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...

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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
  ...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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
  ...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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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...

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Our story takes place in the mid sixteen hundreds,
Filled with (not so) fresh corpses and newly beloveds.
The stench of Black Death had choked all of...

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