Short Chemo Poems
Short Chemo Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Chemo by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Chemo by length and keyword.
chemo waiting room
patients eat saltines
from a candy dish
Published in Bottle Rockets #42 2020
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
When lifting hair was not a crime
Tonto was ahead of his time
He saw a bald Ranger
Whose mask made him stranger
A real pandemic paradigm!
Abdominal pain and nausea this day
Thoughts run wild, gallbladder or
Stomach cancer~chemo
Sponsor: Amy Green
Contest: Let's Try A Little Kimo
After first injection, hair started to thin
Eyelash and eyebrows cut to the root
Nothing left but patches of bare skin
But personality was acute
Copyright © 2011 By Caryl S. Muzzey
My therapy is chemical,
I go for weekly sessions.
My artery is femoral.
The site of my injection.
The venom attacks
the mitosis of my splitting cell.
Dyspepsia takes over,
like a spinning carousel.
Titian tresses tumble
as do her tears
I’ll save on hairdressing costs
she says with a watery smile
BITE SIZE POEM no 29 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Line Gauthier
12/10/21
The endless waiting burns into my brain
Every tick of the clock drives me insane
Life washes away with each wave of pain
My sorrow will not let me feel again
My resolve is broken; nothing left to gain
Let death come for me, no need to remain
nurses come to top off my cup,
the coffee and poison mingle
in the air and on my tongue,
she draws the curtain,
moans next door persist,
snow falls outside the window,
the ground pure white,
trees naked and swaying,
like the grass beneath,
the people huddled inside,
waiting for crackers and another hot cup,
and for the coming spring,
the first green bud peaking from the death of snow
Chemo War 2 (some months ago)
So many months of toxic love? and radiation,
meds, destroying disfigured foes
collaterial danage as useful cells die
and badly burnt in chemical
and radiant heat, I am drained and pale
my hair thinned, my skin red and raw
this is the final fight, the battles’ at an end,
the last scars formed, last viens pricked
tap tap tapping of the MRI with me alone
life seems now too heavy a chore
Sitting in the backseat ~ yackety
she drives like
crackers ~ wackedy
speeding to the movies?
we can’t be late?
Driver ahead asleep at the
light
panic stop she makes ~ 5 seatbelts lock
But the
backlash! ........... flying wig
plops smack in my lap . . . .
Screaming fits of laughter all around.
Late to the movies after all,
not nearly as good.
Dedicated to my friend, Kate.
Breast cancer survivor.
They pierced my port – they took my blood
Read those reports – said listen Bud
Your platelets are a bit too low
So we’ll unplug and you can go
You’re just below the preferred range, sir
But not so low that you’re in danger
Your blood needs platelets if it’s to clot
But your blood hasn’t got a lot
If you get cut and start to bleed
Well, that would not be good indeed
So you go home and get some rest
Come back next week, it’s for the best
Mdailey 5/25/11