Long In remission Poems
Long In remission Poems. Below are the most popular long In remission by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long In remission poems by poem length and keyword.
I won't be home
not For Christmas
nor for funerals
not for birthdays
Wanted to never see you
on those days so hard to get through.
When you abandoned the sweetness
and chased your dream into the alley
When you thought it best to see me cry!
When your mind changed with the direction of the wind
I stood there with spit on my fingertips...
holding my hand in the air, Waiting for the winds of hope
to blow your love and loyalty in my direction
Home is a strange city
where no one knows me.
where no one will invite me to sit across the table
and try to smile as I play with my stuffing on china with flowers
As I remember the children laughing and opening gifts.
I remember the long silent ride back to our house.
I think back when I got on my knees
before climbing into our cold bed
The prayers just uttered coming back void.
Ask God to just let you touch me again
I needed your body-heat to keep warm.
I needed your support to continue on
for the sake of the commitment.
For the sake of waiting for love to remind you
Even if pity could hold you there...
I would not be ashamed of what you sacrificed
When love had given birth to pity-
I would have held on without pride.
Now I never want to come back to that town.
Where no one cares that you don't love me.
I am in remission.
Alone but it's OK.
Please tell our future to visit me.
On the seashores.
The sun warms me in
my new home
where no one knows me.
All my old friends are
dead and dying. So...
I won't be home
not For Christmas
nor for funerals
not for birthdays
Wanted to never see you
on those days so hard to get through.
Just my spirit and the ocean.
and one day tell our grandchildren
Grandma will be here walking;
With one finger in the air moistened with spit.
to see which way the wind blows.
Time will catch us by surprise, reach out with greedy talons
scratching moments from our eyes. Bucolic broccoli lives.
Born again Christians, prophets all. Born again
And again and again. Each measured moment chosen
With which crier’s call. Moments laid by each to waste
unseen, unused, unanswered. Gone. Contents never faced.
No touch opened such as this one gift embraced. Alive.
Dripping in remission. This world was taught to us.
How to live, was not.
Cheeks touched or brushed with gnarled, sinewed hand of God,
Walking in fields of flowing wheat between each downy hair
On each surrendered arm a soothing voice, alluding voice
Softly walking long through single minds
Embracing flowered memories Son and He and We entwined.
Touched in mornings when the body’s most alive.
Held in evenings when the fragile soul can least survive.
Reached with broken arms and stunted thoughts,
Impaled on jagged edge of broken spirits
Holiness escapes us as a frigid death
Each life from all is torn by silenced breath.
Wiser men too soon become our younger Gods,
And we will make this new life work
Because it is the only one we have.
Before
Before the world was made from space
Before the creation of the human race
Before the planting of the very first seed
There was the emotion of Love and the concept of need
Before the Good Lord made Adam and Eve dance
Before Cupid invented the idea of romance
Before politicians decided the position of their stance
There was little to divide us, it was left up to chance
Before the decisions were made to Govern,
Before Hansel and Gretel were put in the oven
Before the dinosaurs roamed the Earth
Before Mary herself gave the first Virgin Birth
Before Socrates spoke to his very first student
Before any activism or poitival movement
Before the first winter froze the very first trees
Before Romeo lost Juliette and was bought to his knees
Before Mozart composed his very first song
Before the concept of right and wrong
Before the notion of monetary exchange
Before the first book turned its very first page
Before the great Wisdoms that came from the sky
Before the grand visions in Leonardo Davinci’s genius eyes
Before the incisions by the very first surgeons
Before the decisions were decided as urgent
Before the great rulers like Caesar, Khan and Cleopatra
Before the great politicians like Barak Obama and Margaret Thatcher
Before Ludwig Van Beethoven’s very first composition
Before the first cancer patient was put in remission
Before they invented the human genome
Before ET got to eventually phone home
Before man walked on the surface of the moon
Before Frank Sinatra sung a moment too soon
Before the Human Rights Council was developed in The Hague
Before mankind developed courage or could recognize the brave
Before Nicola Tesla invented electricity
Before Elon Musk developed this concept for free
Before the woke generation ran away with the social narrative
Before feminist theory lost part of its prerogative
Before society became synonymous with technology
Before youthful ambition was lost to cynical ideology
Before Mohammed Ali put on his first boxing gloves
Before we all agreed that something undefined comes from above
Before the Noah sailed his arc and sent his peaceful dove
Before it was all invented, this world evolved from the essence of Love
The End
Copywrite Elizabeth Moroz 2023
Kowtow & kapow..the Bazball supernova
They think it’s all over…well wow it is now
Cool cat merriment to cricket’s detriment
Down tools school for fools experiment
Mules without rules serious impediment
Flunk their funk mission to debunk tradition
Teach each Baz monk flair pizzazz edition
Preach razmattazz and all that jazz sedition
Slam dunk sunk kerplunk fans in remission
Shan’t exult this odd bod Bazball adult cult
Can’t halt Starc’s hefty lefty catapult assault
Another hilarious result and nefarious insult
Inquests as Aussie test conquests take their toll
Pat patrol in control Ben’s men droll rigmarole
Stole our soul so gonna give them some vitriol
Banished to a grassy knole the Bazball totem pole
Farce whole brassy class vanished up their ar*ehole
No need to mull it is time for a cull heads must roll
Cos in Oz they Can’t bat Can’t field and Can’t bowl
Sue had been so proud of her curvaceous figure and considered her pert breasts were her outstanding feature. Sadly, breast cancer runs in her family and now she too had fallen victim to this cruel disease.
both breasts are removed
mastectomy surgery
hot tears start to fall
Chemotherapy sessions take its toll on her entire body, with constant sickness she feels so exhausted. Her weight plummets and her clothes hang from her frail frame.
her crowning glory
lost with each stroke of the brush …
golden tresses fall
Twelve months later Sue receives the news she had been dreaming of … she is finally in remission. Reconstruction surgery has been scheduled and soon she hopes to look and feel like a woman again. Her weight is back to normal and glamourous wigs cover her wispy hair.
in sickness and health
their marriage vows hit home hard
husband at her side
Let The Pens Flow - Haibun Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Jenish Somadas
08/15/20
What exactly is a friend?
What does that word mean?
Is it a magical connection?
Can they really be seen?
Can they mend a broken heart?
Put it back in remission.
Or do they only come around
under certain conditions?
They can make you smile
and they can make you laugh.
They will never send mixed signals
and keep you on the right path.
I've seen true magic
in this friend that I know.
She's always been there
never putting on a show.
You know who you are
you're so special to me.
Cherished and loved,
you will always be.
My true friend forever
from now to the end.
I love you so much
you are my best friend.
I will not be rewarded for being a martyr.
Giving into fate is smarter.
These lies we will cherish.
As we allow our influence on this world to perish.
They teach us that we are under their possession.
And that we are not allowed to give into our obsessions.
But we can tell that there is tragedy in remission.
As we have to give up our homes and tend to these new positions.
As it becomes clear that waiting is our only option-
In order to escape we must walk through a forest of curtains.
In this fog there is a secret to be learned–
Which is that our identity is to be earned!
The sun has barely begun to rise over the field of wild flowers, wheat, stacks of hay set out to dry in the early morning sun. A older gentleman sets out on their daily walk to a special sacred place to give thanks to God for another sunrise.
An old abandoned church, paint falling off into the grass like snow, just like him, is showing its age. The lock on the door is closed, a stoop serves as his pew, as he removes his hat, bowes his head to pray.
He gives thanks for surviving this day, to give back to this old church which has stood empty for the past decade. His only wish is to restore its beauty, scrape off the rest of paint, paint new white paint, make it looking brand new.
As he scrapes with every ounce of strength, his cancer is taking his strength, he pushes on for he has a goal, to see thus abandoned church come alive again.
He finally opens up the tattered lock, to open its doors, the floor creaks and falls under his feet, he looks up to see an old roof full of holes, showing the morning sun gleaming to his hopeful soul. He kneels on the church pew to ask for help; strength up to Jesus, you can’t help but ask, whom is saving whom?
As the church once again comes alive, he feels a new sense of faith come over him, as his cancer is now in remission, a little old abandoned church now has saved a life..
A man and his dog have saved a church’s life, by the grace of GOD, with a just a scraper and a paint brush, but GOD was watching watching them from above, because an old church was brought back to life, on a early morning walk.
send out this poem to all that you know
Stop the cancer before it grows.
PINK
She was dressed all in pink to show her support
Of how she was one of the cancer victims
And how she had fought.
The cancer now in remission and she
Was leading a normal life
But no one knew of her struggles and strife.
It’s hard to imagine when you’re given that kind of news
We can treat the cancer, but a breast you will lose.
You feel violated and raped by that word
This was something that other people heard. (not me)
Breast cancer has no preference to whether
your yellow, Black or white - male or female
We all have to fight.
You hear about it every day- and it affects
us all in a different way.
You may think that it’s just muscle and tissue taken away
But ask a victim and see what they say.
A MAMMOGRAM AND ULTRA SOUND IS THE KEY
TO HELP YOU LIVE CANCER FREE.
Sitting by the window and reflecting, on one bitter cold day,
The sky cloudy, the weather report predicted snow,
The temperature outside 10 degrees, a little low,
33 years ago, it was a sad, life changing day that May.
My dad is all I could think of, he consumed my thoughts,
The Specialist Oncologist had given us the tragic news,
My soul trembled, my heartbeat fast, I developed the blues,
It was confirmed, my dad had cancer, my stomach in knots.
It was in his bronchial tubes, no therapy allowed,
For it would burn them, and he would certainly much sooner die,
I ran to the restroom at the Hospital, all I did was cry,
We went to a homeopath, who gave us extra time, only borrowed.
My dad was in remission for a year, then immediately,
Like a clock struck twelve, or like a storm with lightening,
The cancer began to spread this awful disease was metastasizing,
In 4 months, a man weighing 95 kilos became a skeleton, disturbing.
Our house doctor lived near and visited my dad every morning,
My dad was very sick by now, an expresso coffee cup of porridge,
We fed him, even water he hardly kept down, such awesome courage,
His breathing was hardly audible, manna mou he shouted, crying.
The doctor arrived, he said that this would be the longest day ever for us,
I took my son to school, explained that his grandpa might travel to heaven,
My father died that morning, my son was inconsolable, he sobbed until eleven
That night, wanted to go to school the next day, grandpa helped him in his test,
He said, and he got an A plus.
NB Manna mou – he was crying for my mom’s mum who he was very close to – Greek words.