Long Inoperable Poems
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there is this vendor on the corner
where the girl with the inoperable brain tumor used to sit
she loved to tell her stories about the characters in the room of her mind
she would read to the vendor with her uniquely sloppy handwriting
the vendor was amazed at the depths her imagination took him
she was not a prodigy of any kind
she was just a little girl with ideas
that inoperable brain tumor did not matter
then today came
i told said vendor today that the little girl with the active imagination died last night
the vendor just smile slightly and thanked me.....and then pulled out this book
i forgot that i had to leave
the little girl's brain lives on in that book
thank you, Little Miss Ray-Anna, Peace Be With You All-Ways....
How should I describe this empty?
So that you may wake from this slumber
With my words,
As some magic kiss.
It is far more deep, and tender
then any other wound.
You
Who had stretched tenderness,
The ability to believe,
Over my once
Inoperable fear
Of forever.
You
Covered me
In a definitive reply to a puzzle
That had never seemed to make sense.
And you
Borrowed from my well of dreams,
In hopes to fill our bellies
With waters less dark
And wanting.
So tell me before you go,
One last time before you go
How should I fill this empty?
This lack of me now,
This lack of
You?
Most of my life
my left shoulder sheltered it
while my right shoulder threw darts its way.
Sometimes it shivered in the cold of my eyes.
Often I would take it for night-walks
just the body it dwelt in
a restless mind still hollowing
inside that death raised form.
The moon back then was a white cow
I would lead on a pulsing thread.
It grazed on the electric chill of my skin.
In the bare woods where starlight
raises tree roots so that they may see
and grasp themselves
it came to me
bringing the salt seeded bread of life
still warm from my sleeping blood.
In that gloaming it began to sing.
From far away I could hear it,
feel it move deeper into my
distant chest.
It has been diagnosed,
found to be inoperable.
Knives break their necks upon it.
Thought is felled.
In these latter times
a great migration has occurred,
has displaced all words
that think or dance
it has moved and removed
my sense of being.
For now I dwell in it
and it is no longer in me,
the way an ocean is in the fish
and it never knowing
until told,
but no one speaks of this
only those raised up to be mad,
Yet now I speak of it,
not in an esoteric or poetic way
but as a deep sea creature would speak.
For now it flows through me,
and that which I once called: it,
I have named
I have labeled
soul,
not 'my soul'
just Soul.
No doubt in time
that label will also change
leap away
into the forever nameless.
For once this is not fiction
Can you change the past?
I yearn to,
But on condition I carry with me
All that I have learned.
But you cannot change the past.
Still, I yearn for a bottle
Of chilled white wine Chablis.
Delicious on the palette,
Exquisite with rice and plenty of seafood.
The aroma of truffled sauce, the razor clams,
The pinkish prawns and open-wide oysters.
It is my delight.
I yearn for silence, away from rife,
The sounds of cars crashing, the boom of guns,
The killing of innocent people.
I yearn for peace.
I yearn to travel as I used,
For I visited half of Europe
And ventured to Brazil.
Now I’m Island bound and
Travel is no more.
You look good, they say.
But only on the outside.
I yearn for health inside:
The small inoperable cancer,
Kept in check by implants
With bouts of depression
That twice I deleted my poetry site.
Good thing I kept copies of my writings.
But my heart is weak after
Twenty years when I had a triple bypass.
My right eye has the beginning of a cataract,
My left knee needs a replacement
But with Diabetes 2 no operation can be done.
I yearn for my wife.
Seven years I still grieve for her.
She’s in Heaven now.
I yearn for my beloved Lord.
The creator of all.
I pray He takes care of me.
May He grant me a happy death.
And may the Rose of Sharon help me too.
A train door closes packed with passengers.
Destinations being most different than others.
Typical light touches, embarrassing rubbing,
Lastly, the ever so bothersome nudging.
Unfinished conversations, from platform
Carries on within the overcrowded train.
Yapping and gabbing, defined as gossiping,
Amidst disgruntled passengers within-earshot.
Young teen of a nimble mind, lights a cigarette,
To a host of an onslaught accord that repeats,
All trains are non-smoking so put it out you creep!
An infant goes from a whispering innocent alto coo,
To an uncontrollable, unstoppable, sopranos' scream,
Unheedful to weariful pleads of failing-to-comfort bass.
A newspaper that was fully read, is now being
Reread from its beginning, cites boredom
From too long of a wait, passing time fruitlessly.
An out-of-town couple, ask an old guy to take
Their picture, but to everybody's surprise, he
Took the camera and slammed it to the train
Floor, whereto, it broke into unrepairable pieces,
"Hi-ya!" was heard, a karate chop is all was needed,
So down for the count, the old pus was out,
Camera pieces and out-of-town couple all gone,
And gossips continue on, that now includes
The old pus and out-of-town couple.
The engine is heard and a forward thrust is felt,
At last, they are about to go on...until suddenly...
They jerk to a stop...then a voice is intensely heard,
..."We at Metro apologize for this undue delay,
For this train is now inoperable, so please disembark
And take all you have with you, as this train will
Now head to the shop from this station.
Bear in mind that another train has been dispatched,
Whereto, it will take you to your final destinations."
"We at Metro, would like you all to have a pleasant day!"
This all took for a moment of time, to record in the annals
Of the written memory that is historically held in the
Everlasting void belonging to the sanctity of a mere...
~~ second.
Date: 06/07/2019
Mesmerized by phantasmagorical flames
brandishing cerise, fuchsia
and crimson-colored
tongues of fire;
I marvel at the beauty of the beast.
I see the chard smoldering underbelly
of the flames, cloaked
in bellowing blankets of thick smoke;
its flames lapping at the coating of hope
someone had amply applied to their dream home.
I hear the glass windows
screaming as the broken panes
shatter the illusion of a quiet death;
and the house, no longer a home, crumbles.
I witness irreplaceable memories
melt like plastic soldiers
stationed at the gates of hell;
with little chance of rescue or survival.
I smell the acrid stench of fear
clinging to the hopelessness
of a devastated family;
like an inoperable cancer
that has metastasized.
I grasp the stark reality that confronts me;
and a tear trickles down my cheek.
Please tell me why we didn't get our happily ever after?
I fell for you hard, it was love at first sight
As our love grew you became my everything
We were inseparable and all was right
Every day you caused my heart to sing
Please tell me why we didn't get our happily ever after?
We got married almost a year after we met
I loved you so much, I wanted to bear your kids
You introduced me to watching the sunset
I often think of a house full of grandkids
Please tell me why we didn't get our happily ever after?
I thought it was your witty sense of humor
Because of the funny faces that you made
We found out you had an inoperable brain tumor
You're not here, and your place I would trade
Please tell me why we didn't get our happily ever after?
3-9-17
Alexis Y.
It’s only a Guinea pig, people eat them,
the cattle don’t complain.
Peruvian mountain folk do not have to starve,
there’s no dearth.
Many are bred for their special coats of course:
the Slinky, the Peruvian, the Abyssinian,
the American; the American
is good with other guinea pigs -
good to know.
This one must be a mutt,
it always reminded me of Elvis in his fat period,
and now it has inoperable guinea pig cancer.
When my son gets back from school
I will help him bury it in the garden
next to the cat and hamster plot.
I have a little burlap bag to put him in,
it used to hold peanuts
I think Elvis would like that.
All Eagles!!
There is a time in everyone’s life when Mother Eagle throws you out of the nest and either you fly or die,
All Eagles!!
There are times in your life where those closest to you make you feel like the worst person ever born.
All Eagles!
When you feel yourself plummeting to the ground at ever increasing speed and the only future you feel is your body splattered on the ground.
All Eagles!
When you lose all of your faculties and feel like there are little creatures crawling around in your body,
All Eagles!
When you are diagnosed with terminal and inoperable Cancer.
All Eagles!
When your spouse divorces you for your closest friend, and you have to see the two of them once a week as custody alternates,
All Eagles!
When the investors of your startup all decide to pull out, and the electric company threatens to turn your lights off if you don’t pay the utility bill,
All Eagles!
When you are plummeting to the ground, assured that your demise is upon you.
Feel it!
Experience it!
Be discouraged!
Be afraid!
This is natural!
But as you descend, and after you have mourned and grieved appropriately,
Reach within yourself and find this message:
“Little Eagle, I know that I seem like a cruel God to let you experience this.
But I have a plan.
This is not the end for you.
You were destined to fly.
But you are an Eagle, and before you fly you must fall,
You must fall with terrifying speed,
And you must feel like all is lost,
And when you let go of everything you thought you wanted out of life,
And you say to me, “God what’s next?”
That’s when you will feel the strength to spread your wings and sore!!
Little Eagle, I know it seems like there isn’t much more that you can try,
But don’t give up,
Because death is not your destiny,
You are created to fly!
Now do so!!”