Long Chemo Poems
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In November of 2011, Dad was told that he was terminal and wouldn't survive.
He was diagnosed with Leukemia and he passed away at the age of sixty-five.
Dad worked hard for many years to feed his family and put a roof over our heads.
He lost his battle after 20 months of Chemo and would have no more years ahead.
When he was diagnosed with his horrible illness, Mom called me at once.
A nurse told Dad that she'd never seen a Leukemia patient survive longer than 18 months.
Dad survived for 20 months, that was two months longer than what the nurse said.
Mom died in March of 2013 and just four more months later, Dad was also dead.
Dad suddenly took a turn for the worse and sadly, he couldn't live anymore.
Today would've been Dad's birthday and he would've turned seventy-four.
[Dedicated to Charles F. Johnson (1947-2013) who died on July 13, 2013]
Reaching for your hand
but knowing you have gone
I hear the birds begin to sing
their early morning song
Yearning for to stroke again
your shiny chemo head
but now your empty pillow
beside me lies instead
As I awake this morning
alone inside my bed
my heart is truly breaking
for so many lonely years
and that is why this morning
I have shed so many tears...
Written 6th April 2019
Contest Favourite Poem From Last Week March 31st to April 6th 2019
Sponsor Lu Loo
1st place
Contest April 2019 Premier 6 14 lines
Sponsor Brian Strand
7th place in Premier contest
Number One in 100 Best New Poems list for the month - 4th May 2019
Contest 'L' contest old or new
Sponsor Constance La France
FIRST PLACE
When all is well:
love lasts, adventure winks, and flesh is wrinkle-free —
no one thinks of hell.
Hands touch and lips express,
untortured by death;
the sun and moon do bless.
Yellow tennis balls in motion.
Muscles on court, in sea —
Sunset and sunrise by the ocean.
The morning news and puzzles shared.
Just the sight, scent and glory of his wife.
Warm coffee and blankets show they cared.
When all is well,
before you blink and it is finished,
there was a time, for your story, to tell.
He didn’t mind sharing her ills,
cleaning up after chemo,
the ominous spills.
It’s obvious that we must die.
Often it comes as a smack.
Why to ourselves, do we lie?
On our deathbed we succumb.
It is ghastly to see one corpsed.
Out of our lover’s arms we must come.
4/29/2021
Just Stating The Obvious
Sponsor: Brother Jacob
The day my life went bizacko,
I had me a brush with “big C”
“No biggie; just radiation,” they said,
“after lumpectomy.”
“No, wait,” said the surgeon,“Your cancer’s genetic!
Let’s have you do chemo too.”
A doctor friend wiser said that would be
a ludicrous thing to do.
Chemo just for prevention?
How wackadoodle is that?
Despite the fact I’m “genetic,”
I turned down their chemo flat.
Did radiation and thought I was done
till my bones were then given a scan.
“Keep your bones strong. You must take our drug,”
said my doofus oncologist man.
Prolia shots every six months.
Four times I did that in all.
Come to find out – folks going OFF it
are breaking their bones when they fall!
I went off it anyway.
Rare side effects were making me feel insane.
Two years since then and still I have got
Prolia on my brain.
My mouth is bizarre -half-numb and plain dumb
like my outer lips aren’t even there!
Like plastic or wool my mouth feels inside,
so an old worn-out mouthguard I wear.
The mouthguard’s my comfort, but it’s gotten yellow
and I look strange when I smile.
Good thing for me to NOT be in public
but stuck in my house for this while.
New doctors I visit will not diagnose me.
One of them thinks I am whacko.
Doctors look after each OTHER while I
keep living a life bizacko!
April 1, 2020
239 words for Caren Krutsinger's The Day My Life Went Whacko Poetry Contest
She takes her wand a sugar cane long
And waves it in the air singing a song
She likes to make her heroic cape
From collard green leaves that she crochet
She makes her brazier from coconuts
With licorice straps sticky to touch
Her bald head blessed with a crown
from grapevines with grapes hanging down
Her skin is thin from all the chemo
She is stronger than superman in her soul-food soul
She uses cotton candy to make her socks
Shoes so fancy by Goldilocks
Bet you never again will see
A skirt made of dried fruit candy
Yellow sun rays shine on her face
Fighting cancer with food in more than one way
6/14/22
Written for A MERGER WITH FOOD POETRY CONTEST
Sponsor Natasha L Scragg
I remember how much Dad suffered during his final days.
After months of receiving chemotherapy, he passed away.
Regular chemo stopped working so they used a more powerful version that made him feel worse.
It wasn't long after he received the more powerful chemotherapy that he ended up in a hearse.
When it came to being diagnosed with Leukemia, it certainly wasn't something that was foreseen.
Today is the ninth anniversary of my dad's death, he died on the thirteenth of July in the year 2013.
When Dad learned that he had cancer, he made me promise to take care of Mom after he died.
But she died four months before he did and we didn't know she was ill, we were all mystified.
When a person becomes so ill that he or she dies, it's hard to comprehend.
When Dad drew his last breath nine years ago today, his life came to an end.
[Dedicated to Charles F. Johnson (1947-2013) who died nine years ago today on July 13, 2013]
I am recovering my mojo, though I have almost no hair
That damn Chemo stuff took it away, and one day it was not there
And it really did fall out in a matter of days
Almost comical your mind says HEY!
And despite being a woman, I feel I look like a man
A bit embarrassing you see, it was not in my plan
I had worn the "cold cap" that supposedly preserved it in health
But while they were nuking my body, they nuked it to hell
So I wear those funny hippy hats now,
those slouchy knitted caps that you see
And I do my best and pretend they don't see
I know it grows back, but there is embarrassment still
And it may come back curly.. good lord a new hairstyle I will
But for now it's an inch, and a little sparse on top
And for a while before it all came out it was an Albert Einstein mop!
I kinda laughed horrified when it went to that point
And well, I now smoke those pot joints
It helps with the nausea which I still have
and it relaxes me on the things that make me sad
See I just lost an ex business partner to hospital error
and that played my sleep, her wife in despair.
Losing my hair is nothing compared to that loss.
I know it down deep, I have suffered that cost.
And so now, I laugh at the vanity hit
and put makeup on when I need to look fit
And I still run around braless you see
because well I am a heathen, societies freed
And if dignity was bent by the small sacrifice
I project my personality and suffer that cost
Keep swimming, Keep swimming...
Like what Dory said
That's my motto that sings in my head
How to get out of the funk. Artimus (C) 2/3/24 Susan Manley
Inspired by Rebecca Heineman , my friend, former business partner who lost her spouse Jennell Jaquays.
The uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room.
The doctor's silk tie that reflects the tubes of artificial lighting.
The endless vials of blood they draw from my baby's arm.
The area of her arm where the cancer chews hungrily beneath the skin leaving a trail of destruction.
The "PAST DUE" stamped on hospital bills.
Scrubs worn by nurses in the chemo department.
My lips after biting back sobs when her hair falls out in clumps.
My husband's hand when he releases mine for a minute because I'm squeezing too hard.
My eyes in the mirror after yet another sleepless night.
The world I live in is a crimson hell since my daughter was diagnosed with lymphoma.
Twelve Steps
(with love, for Barbara)
By Franklin Price
04/13/2020
Twelve steps away you're sleeping
In our giant king sized bed
I pray you're resting peacefully
As these thoughts go through my head
If I could, I'd take your pain
Give you a decent appetite
Go through chemo for you
Give you sleep throughout the night
Give you energy to garden
Enjoy where the rays are from
Put the earth between your fingers
Return the greenness to your thumb
Give you joy again for reading
Strength for shopping at the mall
To enjoy the flowers in the Spring
And changing leaves, when comes the fall
It's not within my power
To give all these things to you
To pray for and to love you
Is the most that I can do
To hold you and to stand by you
To place faith in God above
No matter how this whole thing goes
Never doubt you have my love
So the chemo got the cancer
though I have three more trips to the chair
but for this very moment there is no lump longer there
Its kinda a revelation with the battle going on
but this silly computer game producer
still manages to motor on
I miss the cowboy
He turned out to be a charleton.
But he used to make me laugh and keep me on track
kind of a funny thing
I am now doing pot gummies
just to battle nausea
because despite my best I was at unrest
and it was beginning to take a toll
This war with cancer, sucks I tell you so...
And I have no specific thing I can point to in my ways
that will prevent it from coming back again
So I am on a quest to lower the chances of that
and laying down best practices in my hat
I still have my hair, though the strands are coming out
And surviving I am, despite the fun and games
chemo is surreal, and kinda a big deal
but you can make it out again
Chemo and the side notes Artimus (C) Susan Manley 8:41AM 11/11/2023