Cancer free
Cancer free
My old best friend is cancer free
He didn't share his cancer with me
The cancer that was in his knee
We passed the hospital at three
And my heart had anxiety
But there was cancer in his knee
And no more room was left for me.

tap the vein
the very flow
a fizzle-POP
the gears whir

dry-eyed in the garage
suckling that oaky rind
spin the clocks
if so inclined

the mothers plead
but She still calls for you
repo the lung
the liver too

this sickly sweet memory
this one too many
this cool kid
strutting streets in denim jeans

--
c

"I don't want to exist sometimes."
Dear God forbid those words reprise
"Be careful who you tell these rhymes."
The therapist looked and checked the time
As if waiting for the clock to chime
Next time I'll come, look in her eyes
Then smile and tell happy lies.

When teardrops fall down your cheeks,
Into a million pieces your heart breaks
The oceans start a war, for you
The clouds come through, with you
Yet, you almost never recognize
The universe mourning your loss, by you
While you're swamped up in your own despair,
Thinking you're all alone.

Took this down, but I'm putting it back up after reading a letter by another teacher, deeply questioning his own courage and what has gone wrong In America.
___

Anger, sorrow....
They sometimes converge
in children
The wind explodes them in our hands
and
I hate the world that kills 17 kids
with American Senseless  

Peace--
Impossible possession
The angle of declination
Breath of a moment
  
A violet thread pulled from the hem of day.

Glamour, health and politics,
are ideal morning topics
blending well with hot coffee,
and, these early risers...share openly
their impassioned accounts, simultaneously
seething, with a dark and strong bubbling sea,
making the most, out of a few hours of bonding,
breakfasting, after morning chi kung
(sometimes, with family, reuniting...)
they have moved with the times and days,
subscribing to both old and acceptable new ways...
anger and dislike are voiced gently
no despair hidden...i believe, not a tad of ennui,
.......surely...

these ladies have no fancy hats,
flowered, feathered, or with colored tats
no jewels crown their heads...........just
plain hair: black, brown, long or bobbed,
no pearls grace their necks.....or gloves
that are trimmed, to hide overworked
hands, or wrinkled knuckles......they're
past their golden years, prim and proper,
their own sets of rules are flames burning,
steam rising, like those of coffee brewing
deep in their minds...their values, churning,
their inner beauty, transcending...

their mornings are like a coffee maker,
brimming with bubbles and dark swirls,
tamed, paled in mugs, when cream is added in twirls...
complex issues considered taboo,
sometimes, even plain tattoos
are discussed in hushed tones
voices agree or disagree...until froth is gone
and bubbles have simmered down...

the hours are fleeting, time passes so swiftly
one has gone...but these enterprising ladies
excitedly plan ahead, for their next assembly...

Sally

Copyright November 2, 2016
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan