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The cancer
is beginning
to hurt.
Breath is
noticeably
shorter.
Fatigue
sets in
much more
quickly.
A cough
that
persists.
An internal chest
and sternum
that itches
and burns.
The right
lung back pain
that
becomes
more sharp
each day.
Oh well,
I guess.
We are all
going to die
some day.
Death,
I fear not.
Death was
conquered
by Jesus.
Death
is Eternal life
that I can't
wait
to 'live'.
Cancer
scares me not.



written by me... ..
We
are all
imperfect.
We
all need
a Savior.
Mine is
my Lord
and Savior
Jesus Christ.
Jesus Christ,
God with
skin.
Intense
is this great,
one of
a kind country,
the
United States
of America.

Intense
is the
political
brainwashing
taking place
of those
left of
center.

Intense
and angry
are left wing
folks after the
witch hunt,
Mueller report
duped them
and everything
Russia
Russia
Russia.

Intense
is the
ratings
plummeting
of all
left wing mainstream media propaganda machines like
CNN and
MSNBC.

Intense
is the
Impeachment
talk by
the
Imbeciles
on the left
that have
NO POWER
in the
Senate to
do so.

Intense
is the
feeling
of a possible
clash
between
pink puxxy
hat wearing
baby
murderers
and
2nd Amendment
loving
American Patriots,
Deplorables,
Concrete jungle of New York "rednecks" and "smelly Walmart shoppers"

Intense
I stand
in defense
of my duly elected
President,
by the people,
President Donald J. Trump!

Intense
Antithetical
and
Anticlimactic.



written by me... ..
A bear is chasing me through a meadow
and I’m running as fast as I can but....
he’s gaining on me—it seems
he’s always gaining on me.
I’m running and running but also
thinking I should just
turn around and say,
“Stop it! Stop chasing me. We both
know you aren’t going to catch me.
All you can ever do is chase me.
So,
think about it—why bother?”

The bear does stop,
and he sits on his haunches and thinks,
or seems to think.
And then
the bear says to me,
“I have to chase you, you know that.
Or you should.
And....
sure,
we both know I’ll never catch you.
So, why not give us both a break and
just stop thinking about me?”

But, with that said, he gets back on four feet,
sticks his long pink tongue out, licks down
both sides of his snout.
Then he sighs, looks
behind himself, then at me and says.....
“Okay,
ready when you are.”
your whispers
stir a
still waters
surface.

they sway
the stalks
in fields
of barley.

they're
sure to
change
a face
of grimace.

your whispers
feed my
my largest
sweet tooth
darlin'.

your whispers
are
more quiet
than a
serpent's hiss.

your whispers
spear me
like the
bill of
a marlin.

but enough
of your
whispers
because... ..

i long
for your
kiss.



written by me... ..
I try
to
give a
piece
of me

When I
share
with
you all
my poetry

One day
while standing outside
a
funeral home

Smoking cigarettes
and
as icy
as
Alaska, Nome.

You'll recall
a scribble
of mine
that
reached you

And...

Everyday
after -
looking for
DMF Sr's
scribble
for the day,
eh...one
or two.

But
my page
will be
hushed,
the activity
on it
now dead

At least
enjoy
my book
while
cozied up
in
your bed.

Just know
and
remember -

My pen
will never
dry

Even when
I'm writing
my poetry
from
up high
in the sky.



written by me... ..
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