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Mitch P 5d
I forget how much I’ve swallowed
Until it chokes me
Surprisingly in beautiful, innocent moments
When I expect to hear your voice
Instead I hear your gasping
And fall deep into my wondering
What was in your mind
When I was screaming my goodbye
And you were leaving
On a sailboat across the sea
While I stood crying on the shore
Glen Gormley Sep 20
I can’t say when it started for it crept up really slow
Waking at four thirty with the need to have to go
Walking to the bathroom in the middle of the night
Needing to relieve myself, a *** and not a *****.
I’d stand there waiting tiredly for the stream to start to flow
And when it did, I stood and cursed cause it came out so slow.
A trickle took forever, and then it didn’t want to stop
It carried on till it became a drip, a drip, a drop.
I gave a shake, and flushed the bowl, washed hands, retired to bed
I’d sleep, and then I’d wake again, my eyes bloodshot and red.
It was only thirty minutes since I last stood at the ***
But I just had to rise again and stand at that same spot.
Again I’d wait for what seemed hours before I’d start to ****
And wait until that dribble stopped, I can’t go on like this.
At night I’d do this ritual, in the day it filled my head
I’d think was this the dreaded C the curse that all men dread.
So with some trepidation I set off to see the Doc
My **** scrubbed clean and smelling fresh, cologne sprayed on me ****.
For I knew he'd need to see the place no one had ever been
But I wasn’t sure if my wee man needed to be seen.
Just bloods today he told me, no poking, that was good
But he’d have to probe next visit, and there’s no need to see my wood.
A week it passed I got the call to visit him again
My bloods were fine and that was good the poking could begin.
He told me his opinion was my prostate had grown with age
But he’d need to feel it for himself so he would now "engage!"
I loosened off my trousers, on his table I reclined
Thinking thoughts of football, to occupy my mind.
Upon my side I turned away and pulled up my two knees
I wished for Anaesthetic or a jab my **** to freeze.
But in truth I didn’t need it, now I wouldn’t say its fun
But it took only seconds before the test was done.
He said the check had just confirmed what my blood test had just said
I could now remove the thought of cancer from my head.
Those days and nights where worry scurried round my brain
Thinking was it my turn, it was driving me insane.
So guys just get a check-up, you owe it to yourself
To keep a check upon the state of your own prostate’s health.
Jasper Sep 15
Flame
teardrops a
birthday candle,
stuck in a cupcake's blue
frosting. Mom just finished the
happy birthday oration—happy
birthday to you, dear Timmy—
It's time for him to blow out
the candle. He's nine.

His Mother:
Time to blow out the candle, Timmy!


Tim blows it out.


She asks what he wished for.


He says he doesn't wanna jinx it

Patting his leg, she says:
Good idea, honey. Enjoy your cupcake.


No I'm okay, your mama doesn't get hungry easily baby.


Timmy wishes to live.
I had an idea about play-ish poems. Kinda prose-poems, I guess. Decided I should start experimenting with that. Thoughts? Also I made the first stanza in the shape of a teardrop, not sure how noticeable that is.
Jasper Sep 15
Peace
On the operating table.
I wasn’t very faithful,
But ever since Death’s call—
I fear. for my life.
   God save us all.

Adieu, adieu, adieu.
A tremor hits the old room,
Antiques and glasses crash,
Dust folds and my heart.
   It's all gone.
Just experimenting.
{ FREEDOM  “We may want to linger, to stay, to arrest the flow and talk about it, photograph it, lyricize it. Yet this beauty is mercurial and we must let it go, for it is already slipping away to be replaced by the new.” -Stuart Sovatsky }


YELLOW FIELD OF WHEAT


Angel of Death skims blacker than tar
a skeletal knock overturning bowl of oats
smelling of frankincense and ashes
to carry you to a yellow field of wheat
where you will dance radiant waltzes
haloed free

your laughter pranced across blue walls with
Michael Jackson, Spider-Man and cheeky elves
relishing Kentucky Fried Chicken as you
played scrabble with forlorn neighbour
your bony body birthing revolutions of
roulette with green life and grey death

how you endured those precision needles
wanting to instead drum tapered fingers on
waiting desk overflowing with car sketches
your thirteen year old bald head smiling
veins on an enchanting spring moon as our
hidden tears crystallised hospital sheets

we tried to keep up with you scoffing
encyclopaedias, Dickens and muffins alike
cancer like a chess game mastered chemo
doctors and nurses becoming kings or pawns
time in the now or endless pathos stalking
Laurel and Hardy keeping our hearts unlocked

on Merlin’s star-patterned couch you will
jokingly converse with Pele and his team
soccer ball silent under quiescent table
my ink cannot pen sad lines as I feel your
lips still ******* for warm dripping milk
your freedom moonwalks on a yellow field of wheat


©GhairoDanielsPoetry2012
This poem won First Placing in International Poetry Contest 2025 sponsored by Poet-Writer : Mark Toney
If you plant the seeds of love
You'll reap gorgeous flowers of love
And you'll see palm trees of peace
If you spray the seeds of hate
Many plants and trees
Will blossom flowers of hate
And you won't like the fate
Nobody enjoys death and miseries
Ugly, ***** and evil flowers
And people with ill manners
Love is the answer
Hate is a toxic cancer
Be positive and make sense
All the time
Is obviously not a crime
Violence is unacceptable
Peace is divine and preferable
Please use good common sense.


Copyright © May 2017, Hebert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
JD Aug 25
i am ashamed
he is struggling to beat cancer (still fighting)
he is struggling to beat mental health (since passed)
and me...
struggling with physical and mental health
tired of fighting
but
I have to
for those whom I care about
I am ashamed of myself.
To D...keep on fighting.   To M, my heart breaks.
I suffocate staring into your beautiful caramel eyes.
You always leave me surprise
I feel my emotions arise
Now you have me hypnotized
Say my name in that tone again.

I’ll always stay optimistic being your friend
I know this isn’t the end
gaining inspiration from this temptation
I pray everyday you stay blessed,Don’t stress. Wherever you want to go,Let me know.

Unique in many ways. It’s hard to describe
When you have me feeling this way.
Infatuation with the situation.
Here I go mumbling even stuttering.
Fumble the ball to score
10 seconds before the call.
Run it back I won’t tumble & fall.
Made it before the buzzer went off.
Player number one is me
Walked up to ask you.
“Are you my player number two?”
Because I choose you.
Randy Johnson Jul 13
When Dad got Leukemia, he put up a fight.
He took chemo but lost his battle 12 years ago tonight.
After months of taking chemotherapy, he died.
He couldn't beat cancer even though he tried.
He died less than two hours before the fourteenth of July.
He was a good provider and that's something I can't deny.
When a person loses a parent, it's always sad.
Twelve years ago, I had to say goodbye to Dad.
Dedicated to Charles F. Johnson (1947-2013) who died 12 years ago tonight on July 13, 2013
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