#cancer
She’s running out of time and out of breath,
and the memories are starting to leave her.
She says that these things were all she had left,
and she doesn’t want to see people prematurely start to grieve her.
Just give me one more day,
I won’t wish it away.
Every night I’ll pray
that she’ll find the will to stay.
If you’ve never loved you’ve never lost,
those angels from above; they come with a cost.
She’s got all types of artificial life running through her veins,
and yet with all that help she’s still feeling pain.
Just give me one more day,
I won’t wish it away.
When one side starts to sway,
I won’t beg her to stay.
Well now nearing the end of the race,
there’s some decisions one has to face.
I’ll take any comfort to keep heart warm
even if it’s just signing a form,
to give her one last choice,
I hear confirmation in her voice.
And within merely hours,
the tears pour out like showers.
Wasting away, and still I want to say
“please just stay.”
“It’s only May.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t keep this feeling at bay.”
“Please just stay.”
6h ago
Jun 3, 2026 at 1:26 PM UTC
The first sign was the cat
that ran up to us on the street,
he rubbed against us and lay down for a scratch.
I thought it would be that’s that
but three more we were to meet,
a peculiar encounter with an odd batch.
No matter how you pull or how you yank it,
there’s something about those blankets
that make you feel cold.
The only time that a person has one
is when it’s near their time to come;
not destined to grow old.
That night on the TV, there was Bette Midler
in one of my favorite movies
we used to say she reminded us of you.
But the resemblance to her
you said you had failed to see,
I guess it all depends on the point of view.
No matter how they sow when they make it,
there’s something about those blankets
that make you feel cold.
The patterns of the quilt may be appealing
but it’s heat and fate it’s sealing,
to never grow old.
A cardinal came the day after you passed
it was the first bird Kate had at the feed,
I said “I think that’s her saying her goodbye.”
I hope that bird’s not the last
that we’ll ever see because I need
to know you’re still around with her and I.
No matter if you deny or if you thank it
there’s something about those blankets
that make you feel cold.
I’m sure I’ll make use of it enough,
if I’m built so tough
that I can grow old.
2d ago
Jun 1, 2026 at 3:35 PM UTC
every year of delayed achievement,
i accept all the more that she will miss.
when i lose myself to my grievances,
im welcomed home by the warmth of her kiss.
darling mother, who keeps me warm nightly,
i can see the familiar ache in your smile.
if still a family of five by christmas,
here's to your health for another while.
i wonder who i'll be at goodbye,
will you wonder just how much more i could be?
will i wonder what your voice sounded like at night,
when we spoke over every show on TV?
i stare at the wick of this candle,
and fear the room without all its light.
everyday i grieve in the disease's favour,
but today you're alive, and warm, and bright.
May 25
May 25, 2026 at 10:54 PM UTC
just
passing time
many days
lingering
like a dew drop
resting on a bloom
waiting for
that moment
of evaporation
May 10
May 10, 2026 at 11:31 PM UTC
My metabolism stagnates
and then there is even more awaiting
Then there is much to wish for
My tail goes limp
I no longer jump
and no longer feast
on the wonders
I become malnourished
my skin is coming loose
My friend gets worried
as he caresses me
My thoughts, too, are thinning out
Into ghosts, into a horror
of how it may end
And through it all: the bombs
on waterworks and hospitals
There are many alarm signals
and no shelters
May 10
May 10, 2026 at 3:02 AM UTC
Knocked out all along:
my intestines a tangle --
a jam, mikado.
May 10
May 10, 2026 at 3:00 AM UTC
How could such evilness
be so close
To the Kindest heart
I’ve ever known
How could the woman
Who embraced others
In their sorrow
Host the demon that has grown
I am beginning to understand
Time and unexpected events
Overtake them all
I refuse she has been overtaken
I am beginning to understand
Inside and out
No one is better
Because humans have been forsaken
May 3
May 3, 2026 at 9:36 PM UTC
a gowny way of thinking
watching views passing in my head
fasting not attending to any one of them
never thoughts of importance
just a carousel to blur
i trade it
to the task before me
the industrial bath
drains a slow beige stretch
and my brain feels a little pulled at
i’ve a simple washing task
the last sick child of the shift
has been immersed
baptized and ushered out
and I’m left to scour the chemicals away
(hope child will live to see another day)
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 3:19 PM UTC
I recall being wrapped in your arms;
It made me feel invincible.
I carry your love,
It was my armor—
Me and you against the world.
I never understood,
When the truth hit,
When the cancer spread,
The gravity of it...
When you couldn’t be you anymore.
Everything froze.
I clung to the edge;
You’d gone.
I collapsed into the sofa.
But why? Why had you abandoned me?
I was robbed of years.
I never learned your story.
I didn’t get the days with you—
That was the dream.
I needed you.
I was lost without you.
You were far from a saint,
But you were human.
You were my Dad,
I miss you.
Apr 24
Apr 24, 2026 at 6:26 AM UTC
it counts in splits it can’t recall,
divides where there was once a wall.
a copy warped, a mimic wrong,
that multiplies its broken song.
it hoards the breath, corrupts repair,
rewrites the rules of what is there.
no wound to close, no end to keep—
just endless growth that doesn’t sleep.
it learns my face by slow degrees,
unthreads my name from memories,
till every cell that should be “me”
forgets the shape it used to be.
it settles in without a sound,
makes native what it once unbound,
a quiet claim beneath the skin,
as if it had not entered in.
it doesn’t knock—it leaks in slow,
through hidden paths we do not know.
no edge to mark, no clear divide,
just something spreading.. from inside.
no fever warns, no mercy slows.
it is the way the body goes,
when what should end forgets its part
and learns to live by breaking heart.
Apr 18
Apr 18, 2026 at 4:45 PM UTC
Visiting mother-in-law in another state
Her husband, a good son, mama‘s boy
The house was full with brothers and sisters
Drinking playing naked twister.
Mom stayed in her room, unable to get around
Trying not to make a sound
In fact, with all the children under foot,
She felt it best to stay put
Her children filed one by one into her room
To wish her love. Bring cheer to holiday gloom.
They decided to get her a tree
Because in her room she had to be
Unable to make it downstairs to the Den Hanging ornaments, remembering when
Daughter-in-law fit right in
Party Hardy Christmas daze
Brain fog in a haze
Went outside for a smoke
And a quick ****
An awkward Pivot and turn
Snow black, ice, slip and fall
Her bloodcurdling scream wake up all
The inertia of events in slow motion
She fell hard. She felt quick.
Lickety split
Straight on her face,
forget appearances, Social grace
Unconscious for a few minutes she came to
Partygoers didn’t know what to do.
She tried to stand, but passed out a second time
Coming to she was not in the right frame of mine
The right side of her face quickly, turn black blue
The eyes socket, cheek, the chin forehead, too.
She was confused didn’t know her name
This was not a reindeer game
911 ambulance came quickly through the night
Christmas Eve in the hospital diagnosis fight
Doctors judgment call
The question
what came first
The Brain Tumor or the fall
CAT scans MRIs to no surprise
A brain tumor in her head between her eyes
Back home California urgent tests,
CAT scan MRI takes months at best
Backlogged many patients, few machines
Hospital staff long hours work in their dreams
Rule out, Cancer or benign
The waiting game cancer or fine
Cancer This is not her first bout
She has her moments scream and shout
Breast cancer took her right breast out
Chemo decimated her body strength
Is she willing to go the duration the length?
She refused brain biopsy the same
With chemo treatment her feelings not tame
Secondary situations lymphedema remain
Simple movement insane pain
Too much in her head, she sits in bed
Each of her friends offer advice
She listens intently, but doesn’t think twice
She won’t tell any of her friends
For her, this maybe the means to an end
When is enough enough? No more Guff
Rock bottom perhaps she’s done
She told me she’s no longer having fun
Perhaps the last bout of Cancer won
Poked and prodded? morphine Dilaudid.
She needs help going to the bathroom alone
Difficult moving through house open door
She’s losing consciousness waking on the floor
Another fall another twist
A broken arm, broken wrist,
She no longer pretends to try
Angry no more tears to cry
She’s just glad for the life she can live
For finding a man with love to give
Fighting the demons of hatred and fear
Knowing that her time may be near
Inspired Songs
1) Live like you were dying 2004
By Tim McGraw
2) Ships that don’t come in
By Toby Keith late 2023 early 2024?
3)I will survive 1978
By Gloria Gayer
4) You’re Beautiful
By James Blunt
Mar 6
Mar 6, 2026 at 1:56 AM UTC
my father falls asleep next to me at the car dealership
hunched like a baby in the plastic chair
his skin the olden pages of bibles and war histories
creased and ever-yellowing and tucked away in the garage
behind cases and cases of empty busch light cans
soon to make us fortunes at the bottle deposit
we wait for him to speak in bursts and glimpses
i glance and his hands are blurry and clean
clutching tissues and his own bolting head against the a.c.
while i sting against the salesman’s grinning teeth, reduced:
the tower and his little girl,
stony, eroded
to dirt and rotting pumpkins in the first and final frost
he drives us home and we don’t speak about his paper skin
bulging where oceans have crashed upon it
veins jumbled and blotted and unreadable:
devotionals stacked in the basement warped with seasons and *****
from him i learn to grow
taller, hunching, awkward in autumn-stiffened skin;
i plant tomatoes, peppers, zinnias in the icy creek and wait and wait
and wait for spring shoots
from him i learn to grow little cancers in my throat
emerging like crocuses in the silence of march
Mar 15
Mar 15, 2026 at 3:58 PM UTC
i can not relate to people who put gum under tables i have nothing in common with people who put gum underneath tables
i honestly find it difficult to accept the humanity of these type’s of people
my goal in life is to be so completely myself that everyone else feels safe to be themselves around me
for better or for worse i suppose
i had breakfast so naturally i am now immune to my pain, my sickness, the fear of death, heartbreak, uncontrolled mood swings + crying
i lose myself and find myself again + again over + over
i miss you, i want you to **** me + teach me things about myself that i haven’t yet discovered
i hate you, i want you to take me to the coast on your motorcycle + wrap your strong arm around my leg
i’ll take a bath + watch as my anger slides through the water
why can’t you be like me + love life, even with clenched fists
Feb 13
Feb 13, 2026 at 11:21 PM UTC
When news like this comes crashing in,
And all the world feels paper-thin,
When strength is something hard to find,
And fear keeps running through your mind—
Please know, my friend, in all you face,
In every dark or silent place,
Though this is yours to brave and bear,
I promise you: I will be there.
You do not have to walk alone,
Through quiet nights or days unknown.
When things feel heavy, hard, or slow,
I’ll walk beside you, step by step,
As far as you need me to go.
I can’t fix pain, or change the fight,
But I can bring a bit of light.
A hand to hold, a place to rest—
Whatever helps you feel your best.
Your love is fierce. Your heart is wide.
But even warriors need a guide.
And when your strength feels nearly gone,
Remember this:
You’re not alone.
Feb 9
Feb 9, 2026 at 7:39 AM UTC
Have you ever considered
how your shoes will look
without your feet?
I should call Dr. Killeen this afternoon,
find out if I have cancer
but I’m enjoying the extra weekend of not knowing.
Strong oscillations
gather rhythm
and expel me or accept me.
It’s annoying
being the center of attention,
the dead man walking.
Things often work out better than you expect
and this probably will too.
In the transition to non-existence,
Ken said, you get what you believe.
Now that is a truly scary thought,
even scarier than Life is but a dream.
Pain serves the purpose of preparing
one to die.
Other methods have been tried but this works best.
You tie up your affairs
or maintain the discipline you possessed
when feeling well. Eschew
certainty about the afterlife.
All will be given
that must be what faith means.
Don’t forget to breathe.
Rain happens. We supply the reasons.
Leave no footprint in eternity. No smell.
Feb 3
Feb 3, 2026 at 7:24 AM UTC
He was an actor who was talented.
People are sad because he is dead.
He starred in 135 episodes of 'Sanford and Son'.
People are devastated because of the death of Demond Wilson.
Wilson starred in 'Baby... I'm Back' and 'Full Moon High'.
He guest-starred on 'The Love Boat' and 'Today's F.B.I.'.
In addition to being an actor, he was a minister as well.
When it came to acting, he was successful, he didn't fail.
Cancer ended his life and it is very sad because he had to die.
His friends, family and fans are mourning as they say goodbye.
Feb 1
Feb 1, 2026 at 9:05 PM UTC
The vestiges of slavery methodically remain.
Blacks are being killed in broad daylight daily.
Blacks are discriminating against systematically.
Systemic racism is a cancer with a behemothic pain.
The symbols of slavery refuse to evanesce like
A shameful cloud lazily hovering over our head.
There is too much hypocrisy around the sad bed,
And too many racist tail-waggers are ready to attack.
Too many unwell uncle toms are not emancipated.
This is still a highly peculiar world. People don't mean
What they mean and many impostors can't be trusted.
The struggle must continue. Fights are never clean.
Backstabbing is prevalent. The injustice is unbearable.
Life is precious and priceless and yet hope is inevitable.
Copyright © June 2020, Hébert Logerie, all rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Jan 24
Jan 24, 2026 at 1:48 PM UTC
I was thirteen when cancer
decided it knew my family better than I did.
One day you were braiding my hair,
the next day the house smelled like hospitals
and everyone whispered like that would save you.
They told me to be “strong.”
**** that.
I didn’t want strength—
I wanted my mom back,
wanted your voice yelling my name from the kitchen
because I forgot my **** backpack again.
I’m seventeen now,
four years older and somehow still that kid
standing in a hallway that feels too long,
watching adults cry like they’ve lost the map
to their own lives.
Cancer took you slow and ugly.
No movie moments.
No peaceful fade-out.
Just pain, machines, and me learning
new words I never wanted to know.
People say, “She’d be so proud of you.”
And maybe that’s true,
but it still ****** me off
that you’re not here to say it yourself.
I hit milestones without you—
first breakup, first real ******
learning how to drive with no one in the passenger seat
telling me to slow down.
Every win feels crooked without you clapping.
Some nights I’m okay.
Other nights I’m furious at the universe,
at God, at cancer,
at every stupid pink ribbon
that doesn’t bring you back.
I’m still growing up without a mom,
still learning how to carry grief
like it’s part of my spine now.
And yeah, I laugh, I live, I keep going—
but there’s a part of me that will always be
that thirteen-year-old kid
thinking, *this is so ******* unfair.*
Jan 9
Jan 9, 2026 at 3:14 PM UTC
there is a crack in everything;
the burden of ballast, walking
barefoot on the surface of the sun;
waking up in that dark immortal
furnace, outside your locked heart,
to step through the copper door
again and again,
the only way out is through...
Jan 8
Jan 8, 2026 at 12:05 AM UTC
Death came to call
The finality of it all
All one can do
Is smile too
As we age
The face of Cancer rage
It came to call again
Mild skin cancer still scary
It let you know who is in charge
When you’re living your life out large
Pulled out on the main stage
Taking stock of the end of life gauge
Still medical achievements see your way clear
When margins are clean Cancer no longer near
Every day, a blessing to live out loud
To appreciate walking talking using your hands
Just when you get comfortable in your new life
Cancer comes to call husband
CT scan speculating where it will land
Is it like an iceberg 90% underneath?
When you sense urgency in the oncologist
Seeking second opinion with the proctologist
Checking your lungs with the pulmonologist
The second surgeon endocrinologist
It’s rather like the other shoe dropping
Nothing you can do or say for stopping
Body shaking heartbreaking
And that’s all she wrote
Cancer again in my husband’s throat
Doctor asks is there a parent you can call
One by one Cancer took them all
Jan 8
Jan 8, 2026 at 11:51 AM UTC
Cancer, there is no answer
No rhyme or reason
No, typical season
It’s something you get through
Not something you do
Finality seniority
The process regress
The stages of grief
Sometimes death is relief
The things we aren’t supposed to say
The things we think to make it go away
We silently prepare
for the worst Black hurst
Negativity
Under a demon’s spell
Of no return of
The finality of it all
Life marker received the call
When a life ends
People in their grief try to make amends
It is selfish of me to think these things
The fear of what life brings
Saying the silent out loud
Facing the fear, giving it to God, letting Go
Who am I if not, my husband’s wife
What will happen to my life?
What will I become?
In totality I evolve
For whom the bell tolls
Death effects one and all
Not just the one the grim Reaper call
Jan 8
Jan 8, 2026 at 11:48 AM UTC
i put down the disinfectant
rung liquid from a cloth
she calls it anointing the floor
she’s trying but
even this close to death
she has no view on god
and can’t science much afterlife
cancer has ridden up her
and surpassed her pelvis
she just wants a view
thats not a hospital room
a place where she feels okay
to receive final visits
but no facility will take her
till her doctors agree
upon her approximate end date
i continue disinfecting her room
whilst we discuss neat ideas
about 'what happens next'
Dec 11, 2025
Dec 11, 2025 at 9:04 PM UTC