Poetry thread anyone?

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  • farila_1966
    farila_1966 Member Posts: 224
    edited November 2009

    Hi there Saint.. How are you doing now? Hope you get well soon. Did they find out what kind of flu (or whatever) you had? Thinking of you and sending you lots and lots of prayers.

  • Saints_sister
    Saints_sister Member Posts: 39
    edited November 2009

    I guess I need to stay on this thread as well, seeing as there is so much of my sister's poetry on it. I am absolutely amazed at this discovery!

  • poetjanet
    poetjanet Member Posts: 41
    edited November 2009
  • Saints_sister
    Saints_sister Member Posts: 39
    edited November 2009

    To all the dear poets on this thread:

    In my spare moments today I have been constructive.

    I have gone through the entire thread and printed out all of the poems that were written by or for my sister. It is a beautiful new facet of the Pat I have yet to know. I want to learn it all by heart - maybe just to try and make up for all the lost time - for what might or should have been -

    Thank you so very much for this wonderful discovery.

  • AnnaM
    AnnaM Member Posts: 1,387
    edited November 2009

    You poets are so inspiring.

    I came looking for words from Saint. She once responded to me in a way that made a big difference in my life.

    I found this from her on these pages, written on September 28th of this year:

    " . . . I feel like that leaf that is hanging onto the branch & won't let the wind rip it away yet!!!!!"

    It gives me comfort to think that we are but a branch on the tree of life. Each leaf on our branch will eventually fall, as will each leaf on each of the other branches. It looks as if the leaves are separate, and in fact we spend a lot of time thinking this is so, but we are all an intricate part of that tree. When we fall we go back to our source. We are here to experience what it is to be a leaf among leaves. We are here to learn that we are one with the leaves, with the tree, and with our source.

  • apple
    apple Member Posts: 7,799
    edited November 2009

    maybe the miracle is Saint herself

    who leads, believes and guides with her own living

    and example of not thinking of her self

    but others first and of her self giving

  • apple
    apple Member Posts: 7,799
    edited November 2009

    Thanksgiving poem

    Thanks for children quickly growing
    lithe and strong and fresh and showing
    signs of maybe caring for those unknowing
    of the largesse life bestows,
    who would give to those who'd gladly give
    a month of those days they live
    in exchange for  a meager taste
    of the food we carelessly waste
    for their own children.

  • Saints_sister
    Saints_sister Member Posts: 39
    edited November 2009

    I LIKE! I REALLY LIKE!

  • apple
    apple Member Posts: 7,799
    edited December 2009

    in my own little corner

    on my own little bench

    i can be whatever i want to be

    even a wench

    (part of a Cinderella piano poem).

  • saint
    saint Member Posts: 1,877
    edited December 2009
  • apple
    apple Member Posts: 7,799
    edited December 2009

    my greetings extend across the divide we scan
     together in our hearts, also too, the beasts
    oddly not connected genetically.  also man
     stands upright and alone and it is easy to
    create vegetable preparations, feasts
    for all here in this hinterland hereto
    we embrace our creatures
    loving them with features
    kind and smiling

     :)

  • apple
    apple Member Posts: 7,799
    edited January 2010

    Godspeed

    indeed

    (a form of a bump*)

  • feistybluegecko
    feistybluegecko Member Posts: 133
    edited January 2010

    here's something I had a lot of fun putting together - i also put it on the october chemo thread as that's where I am............... 

    hope it brings a smile as that's what it's meant to do Smile

    Philippa

    The twelve days of Chemo

    On the first day of chemo these delights came to me
    The most scary, bright pink pee

    On the second day of chemo these delights came to me
    Total exhaustion and some more scary bright pink pee

    On the third day of chemo, these delights came to me
    A very queasy tum, total exhaustion, but no more funny pink pee

    On the fourth day of chemo, these delights came to me
    Very fuzzy head, one queasy tum, total exhaustion, but no more funny pink pee

    On the fifth day of chemo, these delights came to me
    A foul tasting mouth, very fuzzy head, queasy tum, total exhaustion,
    but no more funny pink pee

    On the sixth day of chemo, these delights came to me
    Dreadful constipation, foul tasting mouth
    very fuzzy head, queasy tum, total exhaustion, but no more funny pink pee

    On the seventh day of chemo, these delights came to me
    Clumps of hair a falling, dreadful constipation, foul tasting mouth
    very fuzzy head, queasy tum, total exhaustion, but no more funny pink pee

    On the eighth day of chemo, these delights came to me
    Skin nerves a jangling, clumps of hair a falling, dreadful
    constipation, foul tasting mouth
    very fuzzy head, queasy tum, total exhaustion, but no more funny pink pee

    On the ninth day of chemo, these delights came to me
    Needless tears a falling, skin nerves a jangling, clumps of hair a
    falling, dreadful constipation, foul tasting mouth, very fuzzy head,
    queasy tum, total exhaustion, but no more funny pink pee

    On the tenth day of chemo, these delights came to me
    Clumsiness and stumbling, needless tears a falling, skin nerves a
    jangling, clumps of hair a falling, dreadful constipation, foul
    tasting mouth, very fuzzy head, queasy tum, total exhaustion, but no
    more funny pink pee

    On the eleventh day of chemo, these delights came to me
    Grumpy bad temper, clumsiness and stumbling, needless tears a falling,
    skin nerves a jangling, clumps of hair a falling, dreadful
    constipation, foul tasting mouth, very fuzzy head, queasy tum, total
    exhaustion, but no more funny pink pee


    On the twelfth day of chemo, these delights came to me
    Blood counts a dropping, grumpy bad temper, clumsiness and stumbling,
    needless tears a falling, skin nerves a jangling, clumps of hair a
    falling, dreadful constipation, foul tasting mouth, very fuzzy head,
    queasy tum, total exhaustion, but no more funny pink pee

  • apple
    apple Member Posts: 7,799
    edited January 2010

    bravo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

  • apple
    apple Member Posts: 7,799
    edited January 2010

    bump for littlebird.

  • arnie2two
    arnie2two Member Posts: 1,215
    edited January 2010

    Excellent!!!!  Feisty...you go girl!!!

  • littlebird75
    littlebird75 Member Posts: 120
    edited January 2010

    Apple told me about this thread...Thank you! I'll post a few I had posted elsewhere and some new things. I've enjoyed reading the first three pages of this post and feel like I have found a wonderful "home" of amazing friends who share my enjoyment of words strung together to convey something special.

    Loss


    The nurse is talking in hushed tones
    as if she's telling a secret
    though I'm sure she's told a thousand more like me

    too quickly
    as if I surely know
    as if this is old news
    and we must move on
    to more pressing matters

    Infertility


    the

    word

    drops

    so

    innocently

    from her lips

    I catch my breath
    remove my glasses
    wipe my eyes
    and ask her to stop


    long enough
    for the sound
    of that door slamming
    to stop ringing in my ears

    who might you have been?
    my little girl
    my youngest of three
    that I've been waiting for?

  • littlebird75
    littlebird75 Member Posts: 120
    edited January 2010
    My daughter came today
    which was the last thing I expected
    the last thing I wanted
    if I were being honest with myself

    she had a hug for me
    and we sat quietly
    my husband, my daughter and I
    until my name was called


    the nurse invited her to join us
    though I cringed
    I held the door


    the nurse seated me
    in the infusion chair
    in the infusion room
    patients, IV's, and nurses everywhere.

    my daughter stood
    unsure
    and waited
    for a while
    then made her exit
    almost too quickly

    when she was safely gone
    I breathed
    relief

    *my daughter is 17 years old. I wrote this about my conflicted feelings of having her there with me for my first treatment. *
  • littlebird75
    littlebird75 Member Posts: 120
    edited January 2010

    The Kettle

    the kettle calls the pot black
    she says

    but
    the kettle remembers
    those talks
    into the wee hours
    of those nights
    so cold

    the kettle
    remembers
    the laughter
    the hugs
    all the crazy secrets
    pots and kettles share

    the kettle calls the pot black
    she says
    but
    the kettle remembers
    holding all the tears
    the pot couldn't hold anymore
    and being grateful

    and knowing that's what
    kettles are for
    for holding things
    that no one else can hold
    no one else
    but that one
    that one that knows you
    inside and out
    like the kettle knows the pot.

    I will stop for today...This isn't about BC however as a result of my BC I've recently had a very uncomfortable disagreement with a friend of 7 years. It's been interesting to see how my illness has such a varied impact on those near me. I hope she and I are able to gain a mutual understand and heal this rift.

  • littlebird75
    littlebird75 Member Posts: 120
    edited January 2010

    poetjanet - I know its been a few months, but I've only just arrived at the poetry thread. I loved your "why I'm not me" poem. Thanks for sharing it! I haven't even TRIED group support. I know myself well enough to know it's not where I need to be right now. This discussion board works better for me.

  • apple
    apple Member Posts: 7,799
    edited January 2010

    excellente littlebird - your poetry is LOVEly

    i think we have writer's block or something, because this thread has been kind of low-activity lately. 

    maybe things will perk up now.

  • EWB
    EWB Member Posts: 2,927
    edited January 2010

    Oh my what wonderful words and thoughts, so moving! so gentle, like so many moments I have had over the years....

  • farila_1966
    farila_1966 Member Posts: 224
    edited January 2010

    what have I been missing here??? So glad I came back here today... Now to read those poems in detail again... Loved all of them.

    Farila 

  • farila_1966
    farila_1966 Member Posts: 224
    edited January 2010

    Welcome to the thread littlebird. You have written amazing poems which have touched my heart. 

    Apple you again made me laugh out loud.  

  • farila_1966
    farila_1966 Member Posts: 224
    edited January 2010
    This is not something related to BC but this is something very close to my heart and I want to share it with my friends here.
    In my childhood I often came across old deserted women and men sitting on the road side and begging for food. Most of them once belonged to some good family. I once saw a man begging but he looked well educated and smart. I occasionally would talk to him and one day found that his son was specialist in medicine. These old people would sort of wring at my heart and I would feel very sad and helpless. I was afraid someday I will be different and forget all these people. I was afraid that someday may be I will change into one of those uncaring kids. I felt helpless at not being able to do much. I found solace in the thought may be their end is good and peaceful. I wanted it to be so. Here it is for you to read....This is something very close to my heart and it means a lot to me. I must have written this when I was 17 yrs old... back then I at least had some hope but today at the age of forty four I feel sad, miserable, helpless and also without hope when I see the deserted old people on streets. I did not turn into one of those ungrateful kids.. but also I have never done anything exceptional to help those people.


    AN ANGEL LIED
    An old woman; in dirty tatters she was clad
    Her wrinkled face even when smiling looked sad
    Though her five children were now well off
    All they managed to give her was just a scoff
    Rumor was she was bad tempered and threw tantrums now and then
    So keeping her with them was insulting for her children
    All of them, whom she had once carried in her sack
    Were not bothered now seeing her womb kiss her back
    How easily they forgot she had fed them from her breast
    They couldn't remember for them she had given up rest
    Now in her time of need they chased her away
    Their clever brains decided with them she can never stay
    Driven by hunger she begged around
    Parched and broken lips parted yet came out no sound
    For months and months no comb no oil touched her hair
    If we called her rags clothing, it wouldn't be fair
    Her wrinkled skin forgot what is soap
    Yet she had something left in her. She had hope
    The hope that someday God would send a kind soul
    Other than this she had no other aim or goal
    Though she never saw God, in his kindness she believed
    With respect to the life he had given her she continued to live
    If not begging one could hear her whisperings
    Looking up at the skies and calling upon the king of kings
    Under her breath sending him her only prayer
    To show a human heart; which of kindness had a layer
    But nothing changed and the monotonous days passed by
    Till a night came with not a single star on the sky
    Sleeping under an old banyan tree the old soul shivered in cold
    She tried warming up by rubbing her hands but found them feeble and old
    Everything about her was worn out and she needed help
    Her heart cried now, because now she couldn't help herself
    The cold stormy night lit in her heart a burning desire
    To save her from cold only if only someone would light a fire!
    To her surprise in dark she saw someone with light
    He was a handsome lad whose smile filled her with delight
    He looked pretty and innocent like a blooming flower
    Sitting beside her and talking kindly he lit a bonfire for her
    The fire burnt and made the cold woman warm
    She looked at the lad and wondered at his charm
    Suddenly she realized she was hungry and famished
    The warmth disappeared and her smile vanished
    The woman unable to speak just pointed where trouble stood
    And slowly whispered whether he had with him some food
    He opened a bag and delicious dishes he spread
    To the content of her heart the old lady he fed
    Satisfied now she gratefully looked at the lad
    Something on her face said her heart was yet sad
    Holding her hands the young man said "consider me your son
    Mother, even now you are so sad; please tell me the reason"
    He held her dirty body in a comfortable embrace
    The lady looked at him, doubt written all over her face
    She said, "Only one word, you have to tell
    Child, are you a human or are you an angel?"
    "Mother" said he, "In such a way why do you scan
    I assure you I am no angel but just a simple man"
    The old woman now smile written large on her face
    Lifted her hands upwards and sung her lords praise
    She thanked him for at last He answered her prayer
    And sent a person who could love and care for her
    "My parents" said she, "to love me never came forward
    When married I had to put up with a drunkard
    I thought my lovely children were my consolation
    But truth is bitter and they turned out to be my worst delusion
    So my lord I longed to see a person to me who could be kind
    Today in human form my longings here in front of me I find
    Humanity is not lost, it can't be surpassed by
    As you have proved this to me, in peace now I can die"
    Saying so she lay down as drowsiness began to creep
    Soon the young man saw peacefully she lay in deep sleep
    He slowly stood. His face was now firm
    His appearance changed and he glowed like a glowworm
    He looked at her sadly and as he spoke his face fell
    "I said I was a man, but truth is I am an angel
    If you had not asked from selfish man for kindness
    I wouldn't have landed myself in this mess
    If you had asked for health, beauty or power
    Gifts of it over you I could shower
    Even richness, wealth and realms of gold
    If asked I could have paid you in hundred fold
    I could have easily laid at your feet any nation
    For that matter anything from dear lords creation
    But you asked for a gift which is impossible to find
    How can this selfish human heart be kind?
    A person who would care for an old street woman
    I searched everywhere but I found none
    Alas! To fulfill your last wish I had to lie
    For if not consoled thus, in peace you wouldn't die
    Forgive me lady with you I played foul"
    Thus saying the angel of death took away her soul.............................

    By Farida Rizwan

  • littlebird75
    littlebird75 Member Posts: 120
    edited January 2010

    Farida - thank you for sharing. I can tell what deep meaning it held for you. It's amazing you were just 17 when you wrote it. Very deep.

  • apple
    apple Member Posts: 7,799
    edited January 2010

    gosh Farila.. so wondrous.

    This is for Saint who needs our prayers.

    May the voices and breath of our world that sigh
    with the beauty, wonder and depth of the sky,
    May the turnings of time and the lessons that lie
    in the stones and the leaves and years passing by
    lift up your spirit and fill your heart
    with the knoledge that you are a part
    of all that we are and all we may be.

    Your wisdom and humor, the love that you share
    in a life that is hued with compassion and care,
    and the knowledge that God is the source of the rare
    blessed woman who lives her life as a prayer....
    You bring joy and the love to those who are blessed,
    so honored and fortunate to be a guest
    at the wondrous feast of our Saint.

    May God be with you Saint
    and hold you close with great love.

  • lmank
    lmank Member Posts: 4
    edited February 2010

    Here's my poem

    Cancer Club
    Once you get your diagnosis, the dance party starts
    You can't refuse the invitation,
    Although you're shocked at its arrival,
    It's all your show, a party in your honor

    You can't refuse to dance,
    You're the center of the circle,
    Under lights with ghostly robes of cold gaps a flutter
    Your life weighs with broken plans and sudden regrets

    Under the clinical stare of the doctors and nurses,
    You take your perilous turn,
    Gliding in and out of line
    Don't slip, don't fall behind, don't falter

    With careful words, they follow their standard of care, but
    No one knows for sure.
    Who knows how to face the uncertainty of cancer,
    Without our pleasing positive attitude

    Your fluids are tested, you can chart the progress,
    Of your rebound from each infusion of chemical narcosis,
    As you take your bow in each corner,
    The progression is tireless.

    You become more invisible to the non-dancers.
    The hair goes and the identity with it.
    Women notice and give you a second concerned look.
    Men either shuffle by or with a smile to try to cheer you up.
    We've seen enough, the epidemic has arrived.

    The emptiness now where women used to live,
    Laughing, loving, dancing, crying
    Lacks any fresh air, the candles flicker in the dark.
    We drone in sad songs of comfort for those left behind,
    Shocked, going through the motions,
    How do you leave them behind?

  • apple
    apple Member Posts: 7,799
    edited February 2010

    oh i love that! imank

    it's so poignant

  • littlebird75
    littlebird75 Member Posts: 120
    edited February 2010

    Hair

    two months now
    and this is getting old
    it was fun at first
    but I'm so over it now...

    last week we went out
    and I absentmindedly
    thought
    I should do my hair
    until I remembered
    there is no hair to be done

    I see the brush
    and I reach for it

    I see the hair stylist
    and think
    is it time for a trim?

    I see the scrunchie
    and remember
    I don't have any use for it.

    Hair?
    Please come back.
    I miss you so.

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