Long Breast cancer Poems
Long Breast cancer Poems. Below are the most popular long Breast cancer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Breast cancer poems by poem length and keyword.
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 ****.
16~10~2014
Today, I take this walk
A walk for the cure
I will stand for the ones
Who sees life as a blur
Finding out the the most devastating news
Feeling upset,hurt and confused
A disease that affects the body
It makes you feel strange
Adapting to A new life
Adapting to A new change
Chemotherapy, radiations
So many trials and tribulations
My heart goes out to what you're facing
I'll wear this ribbon ?? with pride
And if you ever need a friend
I'll be right by your side
It takes a lot to understand
That this illness wont get the upper hand
A transformation you did go through
Lumps in your breast
Losing your hair, wearing wigs this is something new
No longer knowing who you are
In our hearts you're still a star
It takes Courage, even when you feel discouraged
It takes faith, even when you cant see clear
You are our Hope
From the climbing of a rope
You are the strength
You are strong
You fought this battle
But not alone
A moment of silence
Goes to the ones who didn't survive
You were great
We'll continue to keep your legacy alive
I salute you, yes I do
No more suffering or pain
We release these balloons
In honor and remembrance of your name
With these two feet
I walk for You
Susan G. Komen and so many others
You are my inspiration
You have did everything its taken
You're amazing this is true
The Illness cant get the best of you
Women oh no ?? this is not just for you
Men are known to get it to
I love you and you have all my respect
Do me a favor everyone please go get checked!!!!!!
Written By:Concetta Hardnett
10/21/2015
Most folks I loved
died when I was in my thirties.
Not just people,
but our San Francisco bohemian mecca lifestyle,
our 365 days and nights celebration
turned into an epidemic of waiting
and watching
and mourning our losses,
wondering about possibilities of survival.
What could remain for us,
for me,
for this place?
What could become my purpose
our passion
for any lonely future of diaspora survivors?
Then, in my early forties,
my closest remaining friend,
a happily married matriarch
with two adolescent children,
died of breast cancer.
Perhaps this was my final straw.
I have not constructed any deep
and reciprocal
friendships since.
This reminds me of my maternal grandfather,
who lived into his eighties
but as his quantity of years continued
his quality of celebrated convivial life shrank
through loss of two wives
and all their friends,
his generation of neighbors,
and then his hearing.
He told me
not long before he passed
he was not sure
if his loss of hearing was a curse
or a blessing,
prohibiting him from cultivating renewing friendships
only to be lost yet again.
My own hearing is not perfect
yet I seem unwilling to listen
for any more friends,
loved ones I could no better afford to lose
than those already gone.
Yet still I wonder
about therapeutic reasons for my survival.
As fertile celebrations fade to dusty memory,
my capacity to comprehend why I still breathe,
yet my generation of intentional families has long passed,
shrunk to incomprehensible mystery
as did my revered grandfather's hearing.
The best I can hear,
through this epidemic distance,
I rescued by adoption
then by love
four hurt children
no one else wanted,
and each continues teaching me how to love hims and her,
when I listen well,
in their distinctive needy ways and broken means.
Yet even here
with these final four
I night sweat in guilty worry
about how they could best thrive
when I can, at last,
no longer hear them,
nor they me.
Most folks I loved
died when I was young,
leaving me to worry
severed prospects for survival.
I woke up one day and I felt a lump
My thoughts went astray
And I fell into a slump
I googled online for an answer
What came to mind was I had breast cancer
I thought about pink ribbons and clever T-shirts
I thought of all the women who died
And all of their pain and hurts
I thought of my bald head
After rounds of chemo
I’ve never been mountain climbing
I’ve never been to a casino
I’ve never been horseback riding
I’ve never been to Reno
I started writing a will
And all the bills I had to pay
And it wasn’t until I called the doctor
Who diagnosed me right away
My breast began to leak
And it was all in one section
I was relieved and couldn’t speak
It wasn’t breast cancer
It was only an infection
Rose you were such a wise lady and a wonderful friend
I continued to visit you almost to the bitter end
Other friends abandoned you because you were so frail
But I continued visit and see your cheeks pinched and pale
How I miss our chats, we’d eat biscuits and drink tea
You were such a wonderful friend to me
You gave me a hydrangea, its flowers a pretty blue
So never a day passes when I don’t think of you
If we could meet again for one more day
We’d share the gossip and laugh our cares away
I’ll never forget when you taught me to line dance
Prancing around your lounge to songs of sweet romance
You practiced reiki and spiritual healing
You’d help me with issues that I was concealing
I remember that Christmas party, you dressed as a Christmas pud
You had me in hysterics the costume you made was oh so good
Breast cancer stole you away and bitter tears I cried
For we were away on holiday at the time you died
Your anniversary gift in our garden still grows
I think of you every day my lovely friend Rose
Contest - Just one more day
Sponsored by Laura Loo
12~12~15
Rachel
Oh Rachel, my most valued
friend
You were taken to soon in the end
Are first it was breast cancer that you were bound to beat
The radiation burnt you from the heat
They took your breasts and tried to recreate
But something went wrong and you were ok with your fate
They couldn’t do the reconstruction but you were okay
You would live through another day
Fast forward and you were cleared for a year
It brought a lot of joy and cheer
To celebrate you went on a cruise
You knew you had nothing to lose
During the vacation something was not right
It brought you into yet another fight
Pancreatic cancer, stage one, it won’t be that bad you said
But soon there would be tears to shed
By the time the surgery was to happen, it went to stage four
They said there was nothing they could do for you anymore
You lived only a few months from that day
We are all left here to continue to pray
You gave with your heart and always lent an ear
Always so happy and never had fear
As you fought, you had kindness and grace
Always calming others and never a sad face
The one thing you asked was to take care of your boys
The cancer didn’t care what it destroys
My heart and mind thinks of you all the time
Taking you too soon was a crime.
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
A letter from Bristol arrived on my doorstep
I knew its contents would cause me such pain
An invitation for a routine mammogram –
My Goodness …two years have flown past again
I arrived at the breast-screening center
And sat down on a bright lime green chair
The x ray room I soon would enter
I’d have to strip off my pink underwear
The radiologist asked me some questions -
Did I have any worries about my breasts…
I replied they were droopy and sagging
And no longer pert on my chest!
The radiologist laughed at my answer
My humour really did break the ice
We discussed the detection of breast cancer
She listened and was so very nice
It was time for the dreaded deed to be done
Each breast squashed as flat as a pancake
Two images were taken of each compressed one
Good grief my boobies don’t half ache!
A few moments discomfort can detect cancer
Soon the pain was gone from my Bristol Cities
Early detection is really the answer
And in two years they will re squash my titties!
09~23~16
(Bristol Cities is cockney rhyming slang for titties)
In shadows cast by doubt and fear,
A battle rages, ever near.
Yet, in the depths of darkest night,
I find the strength to stand and fight.
With breast cancer's cruel hand at play,
I face the storm, come what may.
But in my heart, a fire burns bright,
For I am God's own child of light.
Created for greatness, I boldly declare,
No illness shall bind me in despair.
With every breath, I rise above,
Embracing hope, embracing love.
Though the road is rough, I will not retreat,
For victory lies within, my spirit replete.
With each step forward, I reclaim my might,
For greatness awaits, in the dawn's first light.
So, let the world bear witness, let it see,
The resilience that resides within me.
For though the struggle may be vast,
I am a warrior, and this too shall pass.
Breast cancer may knock, but I'll never fall,
For I am destined to rise, to stand tall.
With faith as my shield and courage my sword,
I march onward, in the name of the Lord.
For I am God's child, created to soar,
And greatness, indeed, I will restore.
By: Innantia Magcanya
CANCER
I was ten when you invaded our family, when my sixty year old grandfather
died with lung cancer and at that time I never really understood it; but knew
it was a deadly disease for two women closed to our family died earlier with
breast cancer and saw both of them suffering and heard them screaming in pain.
You came back when I was twenty taking my grandmother with stomach cancer.
At least that was one of the causes of her death, although not the primary cause.
You came again and again taking my aunt at forty seven and my youngest aunt
at forty eight with breast cancer that made me live in anxiety and scared of you.
Scared because this disease was in our maternal blood line, although the doctor
assured me, it was not a direct blood line for it was not my biological mother.
I had a cyst on my right breast when I was forty four and the doctor asked to
come back to exasperate it and I told him to do it right then with no reservation.
The result came negative; but your shadow never left me, haunting me.
I was thinking my youngest aunt was only five years older than me and we grew
up together living in the same household, eating the same food, doing the
same things until we separated to live our lives when I was twenty or so.
For five years I lived in your shadow wondering, worrying the cyst would come
back and what would happen to me, to my children and the angst never left me.
I was elated when I turned forty nine for I passed my aunts’ ages of forty seven
and forty eight and celebrated for my fear went away; you were out of my mind.
That was twenty years ago and three weeks ago; you took my best friend’s life.
You are an abnormal cell that invades, grows and divides without control to
destroy the nerves, tissues, organs, blood vessels impairing their functions.
You are a complex disease that can be benign or can be malignant that kills.
Like an ivy, a vigorous and aggressive plant that grows out of control choking
other plants, damaging walls and structures and toxic to humans and pets.
Just like different types of cancer in our society, such as greed, corruption,
brutality, materialism, racism, harassment causing havoc, unrest, chaos, killings.
6/11/21 Cancer Ivy Poetry
Chantelle Anne Cooke
I do not know if I truly have ever been granted
divine intervention, but most likely I received it
after my surgery for breast cancer when a biopsy was done
to determine if I was “genetic” for my condition.
After an unbearable three-week wait, I was told
I would need not only radiation but also chemotherapy treatment
to ensure that not one stray cancer cell remained inside me.
The thought of so much treatment (in total nearly five months of it)
simply did not feel right to me! Thus, I agonized over my decision.
After a week of desperate praying
and two days away from having a stent put in my breast,
I found myself in the house of my next door neighbor,
who happened to be a renowed doctor from Canada.
Upon hearing that I was set to have chemotherapy
(even though my tumor had already been removed
and my lymphe nodes were shown clear of cancer)
he and his scientist collegue, whom he quickly got me in touch with,
advised me that I absolutely should NOT undergo the chemotherapy..
I am over five years now cancer-free.
Because of terrible rare side effects I have incurred from another drug
given me AFTER cancer, I feel that God has let me know that
for someone like me, chemotherapy would likely
have been over-kill! If only I’d prayed for confirmation
on the Prolia with which my oncologist had me injected for two whole years.
That was a drug I trusted in for strengthening my bones.
My later deep research into it revealed to me the truth of its dangers.
I have since felt great mistrust for advice from the traditional medical community.
Perhaps it was a lesson God wanted me to learn about modern drugs
and the fact that I must research anything suspicious I take into my body.
I will always be grateful that I received
what I believe to have been a clear-cut answer on chemotherapy
after pouring out my heart in prayer.
Dec. 21, 2021
For the Divine Intervention Poetry Contest of Chantelle Anne Cooke