Poem blog

Lost my wife to skin cancer back in Feb 2006, have a blog with poems on that
may help others, please take a look and forward on to anyone you think may
benefit from them.

www.cancerpoetrykidslife.blogspot.com

thank you

Stephen

--
SR Mosaics
Original Mosaic Artwork

"what we do for ourselves dies with us, what we do for others lasts forever"

Stedee wrote:

> Lost my wife to skin cancer back in Feb 2006, have a blog with poems on that
> may help others, please take a look and forward on to anyone you think may
> benefit from them.
>
> www.cancerpoetrykidslife.blogspot.com
>
> thank you
>
> Stephen

Thanks Stephen,
Best wishes with your new family/life.
(melanoma)
J

Stephen wrote :

"Lost my wife to skin cancer back in Feb 2006, have a blog with poems on
that
may help others, please take a look and forward on to anyone you think may
benefit from them.

www.cancerpoetrykidslife.blogspot.com"

Hi Stephen,

May I say congratulations on your new life, and new family of five (!), and
also on your creativity. My personal dance with cancer has not been anywhere
near as tragic as yours, but it had its moments of darkness. For me
expressing myself creatively (I am a poet since age 11 ... which makes that
53 years of poetry, short-stories, story-telling, and two novels ... none of
which has caused any great advance in literature was a key to my survival
while dealing with cancer and at the same time loss (she left) of a long
relationship in which I had invested (perhaps inappropriately or insanely)
so much of my hopes for a future family.

Let me leave you with a poem, if I may, written during month two of
radiation (about six months ago), when my whole throat was pretty well
deep-fried : but this poem somehow emerged from its coccoon hopeful ...

The Sweet Coccoon

I'm not talking about a Wind that Whispers, or Swamps
Where Will-O-The-Wisps light up floating miasmic Vapours,
And I'm not singing my Lines Now : Fact is out of Tune, my Falsetto
Haunted by Oriental hemi-demi-quavers; Melody is way off There.

There was no Map brought Me Here (or There) : I leave no String behind,
To take Me back Out; I've erased the ancient Outback markers,
Deliberately scraped old Glyphs of Sound and Animals off Rocks :
Hid Here in a Nowhere where the thirsty Dreams are sure to pass Me by.

Oh yes ! This Is a watering-hole where They Must come at Night :
This Is a Carousel they Must spin-on endlessly delighting in Mirrors :
This Is a Factory where they knock out near perfect copies of Fantasies
To sell back-street cheap : malleable membranes for altering Memory.

And as I Change Memory, so am I ... not ... Lost, Destroyed, Mutilated,
But Re-Woven into this Sweet Coccoon, patched, re-embroidered, re-Born.

Uncle Sally wrote:

> Stephen wrote :
>
> "Lost my wife to skin cancer back in Feb 2006, have a blog with poems on
> that
> may help others, please take a look and forward on to anyone you think may
> benefit from them.
>
> www.cancerpoetrykidslife.blogspot.com"
> [...]
>
> Let me leave you with a poem, if I may, written during month two of
> radiation (about six months ago), when my whole throat was pretty well
> deep-fried : but this poem somehow emerged from its coccoon hopeful ...
>
> The Sweet Coccoon
>
> I'm not talking about a Wind that Whispers, or Swamps
> Where Will-O-The-Wisps light up floating miasmic Vapours,
> And I'm not singing my Lines Now : Fact is out of Tune, my Falsetto
> Haunted by Oriental hemi-demi-quavers; Melody is way off There.
>
> There was no Map brought Me Here (or There) : I leave no String behind,
> To take Me back Out; I've erased the ancient Outback markers,
> Deliberately scraped old Glyphs of Sound and Animals off Rocks :
> Hid Here in a Nowhere where the thirsty Dreams are sure to pass Me by.
>
> Oh yes ! This Is a watering-hole where They Must come at Night :
> This Is a Carousel they Must spin-on endlessly delighting in Mirrors :
> This Is a Factory where they knock out near perfect copies of Fantasies
> To sell back-street cheap : malleable membranes for altering Memory.
>
> And as I Change Memory, so am I ... not ... Lost, Destroyed, Mutilated,
> But Re-Woven into this Sweet Coccoon, patched, re-embroidered, re-Born.

That's breautiful. Thank you, US.
J