Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
When did it visit me?
I really don't know when.
It came out of nowhere,
I feel that it's a sin.

Naked in the shower,
washing up clean.
I felt this little lump,
scared and unforeseen.

Feeling all alone,
I looked up to the sky.
Fingers locked together,
I asked the Lord, "Why?"

Now, I lay in silence,
while the tumor grows inside.
Putting up these walls,
all I do is cry.

Months have gone by,
with the chemo and the draws.
The sickness took my *******,
now that's the final straw.

It's been six months now,
I struggled for my life.
I beat the **** cancer.
I AM HAPPY, I WILL SURVIVE!!
My mother is a breast cancer survivor. But I also wrote this for all the survivors and to the ones to whom that lost their battle with this disease!  PLEASE SHARE AND LET THIS TREND!!
Cosplay Human

the art or practice of wearing costumes to portray characters from fiction, especially from manga, animation, and science fiction; a skit featuring these costumed characters
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
this cosplay of human we so oft effect,
movie projection of shaped variations,
semi-firm but mostly pliant,
bone not-so-hard-as-we-believe,
draped in skins of tissue pre-perforated,
we are forms that can last a century,
yet shrivel back to fetus in days,
for lack of simple water...

think human and know simultaneous,
billions of earth persona and
billions of cells in each
by  for  of -
the people,

each masked, each outfitted
in uniforms of differentiating gaps
more alike, all unique,
masses of differences of constructs same,
this cosplay is a preeminent miracle...

all of us
nakedly similar,
all naturally defiant of time,
all defeated by time, naturally...

this skit we play routinely,
costumed in a manner similar,
yet different, to distinguish ourselves,
and mark as group members
pretending to
vive la différence!

what import all this, pretty words
that tell us what we know instinctively?

just this...

I see you
perhaps you see me

changing my costume
not by choice,
still do not wear a
masque

my cells my words,
no cosplay,
my humanity on parade,
my file open to inspection

dare you visit the beginning,
when passion drove me,
the early version,
when I was not circumspect,
and my poems
were passion plays,
verifiable truths
and cosplay was not
part of my vocabulary
 Oct 2014 Ayman Zain
Hilda
Sweet gentle daughter of dreaming blue eyes
Reflecting visions from some distant sphere;
Untainted by nightmares of icy fear,
Nor saddened yet by fate's mocking disguise.
Unopened book of fickle tomorrow,
Not certain of how future may unfold,
With hours of lead or hours of molten gold;
Unenlightened yet by unknown sorrow.
Sands rush through the hourglass of wasted years,
While breaking our young hearts with shattered dreams.
The clock of life wrings disappointed tears,
Unhampered by our plans and clever schemes.
Beware grim reaper swinging ***** blade
Who mocks thee as childhood days slowly fade.

**~Hilda~
© Hilda September 20, 2014 4:48 PM
Dedicated to my dear daughter Marian.
 Oct 2014 Ayman Zain
LETITFXRING
Everything will begin
To change
And you'll  *remain the same
10w
 Oct 2014 Ayman Zain
Firefly
Fly not yet; 'tis just the hour
        When pleasure, like the midnight flower
        That scorns the eye of ****** light,
        Begins to bloom for sons of night,
         And maids who love the moon.
        'Twas but to bless these hours of shade
        That beauty and the moon were made;
        'Tis then their soft attractions glowing
        Set the tides and goblets flowing
        Oh ! stay, -oh ! stay,
        Joy so seldom weaves a chain
        Like this to-night, that, oh! 'tis pain
        To break it's links so soon.

        Fly not yet; the fount that play'd
        In times of old through Ammon's shade
        Though icy cold by day it ran,
        Yet still, like souls' of mirth, began
         To burn when night was near,
        And thus should woman's heart and looks
        At noon be cold as winter brooks,
        Nor kindled till the night, returning
        Brings their genial hour for burning.
         Oh ! stay,  -oh ! stay,-
       When did morning ever break,
       And find such beaming eyes awake
         As those that sparkle here?
 Oct 2014 Ayman Zain
cherish
Do you ever think about how you are just one grain of sand in the enormity of the universe?

one single grain being knocked around by the ocean of life

and the ocean's sky the universe
and the universe the universe's universe

ups upon ends upon books and books miles thick
of words, like worlds

each sentence a galaxy
spun around to form a coherent blip into existence
of meaning, of thought, of being

a Humanity
among many

infinities and infinities of numbers
perpetually cycling.

If nothing else, even if I will never fully comprehend the nature and complexity of the universe as it extends past the capabilities of me

I will understand another
and be understood in return
and that will be more than enough.
I've noticed the few times I've written poetry, I always gravitate towards using metaphors involving the ocean and space. The two great mysteries.
Next page