Best Lymph Poems

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...

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"I am feeling it." He said.
He meant his age. As I watched
I saw a vision…

Out from the cuttlefish bones of his breast
grime coughed up and dribbled.
I saw his heart stutter, the vapid flutter,
watched his lungs belch and utter
like a broken bladder.

A horseman on a creaking...

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There's nothing we can do, the doctor said!
     It was December, nineteen-seventy.
At once, those words exploded in my head
     and pierced my heart- which broke in agony.

How could this be- she's much too young to die
 ...

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I was coming up on 60, when I found a lump in my left breast.
One day of anxiety turned into two weeks of tribulation
as I returned again and again to the hospital for tests.
At last, I got my verdict: level 2 estrogen-driven cancer.
At this time,...

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I remember how I cried
The day my father died.
The doctor laid the blame
When he said that cancer came:
Lymph nodes, lungs,
Philosophy of Carl Jung,
Words of explanation
For everything, no blame,
Too late for shame.

The final service was long.
I tried to be strong.
But the stench of red carnations
Can still...

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In Nursing School

In nursing school they have us learn all the proper medical words,
Because in Greek and Latin we defecate, but we never make turds,
And what's worse than learning about all these dreadful diseases
Is forgetting my English to replace it with obfuscating medicaleses,
Lest we forget...

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Winter dark...solstice etches itself 
on texture of bleak silhouette
ebon in fervor...cycle’s lymph
grips the  inked winds halving the cleft 
between old eve and fresh sunset 
as morn falls on dry ice...asleep,
yet kismet unlocks ...creatures reap 
harvest of new moon’s oath...to keep.

We call to you oh...

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I just made it in time for Mary's funeral, it had been raining
heavily all day but the sun came out through the clouds.
And as I watched her coffin being lowered into the ground,
I was filled with emotions pouring out of my soul.

I recall that typical...

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We cannot do without water,
But it could do without us
If we choose!
 
Bodies of living things are made up 
of mostly water, squashy plants,
Blood and Lymph  included too. 
Without Hydration, the skin as well as
Internal organs would become very dry.

Dry organs cannot function and...

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The Malay Pantun:  The Non-Party Communal Triumvirate

Ursidae carnivora hug and hibernate
   Hypolais polyglottes trill without triumph
Alliance Party* wins and vituperate
   Opposition parties coagulate without lymph

•	The ruling Malaysian communal triumvirate – 
since Independence in 1957.

© T. Wignesan, Paris - 2013...

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She maneuvers gracefully without fins or flippers
creating no ripples in deep blue waters
sneaking calmly upon jittery preys
and disguise herself in the middle of the day

A sudden thrust from beneath the fog
she buries herself under a leafless log
with open jaws and gigantic teeth 
aiming directly at...

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There’s unbearable beauty in crimson…

There are many crimson colored things in this world. How about blades of leaflets during Autumn or the beauty of a McIntosh apple? The most unbearable beauty I know is the color of crimson that poured from your lilies. When you...

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I was working out back, while under the palms
I've a tendon-cy to stand under the limbs
to focus my eyes, and digest the surrounding glands cape
Plantar-d there on the ground was a carpenter ant 
that caught my attention, and that is a fact!

Disarming he was, determined...

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Dance with the stray chance
Change comes crashing cheer
Dream drowsy dizzy daze
Feel fleeting funny face

Laughter looming lasting lymph
Trite troubles toss twisting
Leave lazy loitering lust
Blooms brightly booming bust

Jumpy jester jerks joy
Meek mushy moments move
Lift lousy limping looks
Bearing beyond bright books




Leon Enriquez
20 March 2016
Singapore...

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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...

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