The Good was Taken out of the Summer
The good was taken out of the summer,
With her garden patch left abandoned,
Lettuce heads and scallions gone wild,
Her sweet summer plans all spoiled.
The good was taken out of the summer,
With green fly festering her roses,
Overwatered orchids on the sill
As her plastic bread bowl lay still.
The good was taken out of the summer,
With Hunter, her dog left in waiting
For her voice, her footsteps, her care
And the fridge in the kitchen left bare.
The good was taken out of the summer,
Put on pause til her homecoming came,
While in convalescence she lay
In a nursing home, day after day.
The good was put back into summer,
When she returned to where she belonged,
To her garden patch, Hunter and flowers,
To sit,
To be still,
To be ours.
The trolling of the iron bell
brought the pair together
in sickness and in health
through all kinds of weather
he a macho manly male
anticipating his marital right
she a timorous maiden frail
awaiting her wedding night
no more lingering at the church
or languishing left in the lurch
no more cake or champagne
someone left it out in the rain
and that which is to come
he acceding to her every plea
she submitting to his every wish
a happy couple for all the world to see
Your smiles frozen over,
and you stand tall above the water
like an iceberg, so tall and elegant
in your presentation.
But surface-level trickery
can’t fool or satiate
my scuba diver
curiosity.
I see through your
poorly constructed ruse.
I prep my gear,
dive deep into your ocean,
and discover that underneath
the surface-level beauty lies dormant
a bummock of cuts and bruises.
The true nature of things,
the true nature of you.
A life packed full of solutionless problems,
scribbled out like math equations
written on a chalkboard
by a genius mathematician
who can’t ever prove his theories
or get anything to work.
Nobody understands him
because he can’t even understand
the things going on
in his own head.
Now,
enough of the comparisons.
Let’s get back to the subject.
You’re chronically ill.
Your condition is worsening.
You present yourself in a positive light
while, under the surface, you're
withering.
I worry for the day
when all of your problems
become too much
for you to bear,
and you slip away
like an avalanche
in the Arctic,
never to be
seen again.
Sickness can turn your house into a personal jail
When friends come to visit you use anything as a veil
The moments you lose track of the day and time
If you need medicine you would spend every dime
To pass the time you watch old episodes on Netflix
Eating soup for dinner and inhaling vapors of vicks
It feels like a vacation you weren't meant to enjoy
Your phone, tablet or book becomes your new toy
Every task that you had planned never gets done
Your skin tone begins to change from having no sun
If you're married your mate becomes your waiter
Every sentence is "Honey can you do me a favor"
When you're sick it actually gives you time to unload
But this is your life in a nutshell when you catch a cold
Everything in the summer is like a bog.
Even when you live in the driest desert.
Bog, fog, everything is dragging along.
Summer mosquitoes.
Open toed shoes, letting in sand, and mud.
Everything is sinking, sickly.
When it’s summer, you can buy an ice cream cone.
Which is nice for five minutes.
Then the bog, fog, and haunting stretch of road continues.
Summer starts around June.
And peaks everyday at noon.
By 10:30 pm,
We can’t sleep because it’s hot.
Nothing takes away the dry breath and murky feeling.
Not even the summer butterflies which fly erratically.
The window is closed and the air conditioning is on.
Sounds of June.
July will still be summer.
A hotter, more draining summer.
Continues.
A promise born, a life designed,
To emancipate, to break the bind.
But fate dealt blows, parents passed away,
Leaving her to shadows, in a world astray.
She sells her body, a living corpse,
A pretty face, a paradise sepulcher, a tragic force.
Uncertainty looms, her future unsure,
A womb evacuated, her soul obscure.
Loneliness creeps, a dejected soul,
Yearning for companionship, a heart that's whole.
"I need a child," she cries, "who'll stand by me?"
But all have fled, fearing disease's decree.
Meanwhile, he seeks to blend, to chill with the bold,
A "Jogolo" tagged, making women happy, but growing old.
He dupes and uses, but ends up used and worn,
A walking corpse, his life misled, his future torn.
Both lost, both alone, both searching for more,
Their lives a testament to the choices they've explored.
Yet, in desperation, she looks up to the skies,
Her maker stretches His hands, a rescue surprise.
you're
damaged goods,
people say
many
implored me
to run,
not walk,
far away
from you;
they told me
loving you
was a sickness,
but I'd take
my chances
fighting
against
the beast within....
a feeling
that keeps on
b l o o m i n g
in my heart
for you
I'm deaf
to all entreaties.
it's me and you
v e r s u s
all of humanity!
if my devotion to you
is indeed...
"a sickness"
then...
I want
no cure,
I need
no doctor,
and I'll take
no drugs;
I'd rather remain...
sick.
(The Hollow City Cycle include:
The Hollow City
I Remember You -- the city speaks
Last One Left)
They never saw me--
not fully.
Even when I begged them with my eyes,
or left poems scratched on alley walls
between peeling posters and prayer graffiti.
When they fled,
I stayed.
Not out of bravery,
but because I had nowhere else to go.
Now the city wears silence like a crown,
and I walk her streets like a loyal dog
chained to a ghost.
I sleep in shattered chapels
and drink rain from rusted fountains.
I whisper names to broken windows
just to hear the glass shiver.
At night,
I dance with shadows
that don’t know they’re gone.
I don’t know what I am anymore.
Not memory,
not mercy--
just the last heartbeat
in a place that has none.
(The Hollow City Cycle include:
The Hollow City
I Remember You -- the city speaks
Last One Left)
You left me when the lights flickered
and the water turned bitter.
When the sky coughed ash
and the birds stopped singing.
You ran.
All of you.
As if I hadn’t held your every heartbeat
in the bricks of my spine.
I fed your dreams--
from paper boys to prophets.
I kept your secrets
in sewer grates and sun-warmed benches.
I lit your windows,
caught your tears,
sheltered your sins.
And now--
the vines know my name.
The weeds whisper lullabies
where children once screamed.
The wind is my voice,
and it remembers.
Don’t come back
to grieve what you abandoned.
I have roots now.
And bones.
(The Hollow City Cycle include:
The Hollow City
I Remember You -- the city speaks
Last One Left)
No footsteps echo on broken stone,
only wind dragging secrets through dust.
The city sighs—
its breath made of ivy and rust.
Windows gape like hollow eyes,
watching nothing, remembering everything.
A carousel groans beneath twisted vines,
still waiting for laughter
that will never return.
Billboards fade into ghost stories.
Sidewalks crack like old skin.
Somewhere, a music box plays
a broken lullaby
to the bones of joy.
This place is a tomb
with the scent of childhood chalk
and the silence of too-late prayers.
Whatever happened here
left no fire,
only
quiet.
At last I found the reason
Why my mood has been so low
Many trials and tribulations
All these things You didn't know
Know of all the sickness
And know about the pain
I'm thankful that I have You Lord
With You I can't complain
Some days are bright and sunny
And some are dark and blue
Please help me Lord to guide my steps
So that I may feel brand new
Mixed into the depths of my soul, a darkness resides
Shadows that linger, a presence that hides
A place where fears and doubts will grow
A realm where hopes burnt out light won't glow
The darkness within me, this labyrinth of night
A maze of shadows that consume all light
This place of solitude, where the mind can't rest
A sanctuary of sorrow where the Spirits nest
In this darkness within only silence shall reign
A stillness that echoes where quiet sustains
It's a place where courage dare not speak
A realm where strong hearts turn instantly weak
This darkness within me, a void so profound
A chasm so deep buried in the lowest of ground
It's a place of uncertainty, where the future can't dream
A realm of the unknown where the light has no beam
In the depths of my soul, this darkness resides
This shadow that lingers, this presence that hides
bmdavey@11/15/2024
Through nights that steal both sleep and rest,
I give my all, and hope for best.
Each heartbeat tells a tale unknown,
A life I guide, yet not my own.
With science sharp and spirit high,
I soothe the soul, though some must die.
No gold or fame shall mark my name,
For duty, not for worldly claim.
Where sickness treads, I’ll take my post,
And serve the weak who need me most
When I am sick would you come visit me with fruits,
Sit beside me to peel me clementines as I hear your rambling?
Would you hold my hand in yours to ask me how I am feeling,
Gently caress my face with your warmth
As you tuck behind the hair falling on my face?
Would you spare me a glance full of fondness before you leave
And promise me you would return the next day?
If you would, would you right now?
For I am sick and dying, rotting from my insides
Waiting for you to notice my withering away from your side.
In the quiet corners of my heart,
Where pain and strength intertwine,
You lean on me, expecting much,
Unaware of the battles I silently fight.
Your eyes sparkle with dreams ahead,
Yet behind my smile, there's a hidden pain,
A struggle I bear with every breath,
Trying to stay strong through the strain.
I treasure our bond, our laughter shared,
But in the shadows, my illness persists,
Each day a challenge, a burden to bear,
Yearning for relief amidst the twists.
I want to share in your joy and hope,
To support you, be there by your side,
Yet know, my friend, I silently cope,
My strength tested, but I won't hide.
For in this journey, despite the illness' grasp,
In every ache, resilience unfurls,
To be the friend you need, steadfast,
Navigating life's unpredictable whirls.
Cherish these moments as we press on,
Together, enduring, hand in hand,
Through highs, lows, an unyielding bond,
Friendship's light, in our hearts, will stand.
By Innantia Magcanya
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