description of a Man controversial.
And His name too, for prosperity accorded
That Man who the Roman so aspired
was named Jesus, that Man of Awe,
And Lentulus was one of few who desired
that Man Jesus to portray and hence to annals store.
So wont was Lentulus to see and hear
what that Man Jesus preached and said,
That he followed Him for a while, everywhere,
So that the verity of his narration could by all be read,
Then went on to relate what he saw,
A Man of serene composture who courtly stood
and how His prescence the crowds would draw
and hungered the more on the words that inspired good.
Of average height, just on fifteen and a half fists tall
His nut-brown hair smoothed down at the side
forming soft flowing curls, that did fall
to below His shoulders with luxuriant pride,
His beard boasted long and full, the same colour of His hair,
Both His hair and beard neatly parted the middle down,
As with the way that all of Nazarines share,
And on a reddish face not a wrinkle, spot or frown.
His eyes wide set with an unusual capacity for expression
coloured blue-grey, exuding a sadness from within,
Yet cheerful of countenance with seriousness held in remission,
Sometimes seen to weep, not ever to laugh or sing,
Though His feet were bare, He stood regally composed
He lived in troubled times with much woe abound,
For there were those around, who would oppose
Him for the freedom and peace His voice did sound.
Now through what Lentulus and others alike, did relay,
Artists and painters centuries ago, with care
did Jesus to canvas, with dilligence portray,
And His likeness to the world's peoples share,
So that His teachings now so revered
became all the more potent with vision aglared,
For His words of enlightenment can so astound,
But just in His Prescence alone can the Spirit abound.
It comes in many shapes and forms
Some from abuse some from wars
Others include accidents or death
One thing is real they are all bereft
I'm talking about ptsd in remission
Anyone can suffer from this condition
It is always there in the mind
Helpless lonely feeling blind
To help these people you must be strong
Sometimes it's tiring and days are long
Be there for them when they call
To you it may appear so small
Give them a hug if there are down
If there tears are flowing don't just frown
Listen to them as their fears unfold
Pull up your chair as experiences are told
Once they've spoken do not mock
There mind is ticking like a cuckoo clock
If you do they may implode
Or worst still totally explode
What they need is a reason to live
You are the power and need to give
Don't condescend and say normal stuff
It will be ok is not enough
Find something they can grab hold
A purpose in life that can't be sold
A feeling of a accomplishment is a must
Alot to give and gain there trust
Once this hurdle has been broken
Many other things will be spoken
Listen intently and offer advice
Whatever you do don't patronise
If you struggle and can't complete
Liase with a charity who you can meet
They will help you save this friend
Ptsd is a killer and that needs to end
Eight years since I picked up a drink,
rock bottom hit me
as hard as a wall-
I’ve had ninety-six months to reflect and think,
but before you run you
have to learn how to crawl.
There’s no cure for addiction, I had an allure for affliction-
Healing comes in time when you surrender the prescription.
Without the desire to swallow a pill,
without the craving of feeling desperate,
I’ve realized the only
space I needed to fill,
was the hole where I was inconsiderate.
Eight years since I carried selfish greed,
not thinking about my
daughter in her youth-
I wasn’t there for her every little need,
I regret that everyday…
...honest to God truth.
Letting go of my fears filled my soul with crimson tears-
Pleading for atonement brought my faith back in each moment.
There’s no cure for a hard habit to break,
just a choice to stay in remission-
So many hard steps I have had to take,
and taken many a walk into submission.
My fears washed away-
the night has given me day.
Healing comes in time when
you understand it’s only God’s way.
Through faith and prayer I’ve learned to care
about myself and the ones whom I hurt badly-
Life isn’t whole with an addicted soul,
and the depth of honesty I’ve learned…sadly.
Eight years since I left my old life,
time flies,
yet yesterday seems so near-
Now I focus on being a good mother and wife,
and bestow my serenity to...
...those I hold dear.
Eight years ago today was the beginning of
my wonderful life. I suffered from addiction for
many years and fought hard and overcame so
many obstacles. Sure, I have regrets but more
joy to fill the hole I used to have in my heart.
I was 29 when I got sober and I am grateful I
was so young. Now I have the rest of my life
to live healthy, moderately and happily...
May God bless the afflicted...
March 7, 2017
I won't be home
not For Christmas
nor for funerals
not for birthdays
Wanted to never see you
on those days so hard to get through.
When you abandoned the sweetness
and chased your dream into the alley
When you thought it best to see me cry!
When your mind changed with the direction of the wind
I stood there with spit on my fingertips...
holding my hand in the air, Waiting for the winds of hope
to blow your love and loyalty in my direction
Home is a strange city
where no one knows me.
where no one will invite me to sit across the table
and try to smile as I play with my stuffing on china with flowers
As I remember the children laughing and opening gifts.
I remember the long silent ride back to our house.
I think back when I got on my knees
before climbing into our cold bed
The prayers just uttered coming back void.
Ask God to just let you touch me again
I needed your body-heat to keep warm.
I needed your support to continue on
for the sake of the commitment.
For the sake of waiting for love to remind you
Even if pity could hold you there...
I would not be ashamed of what you sacrificed
When love had given birth to pity-
I would have held on without pride.
Now I never want to come back to that town.
Where no one cares that you don't love me.
I am in remission.
Alone but it's OK.
Please tell our future to visit me.
On the seashores.
The sun warms me in
my new home
where no one knows me.
All my old friends are
dead and dying. So...
I won't be home
not For Christmas
nor for funerals
not for birthdays
Wanted to never see you
on those days so hard to get through.
Just my spirit and the ocean.
and one day tell our grandchildren
Grandma will be here walking;
With one finger in the air moistened with spit.
to see which way the wind blows.
She battles fatigue
by road climbing and painting
bolder palettes splash
on flamed wigs, on glossed canvas…
with punk, outracing mad cells
Monster tissues grow
yet lust for life soothes barbed pain
caroling to stars
and praying 'neath hopeful moon...
“I bless unforgiving C. ”
Past stage 1, she jousts;
vicious fibers lose the chase
her zest, not anger
conquers lymph nodes' erosion…
scaling roads, painting fresh scenes!
---------
For dear friend Eena who is in remission;
may you live fully!
Contest of PD: PINKOCTOBER
If the doctor gave you a month to live
Could you keep that to your self?
Could you swallow your fear for thirty days
And keep your secret stealth
"You could possibly make it through Christmas", he said
"If there's chemo in your veins"
So she silenty took the treatment, once more
And still she never complains
She'd been in remission for seven years
But again it started to grow
Her children knew that the cancer returned
But her secret, they didn't know
She would only tell her brother the news
And he swore he wouldn't tell
So Christmas finally came and went
But it was to be their last Noel
Then on the tenth day of January
She took her secret to her grave
After she died her children were told
Of this sacrifice she gave
She wanted this Christmas to be the best
A Christmas like no other
For she didn't want her kids to be sad
This woman was my mother
I'll never forget watching the color drain from your face the day you were diagnosed
I turned into a ghost myself, it's one of the days I hated the most
Dreadful were the thoughts of seeing you suffer
Yet, the willpower you showed was so much tougher
Your body was weak, the the cancer was taking its toll
Who would have thought something like this would have become of a mole?
The chemo treatments made you so sick
My head was spinning,it all happened so quick
I felt so helpless and shocked, this couldn't be real
I was so saddened you always seem to get the raw end of the deal
Oh dear Lord please spare the one I love
Please shine down some hope and strength from up above
I wanted so badly to take away all of your pain
There was so much to lose and nothing to gain
This awful disease was slowly killing you
I was never quite as strong as you and tried to hide that it was killing me too
You were in remission,but the cancer came back
Through it all I was amazed by the beautiful smile you were still able to crack
You fought your battle so hard for so long
Yet, your heart still danced to a beautiful song
You were a beautiful soul both inside and out
Strong, brave and courageous described you without a doubt
There was nothing about any of this that was at all fair
Unfortunately,cancer doesn't seem to care
No one will ever really understand why
Once a colorful butterfly now as a beautiful angel you spread your wings and fly high
I prayed so hard for a different answer
In life and in death our love will always be stronger then cancer