Long Poem Topics

Check out these short poem topics. Find short poems by topic or form.

abortion absence
abuse addiction
adventure africa
age allah
allegory allusion
america analogy
angel anger
angst animal
anniversary anti bullying
anxiety appreciation
april arabic
art assonance
aubade august
autumn baby
bangla baptism
baseball basketball
beach beautiful
beauty bereavement
best friend betrayal
bible bio
bird birth
birthday black african american
blessing blue
boat body
books boxing day
boy boyfriend
break up bridal shower
brother bullying
business butterfly
cancer candy
car care
career caregiving
cat celebration
celebrity change
chanukah character
cheer up chicago
child child abuse
childhood children
chocolate christian
christmas cinco de mayo
cinderella city
class clothes
color columbus day
community computer
confidence conflict
confusion cool
corruption courage
cousin cowboy
crazy creation
crush cry
culture cute love
dad daffodils
dance dark
daughter day
death death of a friend
december dedication
deep depression
desire destiny
devotion discrimination
divorce dog
dream drink
drug earth
earth day easter
education emo
emotions encouraging
endurance engagement
england environment
epic eulogy
eve evil
fairy faith
family fantasy
farewell farm
fashion fate
father father daughter
father son fathers day
fear february
feelings film
fire firework
first love fish
fishing flower
flying food
football for children
for her for him
for kids forgiveness
freedom french
friend friendship
fruit fun
funeral funny
funny love future
games garden
gender giggle
girl girlfriend
giving god
golf good friday
good morning good night
goodbye gospel
gothic graduate
graduation grandchild
granddaughter grandfather
grandmother grandparents
grandson grave
green grief
growing up growth
guitar hair
halloween happiness
happy happy birthday
hate health
heart heartbreak
heartbroken heaven
hello hero
high school hilarious
hindi hip hop
history hockey
holiday holocaust
home homework
hope horror
horse house
how i feel howl
humanity humor
humorous hurt
husband hyperbole
i am i love you
i miss you identity
image imagery
imagination immigration
independence day innocence
insect inspiration
inspirational integrity
international internet
introspection ireland
irony islamic
january jealousy
jesus jewish
jobs journey
joy judgement
july june
kid kindergarten
kiss language
leadership leaving
life light
little sister london
loneliness lonely
longing loss
lost lost love
love love hurts
lust lyric
magic malayalam
marathi march
marriage math
may me
meaningful memorial day
memory men
mental illness mentor
metaphor metrical tale
middle school military
miracle mirror
miss you missing
missing you mom
money moon
morning mother
mother daughter mother son
mothers day motivation
mountains moving on
mum murder
muse music
my child my children
mystery myth
mythology name
native american natural disasters
nature new year
new years day new york
nice niece
night nonsense
nostalgia november
nursery rhyme obituary
ocean october
old onomatopoeia
pain paradise
parents paris
parody pashto
passion patriotic
peace people
perspective pets
philosophy places
planet poems
poetess poetry
poets political
pollution poverty
power prayer
prejudice preschool
presidents day pride
princess prison
proposal psychological
purple quinceanera
race racism
rain rainbow
rainforest rap
raven recovery from
red relationship
religion religious
remember remembrance day
repetition retirement
riddle rights
river romance
romantic rose
roses are red rude
sad sad love
satire scary
school science
science fiction sea
seasons self
senses sensual
september sexy
sick silence
silly silver
simile simple
sin sister
sky slam
slavery sleep
smart smile
snow soccer
social society
softball soldier
solitude sometimes
son song
sorrow sorry
soulmate sound
space spanish
spiritual spoken word
sports spring
star stars
storm strength
stress student
success suicide
summer sun
sunset sunshine
surreal sweet
symbolism sympathy
tamil teacher
teachers day technology
teen teenage
thank you thanks
thanksgiving thanksgiving day
tiger time
today together
travel tree
tribute true love
trust truth
universe uplifting
urban urdu
usa vacation
valentines day vanity
veterans day violence
visionary vogon
voice volleyball
voyage war
water weather
wedding wife
wind wine
winter wisdom
woman women
word play words
work world
world war i world war ii
write writing
yellow youth

Long Cancer Poems

Long Cancer Poems. Below are the most popular long Cancer by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Cancer poems by poem length and keyword.

See also: Famous Long Poems

Long Poems
Long poem by Vee Bdosa | Details


There did they go into the cyberspace
where none but the great of heart
have ever gone before
and they did find great pleasure unto the night
for it was a time of love and understanding
and she did say it is good.
And when they did awake unto the dawn
then he did see a mass onto his shoulder
that had not ever been there before
and he was sore afraid.
Then he did say unto his mate, whose name is Mae,
what is it that has aflicted me in the night
and bonded itself onto the very body of me?
And she did reply unto her husband,
I know not.
And so they did consider the mass
and it was firm and round as a gooses egg,
yet it was of the mass that was thrice the size.
So she did lay her hands onto the mass
and did say,
is it now with pain, for I have given it a great charge?
But he did reply, nae, I feel it not.
And so they did go with the coming day,
even as the sun was high, unto his physician,
who counseled with some of his own, as to the matter.
And they did touch, and poke, and wonder
at the mass, and then they did say
it is a lipoma, and it is nothing more.
But one of physicians did ask
of what great need do you have of this arm,
and the man did reply, it is not the one
with which I write my name.
And the husband, whose name is Fred, did inquire
as to how this mass ever came to be
and so has attached itself onto me?
And there it sits, as if bad things to come.
Then his physicians did reply and say
nae, it is naught to worry about
but we can remove it if you have the desire.
And the wife did say unto the physicians,
who were with great skill in the matter,
this he does have,
so the husband did say, it is so my desire,
I have great needs that it be gone.
But the physicians did reply
it shall be taken away in twelve days,
for that is the only time
that is not already spoken for.
And so they did agree.
Now when the night came and he did lay again with his wife,
there came a great trembling from deep within
his body, and he did shake to his very toes.
And she did say, husband, why is it that you shake?
And what is it that maketh your body wet all over,
as if a rain has fallen on the very place you lay?
And he did reply, I know not.
But he was with great fear and did wonder
as to what the mass could be.
And his wife did then say,
it is a lipoma, and it is nothing more.
But he did think on the matter and then did say,
this must surely be as unto a sign from the maker
that my time is at hand.
Surely my life has been filled with goodness
but has brought me unto this very day.
And she did say,
it is a lipoma, and it is nothing more.
And as the day grew near,
but was even the second day unto the removal,
the husband did worry and say some more,
my life is at an end
for the very inside of me does now quake
and my hands tremble at the sight of the mass.
Yea, mine eyes cannot bear to gaze upon it
and it has become an abomination unto my sight.
But his wife did say,
it is a lipoma, and it is nothing more.
Then there came onto the tube, as if an omen
and a sign unto its own,
that a man had a mass and surely it had taken him away,
as if a robber had come in the night.
And he did grieve, for the day was almost at hand,
but did go unto his physicians and did say,
see how my body is wet and trembles at its' sight?
How is it that this thing has come unto me?
And what are the tingles unto my skin
is it what cometh from a lipoma?
But the physicians did shake their heads
and then they did say
you have the stress.
And so he did wonder at what they did tell him,
and when he looked, the mass was still there.
But the physicians did say,
it is a lipoma, and it is nothing more.
And one of the physicians said
if it is not a lipoma, the betting is off.
And then the man did return to his home
but trembled in the night.
Now when the morning did come
and the woman reached for her husband,
she found his space to be empty
and wet where he had layed.
and she did say, husband,
where is it you have gone?
But she heard not a reply.
And so she did go into the bottom of the house
where she did see him hanging from a beam
and then she did cry.
And so the constable did come, along with the scribes,
but the wife was with great grief
and did say o! that my life has such dismay
because of the lump that has taken him away.
What manner of thing has fallen to me?
And the scribe, who was to tell of the matter,
asked of her, what is it that has made you grieve?
And then the constable did say
is it the mass, that has made your husband
to end his life?
And she did say, it was a lipoma,
and it was nothing more.
....© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet

Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Maria Williams | Details

I am Me, Set me Free

I am given to you by Creator Himself My Limbs long to grow straight and tall Bathed in sunlight from above, paying homage Fulfilling my God given task From the dawn of creation, in the Holy Books I’m told A gift was given to all nations to hold The Tree of Life to feed and cure and clothe. I am Me – Set me free To live in a world- your world, to be appreciated I am needed by you and the multitudes Use me, Recycle me again and again Plant me in your soil, I will take root I live to Heal you, to Cleanse you To Rebuild you to Purify you I am Me – Set me free Do not believe the lies in your ears they whisper Free me from my confined goal, Where troops have placed me Sullied my name, Denied the Existence of my core I am Me – Set me free Yet I am you, and you are me Vital it is for us living beings Your DNA and my RNA- we talk -we communicate I am not only here to just take away your pain But here to let you - Live Your Life Again I am Me – Set me free Do not be stripped of your human privileges The Greedy will always deny Man his God given rights In the name of Democracy, Controversy, Hate, Idiocrasy, They are chained in their Bureaucracies and Hypocrisies And do not see the woods for the trees I implore you do not be Of a ‘Sheeple’ people mentality I am Me – Set me free In a world encased with chemicals, plastics, synthetics Created in the name of greed, A world that is stifling, suffocating, stagnating Poisoning you and your children Let your Farmers Plant me, grow me as in days of old, I am no weed I have been here since time has begun My leafy fingers and my palm point up to the sun Absorbing and turning it’s energy into a life giving elixir I purify the very air that you breathe I am sustainability, I am Life I am Me – Set me free I can offer you the finest spun threads of my being Does not the Japanese Emperor look good in his ceremonial clothes? And did not ‘Mona Lisa’ smile - as she was stretched on my canvas? Glowing from the oils of my seeds are Van Gogh’s ‘Stars’ And my finest for Raising Lazarus by Rembrandt My spun cloth has stood the test of time Carrying your very first Stars and Stripes still in existence And did they not all feel proud when the Declaration was signed But like Judas they turned their backs without our acquiesce I am Me – Set me free Haven’t my ropes tethered and towed ships from Days of yore Until synthetics came along and put a stop to it all My woven fibre sacks once carried your food? But now with synthetics, I lie totally unused I am self sufficient I am your nutrition I am Me – Set me free Use my Oil and Mill my Seed My healing powers are all you need Leave the chemicals for the powers that be My gifts are bountiful - I give with grace Strength is in numbers - I rest my case The way for us to become stronger United we stand - we will conquer I am the Tree of life I AM ME – I AM THE HEMP TREE A Gift from Nature - Healer of Humanity
Footnote: A poet from Poetry Soup read my poem and the Footnote of ‘Christmas in July’ and was curious about the cure for Dementia with a certain Oil which would have prolonged my Mother-in-laws quality of life and indeed her life. She emailed me to write a poem and spread the word about this species. Thank you sincerely. Our family company in Australia and have been pioneers of not only Organic Skin Products but of Hemp products. We encountered resistance but were successful in countering it and were able to bring it to the people. Including a special oil. We have witnessed miraculous results with the marvelous, fine food tasting oil and products of this plant ranging from Epilepsy, MS, Parkinson’s, Dementia, Nerve related conditions, inflammation, auto immune and the list goes on. It has even been shown to make cancer cells literally commit suicide. You can freely view research results on the internet. Hemp is not weed but a species which does not contain the all feared THC. It is a total nutrition in itself and is delicious food product that can be used for culinary delights as well as smoothies. A specific Oil that is extracted and has very special properties.

Copyright © Maria Williams | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Rob Tierney | Details



I sit here now back on my bed
Bandaged and still quite sore
I think back to my Mum and Dad
And all they both endured

My Dad he died of cancer
My Mum of MND
Both were unpleasant ways to go
Distressing all and me

My Dad he said the whole way through
That such things were quite shit
“It's not the hand that you get dealt”
“But how you play with it”

He played his days, diagnosis on
With courage and true grit
He even kept his old jumper
Into which he once had fit

In his last days his breath grew weak
He just slept more and more
No longer looked like my dear Dad
Not like he'd looked before

I wasn't with him in the end
When he drew his last breath
I wished I'd been to hold his hand
And hold him as he left

My Mum was strong for all of us
Who were then left behind
We tried to not upset her heart
She's say she didn't mind

We spoke of Dad and often laughed
But sometimes we just cried
It cuts us all when we all thought
Of just the way he died

Bereft of hope, robbed of his strength
Left just an empty shell
Locked up tight inside his frame
He must have gone through hell

Then comes my Mum, my guiding light
She strode right to the fore
She grasped the lead and stood up tall
And led us all once more

For 10 years plus she moved right on
Taking all in her stride
You could tell she missed my Dad
Some things you cannot hide

She too grew ill, and felt real weak
They couldn't find out why
When told that she was terminal
I just sat down and cried

“Why was this all happening now?”
“This all seems so unfair!”
My Mum just smiled, said “C'est la vie”
And sat back in her chair

We visited Mum alternate nights
Myself and partner Lynn
Some days we did a double shift
Although it did us in

I too got ill, not bad of course
But I could not visit
Aware of just how ill Mum was
But I could not risk it

Xmas '11 was an awful time
It really was so sad
Advancing days, time growing short
Not knowing how long we had

My Mum was now in her last days
She knew it too as well
It was just like a crap repeat
Of my Dads sheer hell

Her last day came, I got the call
As I put down the phone
I realised now straight away
I felt now so alone

An old orphan, a silly thought
No Dad and now no Mum
I waited for it all to stop
But no release would come

My world just stopped, the sun still shone
The world just turned each day
My heart was black, devoid of love
“I want to run away”

But that is not the man I am
I buckle but I do not fall
I'm bruised, and bashed and bloodied
But I am walking tall

I feel I am my fathers son
Much more now than before
For those having a real nightmare
I really do implore

Do not give up, do not back down
Stand up for what you feel
Don't be part of the machine
Do all that makes you real

Break down and cry and shout and swear
If its what gets you through
Who gives a damn what others think
Just be true to you

I didn't think I'd get over
Losing my dear old Mum
But now it's over 2 years on
And rarely I am glum

All I do is sit right down
And shut my eyes real tight
And I am back with Mum and Dad
And everything feels right

Whoever said the age old phrase
“Out of sight is out of mind”
Please send this silly sod to me
I'll boot their big behind

My Mum and Dad, live evermore
In cells and blood and mind
And through their kids and legacy
They both have left behind

Still here on earth not visible
Most of the time it's true
But I still sit and talk to them
As I would talk to you

I talk to them, you'll think I'm mad
I simply do not care
It just makes me feel really safe
To know that they're still there

So now I sit down in my room
Upon my empty bed
They both reside down here with me
Even though both are long dead

There's more to life than physical
Of this you can be sure
There's spirits, aura's genetics too
And feelings too are pure

So when I think of Dad and Mum
I sit down with a smile
And shut my eyes to be with them
For just a little while

I feel their warmth, deep in my soul
Just like a summers day
It brightens up my darkest times
And chases them away

I'll leave you now to close my eyes
And see them both again
I'll tell them that I spoke of them
With love and peace my friends

Copyright © Rob Tierney | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by William Masonis | Details

A Hospital Stay - Part V


                                                        The In-Between

     There, in the In-Between,
     No trumpets sound
     No beings clad in gold celestial fire
     Arrive as guides to the heart's desire,
          Only silence falls
     Throughout the velvet deep profound.
     At the In-Between,
          No Savior calls
     For there is naught but nothingness;
     An emptiness entire.

Strangely, I sensed myself suspended
In a nevertime of not-quite-being.

Such was the In-Between, where now I wandered.

As though it had always been,
I felt myself afloat, adrift
Upon some frigid river full of ice
Which had no source and knew no end,
That traveled 'round and 'round and back again upon itself
Rising and falling over distant hills and bearing me with it
- Or rather, what was left of me -
Along in its meaningless, endless circuit.

Nor dark nor light intruded.
Vision compassed only what might be envisioned,
Images forming and fading
Within the little cavern of my skull.

Voices without discernable words.
Murmmerings within the waters.

Something like a sword
Was lodged down my throat.
I gagged upon it, over and over;
Unseen hands would withdraw it, then shove it down again.

The main thought flickering in my head
As I lay in this place
Was of how I seemed to have become some frail remnant
Of whatever I once was.
No longer did I have that sense of flesh
Containing the shape of me,
Nor the feel of muscle, nor the bone beneath.
I felt I had somehow been rendered
Some modern scientific wonder,
A creature flayed alive yet living
In some embryonic form, possessed of such shape as it could claim
By virtue of a remaining mass of nervous tissue;
A minimalist miracle
Preserved in a nutrient bath by the power and will
Of a conclave of white smocked High Priests of medicine.

Strangest of all, perhaps
Was that this perception of my fate
Occasioned in me not horror, 
But rather a regretful sadness.
"What will they tell my wife?" I sighed in my mind.

     Yet, by slow degrees the feel of the outward world
     Stole in upon my little hell of shapelessness.
     The throbbing thing I seemed to have become
     Refleshed itself somehow,
     Though the sword in its throat remained.

Distant voices resolved into speech again,
And as they did I felt myself begin moving again
'Round and 'round as before, still on circuit
But no longer floating on ice.
Now, instead, I seemed lain on some unseen track
Circling through a low-roofed sandstone cavern.

When I passed the band of light 
That marked the faroff entrance of this cave,
I would hear the voice of that Boy Who Would Be Our King
Exhorting the Disunited Nations
To join his crusade to punish his chosen scapegoat
For an evil he had helped loose upon the world.
The long silences that followed his harangues
Revealed the skepticism of his audience.

     I could sense that a long roll call of the dead
     Would soon be scrolling past the world's collective eyes,
     Be his call accepted or no;
     This was for show, decisions had already been made.

I regained perception of how dangerous things were becoming out there,
Out there where I'd lost my way, to stumble into this place,
How long ago I could no longer recall.

I knew this to be its nature, though
And as well that this was where I belonged, Out There
Where the only source of peace or peace of mind
Was the hope we wove between ourselves
With threads of unstoppable possibilities
The human way spins for itself.

I knew where I belonged, and reached out for it.

     I came back to be within
     The folds of all I love
     To seek the mystic shine of life
     Expressed in friends, relations, wife
     Awaiting my return.
     I began to climb Above
     Back to where all hopes begin
     To where desires brightly burn
     Until their ash shines whiter than
     The purer feathers of the dove.

Copyright © William Masonis | Year Posted 2013

Long poem by Poet M.e. | Details

Christmas In The Fall

The third surgery didn’t work
He tells her there can be another one. 
He lies. Struggles to look in her eyes

She apologizes from a restless state
"I Won’t be here to see them graduate.
I won’t live to see Christmas will I?"
“You’ll have the best Christmas ever.”

Doesn’t take Algebra to realize
That February plus three to six months
Is a few months short of never

“Will there be Christmas music?”
“Yes, there will be lots of music.”
She squeezes his trembling hand
IV drips were never part of the plan

“Perry Como was the
First Christmas song we ever danced to.”
“No! I remember. It Was Santa Baby.”

“Will there be mistletoe?
“Lots and lots of mistletoe.”
“Earth Kitt sang Santa baby.
I’m sure our first song was
Home For The Holidays
Perry Como.
You know I am never wrong
When it comes to our song."

And talking about Christmas in February
Is a lot less depressing than talking
About the final stages of Ovarian cancer
For a twenty-eight year old woman
Surgeons in the hall completely out of magic
A love story destined to end tragic

“When we have our Christmas
Will you hold me like you did
The first time?”
Can I sleep in your arms?
Can i have music?
I want to wear a Red Santa hat.
I want you to hold me while
The music plays.
Am i asking too much??”

And every Target in a 30 mile radius
Has put away their evergreens
You  to explain to the clerk why you
You need a Perry Como CD
In late February at Walgrens

So you Amazon this and Ebay that
To buy pieces of Christmas on the Internet
And you Google this and you Google that
Even the ridiculous Santa hat
And explain to twelve different neighbors
Why you are putting Christmas lights up
When you just took them down

But march and April comes around
Then May and June
The Doctors call and say, Soon

A few months later
The doctor finally tells you
She’s down to her final hours
“We have done everything in our power.”

You push her in a wheel chair 
And prepare for a Christmas to remember
And no one really cares that it’s September
Or that the Mistletoe is plastic
And from the dollar store
And four three foot reindeer on the lawn
And the Christmas lights stay on

A can of Blue Diamond almonds was about
As close to chestnuts you could get
“These are not chestnuts.These are almonds.”
“Are not.”
”Are too.”
“I am cold. Can you hold me?”

Two children frolic around the tree
As the gift wraps come undone
Not knowing they will go to sleep
With two parents and wake up with one

"Kiss your mother goodnight."

You Send the kids upstairs
Tell them to wash up
And say their prayers
They look into the eyes of their frail mother
And she looks into theirs

“You remembered the open fire.
We never had a fireplace.
When did we get a fireplace?
Aren't fireplaces expensive?
You  know we have a lot of bills
I love the sound of fire.

You were right for once.
Perry Como wasn’t our first song.
And it wasn’t Eartha Kitt either
We were both wrong (laughs)

It was
It was
(fading breaths)
The Christmas Song

Can you play it?
I want to hear it before I
Before I

Head behind her shoulder
He kisses her hair..Holds her

...And so, I'm offering this
Simple phrase to kids from
One to ninety-two
Altho' it's been said many times
Many ways
Merry Christmas to you”

“This this is..the happiest Christmas
You have ever shared with me
(Fade out) (She dies)
He only wished he could agree.

Copyright © Poet M.e. | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Sharon Edwards | Details

Double Setup

Double Set Up

The first lump was the scariest in 1983.
 I had found it in the shower.
 Two other major surgeries I've already had that very year.
 I was thirty three.
 A mammogram back then was so different.
 I remember a round cylinder with a purple glow.
 The radiologist came in and said:"Your breast are full of lumps."
 My knees weakened and my stomach rose to my throat.
 You have fibrocystic breast disease.
 So off to my surgeon of choice I would go.

 I had two choices back then.
 I could have a biopsy be woke up and told the results of the frozen section.
 A second surgery then scheduled.
 Or I could go to sleep with a double set up.
 One was for a biopsy and one for a mastectomy.
 Double consent forms signed and off to sleep you go not knowing what you wake up to.
 Because of the recent surgeries, I decided on the double set up.
 I would not know what to expect.
 I was a circulating nurse in surgery and knew all about mastectomies and cutting edge reconstruction for 1983.
 I knew a large pressure bandage meant a mastectomy and when I woke up it was large.
 I cried, not knowing I had bled too much from the benign lumpectomy site.

 The second biopsy was 1989 just after my father had died.
 This time I chose to be awake with a local and self-hypnosis.
 The first anesthesiologist said NO so a second had to be found.
 My surgeon had reluctantly agreed with permission to put me to sleep if she saw fit.
 So with my signal and a local anesthetic injection, it began.
 This had never been done before in this hospital with the patient awake.

 The lump was at the exact same spot as the first.
 It was deeper than first thought so some IV versed was given.
 Versed relaxes and causes amnesia so you don't remember the pain.
 The medical student working with my surgeon was intrigued that I was wide awake.
 He had just finished his OB rotation where I taught him how to birth.
 The frozen section was negative and the lump removed.
 A simple dressing was applied.

 The day surgery nurses were pleasantly surprised that I didn't have to be watched for anesthesia side effects.
 They couldn't believe I had hypnotized myself.
 So now all biopsies are done under local and versed.
 No more going to sleep wandering if you wake up to just one breast.
 The trauma of treatment slightly minimized by giving a woman more choices.

 Since then there have been a couple of lumps treated with no caffeine and Vitamin E and Fish Oil.
 Repeat mammograms and ultrasounds.
 Monthly self breast exams.
 I've been lucky and I am grateful and practice preventive care.
 When I first started nursing all women went into surgery with a double set up and the surgeon and the husband made the decision when to take off the breast.
 I always thought it barbaric to treat a woman this way.

 I now know of two women who refused to do preventive care.
 One is dead after waiting too late to get any treatment started.
 The second although 91 will not even see a doctor.
 It will be a terrible death with rotting flesh and pain.

 I also have done medical chart audits with woman after woman refusing mammograms and denying doing self breast exams or having PAP smears.
 Two simple exams to save your life;
 Why I ask would a woman do this to herself and family?

Copyright © Sharon Edwards | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Chris Peers | Details

Dont cry daddy

A warm fire burned slowly in the hearth,
Darjeeling tea was brewing in the pot,
a dead King was singing about a blue Christmas,
a mother of six sons sat in her armchair,
flames danced in her eyes,
we knew that possessed stare,
engrossed in a time of long ago....before we were born,
plaintiff winds of Winter howled thru the trees,
a tearful memory slipped down her cheek.

"A penny for your thoughts", the father of six said,
his muscled arms full of tattoos and heroic tales,
"The Grim Reaper has planted a poisonous seed", 
her words silenced the howling winds,
the tea suddenly tasted bitter,
fire in the hearth lost its warmth,
the King sang about the early morning rain,
in the distance of that old gloomy town,
we could hear the footsteps of an unwelcome fate. 

A year of cold and wet seasons pursued their unbiased cycle,
a fireplace freely gave its warmth to the room,
a kettle continued its whistle for the tea pot,
the King sang about a fair moving on,
a mother of six sons were becoming men,
the armchair surrounded her delicate and weak body,
but her eyes still danced with the flames from the fire,
she continued to stare with a knowing smile,
content with the sons she had given life to,
the winds still cried to the trees outside,
another tear stroked her cheek and fell on her heart.

"Every penny I have for your thoughts", the father of men said,
his tattooed and muscled arms barely holding his family together,
"The seed is near full bloom now, its almost time for his harvest",
her words sent the winds screaming in agony,
the fire in the hearth gasped for fuel and air,
cups of Darjeeling tea lost their flavor,
the King began singing about the green, green grass of home,
at the end of the street of that old gloomy town,
ominous footfalls could be heard getting closer.

Another cold and desolate Winter was almost over,
the blackened fireplace had embers gasping for coal,
a kettles whistle faded and ignored the tea pot,
a long ago King was preparing his swan song,
six sons sat around a fire that gave no warmth,
her favorite armchair cradled her diminished body,
yet, her eyes sparkled with love and hope for her children,
our eyes glistened with memories and the dreadful knowing,
a soft breeze whispered goodbye to the trees without leaves,
tears flowed freely down our flushed cheeks and onto our heavy hearts.

"Everything I have for your thoughts", a weeping father of six weeping sons said,
the hands of his tattooed and muscled arms visibly shaking,
"Just a kiss and let the harvester of souls plant me in a new garden",
the embers of the fire gave a final glow,
cups of Darjeeling tea were no longer in the room,
a silent stillness could be felt all round the room,
a final tear escaped and splashed over her heart,
fatal footsteps echoed at the front door, 
she smiled and sighed one last time,
and Elvis sang "Don't Cry Daddy".

Copyright © Chris Peers | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by SillyBilly theKidster | Details

I'm The Samonster

Soon you'll be out of my life,
and I'll be better.
You thought that I'd be weak,
but I'm stronger
You thought that you'd break me, 
but I'll never surrender.
You thought that I'd be sad,
but I laugh harder.
You thought I wouldn't grow,
but now I'm wiser.
You though I'd be helpless,
but I'm smarter.
You thought I'd be stressed, 
but I'm chillin'.
You didn't think this through,
and that will be your undoing.
I'm a survivor,
I'm the Samonster,
I won't stop fighting, never, ever.
I will work harder.
I'm a survivor,
I'm gonna be unforgiving.
I'm the Samonster.
I keep on surviving.
I'm a survivor.
I will never give up.
I will never ever stop.
I'm going to work harder.
I'm a survivor,
I'm gonna make it.
I'm the Samonster.
I will survive this.
You thought I couldn't breathe,
but I'm inhaling
You thought I couldn't see,
but I've perfect vision
You thought I couldn't last,
but I'm lasting.
You thought that I would die, 
but I keep on living.
You thought that I would fail, 
but I'm on top.
You thought it would be over by now,
but I refuse to stop.
You thought that I would self destruct 
but I'm still here,
and in my years to come you will be gone,
but I'll still be here living on.
I'm a survivor,
I'm the Samonster,
I won't stop fighting, never, ever.
I will work harder.
I'm a survivor,
I'm gonna be unforgiving.
I'm the Samonster.
I keep on surviving.
I'm a survivor.
I will never give up.
I will never ever stop.
I'm going to work harder.
I'm a survivor,
I'm gonna make it.
I'm the Samonster.
I will survive this.
One day I'll lay you to rest,
and pray that you never hurt anyone else.
I wouldn't wish you upon my worst nemesis,
(I'm better than that).
I'm never going to surrender,
(I'm better than that).
I'm not going to lie,
(I'm better than that).
I want you to die,
it's as simple as that.
I will never compromise,
(I'm better than that).
I won't stop fighting until your total demise.
I'm a survivor,
I'm the Samonster,
I won't stop fighting, never, ever.
I will work harder.
I'm a survivor,
I'm gonna be unforgiving.
I'm the Samonster.
I keep on surviving.
I'm a survivor.
I will never give up.
I will never ever stop.
I'm going to work harder.
I'm a survivor,
I'm gonna make it.
I'm the Samonster.
I will survive this.
After all of the darkness and sadness,
soon comes happiness.
I am surrounded and supported by amazing friends,
and together we will all end your perilous reign,
because I'm a survivor.
I'm the Samonster,
the crusher of anything and everything cancer.
You don't have a prayer.
You should surrender,
because I'm a survivor,
I'm the Samonster.

If you don't know the original song for this parody,
the YouTube web address below will take you to it directly.

Destiny's Child - Survivor

Copyright © SillyBilly theKidster | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Galeo DS | Details

Got Milk - In Her Battle

I used to receive regular phone calls so gladly from her
I could feel all her excitements and when she’s so eager
Telling me about her and how bright the sun in her day
And all her surprises and experiences while I’m away.

Until such a day came which terrified and shook my nerve
A voice on the other end had seemed can no longer serve
I knew she was right there, trying to reach me out here
All I heard were sobs and I couldn’t imagine her profuse tear.

It took a little while before she’d finally composed herself
In a quivering voice, she told me that she’s at the ridge of a cliff
I asked her why and she said so sadly that she has a breast cancer
I was shocked but still quite skeptical of what I’ve heard from her.

She relayed the diagnoses from her doctors and gynecologists
She  got a lump, a sign of dreadful cancer on her left breast
Hiding the echoes of my tears, I tried to give her comfort
Feeling horrified but I tried to control myself with an effort.

It didn’t take so long before she has undergone an operation
Her left breast was taken off like a total fiasco on her own
She felt all the darkness which she never had in her life
I tried to light her mind, despite hectic work I was on her side

Once in a while, her close friends and co-workers took my place
When I went back to work, they helped and assisted on her needs
We kept her mother uninformed because she has heart trouble
But not with other relatives so they’ll know our situation together

After several months of thorough medications and chemotherapy
She has improved her situation also with her faith in the Almighty
Amenable on pieces of advice and religiously took her medicines
In her battle are also exercises, herbals, juices and other nutritious aids

Now, she’s almost recovered although her cure will take five years
I admire her courage, strength and perseverance -  all at her gear
The traits and practices she’d exhibited are also for me to emulate 
( She has considered me as her younger sister since we’re still young)
To prevent any health problems that come or knock on my gate.

Nov. 11,2012
Leonora Galinta

Note: A dedication to my loving cousin and a friend, (2nd-3rd degree cousin) who is still under recovery of breast  cancer. She visits her doctors regularly also to monitor her right breast .  Thanks  to the  princess’ hospital (for cancer patients) that at least had enlighten her financial burden. Although we’re in the same country, we live far away from each other but she’s always with me in my prayers.  I can only be with her this time only on our longer holidays (school break). Ialso lovingly dedicate this poem to all victims of breast cancer. There is always a miracle in healing.

First Place
Contest: Femme Fatale- (pink ribbon)
Judged: 12/2/2012
Sponsor: Poet PD

Copyright © Galeo DS | Year Posted 2012

Long poem by Poet Destroyer A | Details


**Every pace change --is the voices of poets sharing his/her Ribbon** 

The phone rings, 
The clock dings,

I scream, scream, and scream:

I can’t grasp what is real
I can’t inhale the lives you steal
This game is like murder in the first degree,
I can barely feel the words you're expressing.
Your hand, holding on to mine as if it was the last
I crawl I hide behind these moonstone walls
There it stood and stole my Womanhood
Pink is the ointment rubbed inside my diary.

I crawl- I remember-
Looking for a dream, where the women wear combat boots
Women ready to kill all confrontation with nukes.

I was lost!
Do you know the feeling?
Once you hear, the “C” word your mind starts spinning,
You can’t see what’s going on,
Your smiles soon to be gone,

On this fright night, I bleed
Hold on tight, of the dead of this night
I’m down on my fallen knees,
A secret I can't keep, no longer need
Breaking backs when I mention the word “C.”
It is like getting struck by a freight train
Taking what belong and makes ME me! 
Forgetting the Pink October ribbons, I wore
Taking  time to weave them into the last strand of my red chemo hair.

Now here you are,
Standing on the chest
Heavy shoulders a violin press.
No longer needing the little black dress
Skin pink tight leather, now you caress
My eyes are full of tears
Once I discovered the beast came back without fear 
The news blew like a missile in heat
With a fire’s shooting out from the dark
Sweltering me, blazing me,
Leaving the world, all ribbon tied.
Dimples and pretty lips, I drop the world with beauty and tissues. 
Filled with  pink ivory issues 
This is the way that I feel, I am real… 
You are a killer, you are a disease! 
You sit there and shatter our lives,
With many of us, you’ll discover we do not break like glass 
Still, we walk in high heels strolling through pink valley skies.
With a charm called a Pink Ribbon; -I WORE-

- A heavy pink scarf now I wear like a noose, 
Remembering my days have been numbered 

I have no family to lean on
Everybody’s plus my mother is gone
You are the undead: 
Leading some of us into a watery grave
You are like a jack in the box
Hiding until you are found… 
You’re silent until your jobs done...

You made us angry, you made us cry, you killed many…
However, you will never come close to a glorious ~Victory~ 
We are  “PINK LADIES,” who  continue to be strong
I will find a way to sew my chest back to its caressing view!

One day will find the cure,
And, destroy YOU "The miserable ‘Breast Cancer’ Disease" 

by; PD

Dedicated to all the females of the world. 
((And men whose life touched by this disease))

Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2012

Long Poems