moves stealthily from corner to corner, hides in the nooks and crannies.
Selling uranium to Putin through CFIUS
Made less social sense than contracting syphilis
Unless to grow a Global reset chrysalis
Aiding American transformation abyss.
Putin may well employ Wyoming yellow cake
To cower Europeans with nuclear bake
Candled with cancerous cumulus mushroom clouds,
Granting his covering Ukraine with a death shroud.
Shattered glass, around my feet,
every where I go,
every where I turn.
My plans, my dreams, all shattered,
at my feet, and I'm to walk on them.
This is not survivor,
but a soldier,
it's a battle, and I am its victim.
Cruel life, it laughs at me,
but all I can do is stay silent.
It has bitten into my bones,
squeezing my life out of my body and soul.
Now that I know the truth in me,
I cannot flee myself,
I let the ill wind blow in my face,
until it will blow me away from this platform
to my grave.
Nothing is ever so cancerous.
6/8/2019
For 'tis 'bout my little hero since Apollo's first arrow, cancerous
sign to be, at a hospital, a start of many visits and stays.
How he slayed the beast within him, with his smiles,
and challenged the doctors, whereto, remission was his
reward, yet, the tinged of fake gold, he returned to
fight onward, 'tis my little hero, he fights on.
Silent Olympus, for recent did I know, that I, myself was
in remission, 'tis my little hero that made it so, until I beheld
a penny, my illness of ten years that was in solitude,
hast returned.
'Tis my little hero, liken to you, I too returned to pain and suffering,
for the remnants of Bacchus hast fled and with it, my remission of
ten years of joy, hast gone, left for the goddess Moneta to bring
back to me, my little hero, time and time again.
*Apollo, god whose arrows causes illness.
*Olympus, home of the gods & goddesses.
*Bacchus, god of wine & merriment.
*Moneta, goddess of memory.
Date: 05/26/2019
The Topic Of Cancer Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: craig cornish
It burns and i bear it, teeth clenched and grinding,
stomache; churned while my head is still churning,
nostalgia takes hold of my soul for the binding,
effulgent in glow, but the texture is yearning,
I wither; a slave to myself and no other,
I falter; a moment of weakness forsakes me,
I fall, and yet it feels like I'm flying,
I rise.. only to find myself withered,
I'm stained.... by the depths of my doubts....
like cancer it plagues me; buried and burrowing........
.......................please rinse me out
your love was a mistake
a white inkstain on my black heart
it started in my blood and filled my lungs
until i spat up a bloody beautiful mess of words
and yet you ate it
and yet again spat it back at me
and now i feel as if
nothing will ever be the same
Crazy and Caring
Adorable and Appealing
Nice and Naughty
Cute and Curious
Energetic and Electrifying
Relaxed and Relentless
___________________
Double Cancer acrostic
for Danielle White's
Acrostic Astrology contest.
Economics
money depleting
wall street crashes
I'm scared for tomorrow
debt
Aureate, curls on my bed,
On a bleak morning, cross out
"Day ten" - eighty days left…
It's description is corruption.
A continuous rape of pride and health
that nests within your walls of life.
Eats your body, drinks your blood,
Satan’s imitation of the crucifixion.
A candle of white set upon by dripping tar,
snuffed the flame and floating on it's breath.
Invading death. . .that rubs against the ivory bone.
Spectrums collapse and leave behind the somber shades
that rub with time, as faith decays.
As flesh constricts, draws closer to it's source,
Skeletal exposure.
Cancerous composure.
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.