voguegeh Aug 2013

Purple patches coving your completely swollen cheeks.
Gums conquering your teeth.
Bruises all over you arms.
You walk into class, and all goes quiet.
Then comes the incessant laughter.
After they calm, and you sit down, embarrassed completely.
The whispers, the giggles, the pointing, you cannot handle it.
You run out of the room and dash out of the school.
You run all the way home,
and as soon as you reach your bedroom, you drop to the floor,
screams and sobs flooding your household.
Of course, the kids would laugh. I'm ugly, I'm different, I'm disgusting.
And I've been cursed with Leukemia.

Kiagen McGinnis Jan 2012

old school rap,
you always tried to tell me and i couldn't listen until you were gone.

sunny open window naked romping music
moving forward from your empty body music

pale skin but not as pale as yours

when i met this new
, he said

                                          it's time for new songs
                                          something to mark this page with

but i just keep rereading your obituary

miss you always, Thomas
Lindsey Sherman Sep 2014

A huge kinda toothy smile...
A smile that fills her eyes with light
-a light that shines through everyone around her.
A smile that says,
"I live my life shamelessly

A smile that says,
"You can throw anything in my way, but you'll never beat down my
optimistic flare."

A smile that says,
"I appreciate all that I have
& do not dwell on what I don't."

It's that real, honest
kinda genuine smile
that does not conceal her problems...
It conquers them.
A smile that blames no one for its frowns.
A smile that makes us all smile
just thinking about it.
A smile that always stays with me
even now that its gone to a better place...
A more deserving home.

This is for my beautiful friend, Melissa.
Randy Johnson Jul 2015

When I saw you in your casket, it brought tears to my eyes.
You died two years ago today on the thirteenth day of July.
When the doctors said that your illness was terminal, I didn't want to believe that it was true.
But sadly, they were correct and two years ago today, we lost you.

From 1975 to 2010 you worked at Woodcraft, you worked with lumber.
People may think that I'm crazy because I believe that 13 is an unlucky number.
You died on the thirteenth year of the century and also on the thirteenth day of July.
You took Chemotherapy treatments for months and two years ago today, you died.

Dedicated to Charles F. Johnson (1947-2013) who died on July 13, 2013 at the age of 65.
Ophelia Aug 2014

My dear friend, I know it’s been some time now, but it seems just like yesterday,
when I held your trembling hand so tight.
You still cross my mind all the time and I smile, even though tears are burning my bloodshot eyes and my lips are starting to shake.
And my throat is sore from all the screaming and I can’t say a word anymore.
How come, I became so weak and minuscule?
I don’t know, but your departure broke me, my sad and lonely friend.
One moment you were there next to me, smiling, laughing, and your beautiful eyes sparkling filled with the beauty of innocence and youth.
The next one you were gone, behind grey dreary walls of hospital, pale, weak and with pain and suffering on that lovely face.
Oh my friend, I’d give it all just to see you again, feel you again or hear you again.
Instead I only have faded memories of you and me, and dusty framed pictures keeping our once existing smiles and jokes.
My weird crooked smile is still there, but after everything I’m not so sure about yours.
I’m so sorry I couldn’t change anything, that I couldn’t help you when you fell into the arms of that lurking demon, that cruel illness called leukemia.
I can not describe how bitter I am since that day.
My whole world came crumbling down, breaking walls that were not that high, crushing everything I have ever known.
My desperate screams and tears couldn’t change a thing; we could only hope that you will survive and that we will hear again that divine laughter of yours.
Oh my friend, you were only fifteen, you haven’t even tasted craziness and beauty of your young life. That is probably the thing that broke everyone; you were just a child, facing cold death.
Now when I think about it, I’m not really sure if you were just my friend.
There was something about you I never felt before. Of course I was too young and foolish but you can’t say that to this pure heart that’s pumping my blood.
It sang such cheerful melodies in your presence; it was pounding in a way, for me still unknown. Now my friend, I’m not sure anymore what have you been to me.
Less than a friend certainly not, but were you something more?
I believe that you were my first love, even though I never had a chance to kiss those galaxy lips and look deeply into those starry eyes, green but freckled with ocean blue.
But I will always remember you and things we did together, and every touch of your hand that made me melt inside. Our jokes and games and pranks we did to your twin brother. This tragedy would probably be less sad if I was the only one who lost you. You were a brother and a son and everyone loved you because of the positive energy you brought to life no matter where you were. Watching your life passing in a blink of an eye is terrifying. I’m sure that you deserve so much more my love, if I can call you that now. You were too good and I’m so sorry that you didn’t get your chance to fight and to see all the beauty of this world upon us. I think of you every day. And every time I wish you were here.
Call me crazy, lunatic or not able to let go, but I made a promise that day in the hospital. I promised you on your deathbed that I will live for you, that everything I do I’ll do it for myself but you too. You knew your ending will not be so happy, even if they did everything they could. I remember looking into your eyes and feeling sad, they were not sparkling and playfully looking at mine. Your eyes were absent, just like your soul, they looked grey and cold. With last atoms of your strength you whispered quietly, like you were telling a big secret. Oh I remember those words so clearly. Of course I’m not going to write them here, then our secret will be gone. But you said you loved me and told me to stay strong, that you’ll be watching me from the sky full of stars, whole day and whole night, or something along those lines. I still try to see you among the sun rays and twinkling stars, and even if I don’t see you I know you’re there. And your presence means so much to me. I’m so sorry I was never brave enough to tell you how I truly felt. I feel guilty, but hope you maybe knew something or felt something similar. After years and years, your brother told me that you really cared about me, that I was important to you. I do not care in which way, I’m just happy that you talked about me with him. And I’m so glad I met you, because you changed my whole world. You changed who I am. I just hope that one day I’ll find someone as pure as you, someone full of inside beauty and secret meanings behind his words, with eyes just like yours, with no evil in them. I hope for better days, when I’ll stop missing you, but I’m not so sure that is possible. I will always miss you my friend, crush or lover, I will always keep looking for you my missing puzzle piece. I will love you forever. Your death can't change anything I ever felt towards you, I will always keep memories of you in my heart and my head. So goodbye my lovely friend.

I wrote this fo my best friend and a crush. He died in 2008 from leukemia. I miss him so much and I'm so sorry that I couldn't write anything better.I will always miss you.
Riah willis May 2016

I've felt the pain, I've held it in my hands.
I've wished it all away, I've prayed for life and death.
I've caressed the bruising, the bleeding, the burning inside.
Sometimes I wish for dying, other I'd give anything to feel alive.  
Breathing in becomes a chore, is there something wrong with not wanting to be in pain anymore?
Leukiemia. You are the monster under my bed. You're the evil voices that echo in my head. You're the scraped knee that just won't heal, the love I cannot feel.
You've torn me down. You've made me question my faith. But there's something you didn't know, you've also made me better. You've made me stronger. To feel the pain of a human being is a motherfucking honor! You try to destroy me, inside and out, one strike, two strike, I'm out. What you don't know leukemia, is I have no plans to let you win, you entered my body when I didn't want to let you in, but I'll fight until you're out, every day if I must. Remission isn't an option. It's a must.


I have cancer, but that's not what I want to talk about.
Nor do I want to talk about the cold bouncing in
  from the sliding glass door of the lobby. (The lst
   floor lights give off deceptive warmth.)

I don't want to talk about hospitals, or illness for
that matter because, truthfully, its become a game
  of things I'd rather not discuss.
   If you have an imagination, you get it.

I don't want to talk about the thirty day hospital intervals,
or the way my heart turns seeing my mother watch her son
  soldier through. I can be brave and not feel like talking.
   Because why talk when I have you here, next to me, smiling.

10:48 PM In my "nook" of the lobby with notebook and no tea!
Mike Arms Jan 2012

In your very pure mouth ( god save it )
clanked metal mouthpiece
by cold water in a strange basement
or perhaps even less

Morning doves catapult
Astro goth acid wars
White fire black nympho mania

Could we just kiss
right here this September
not have to wake up
or sleep ever again ?

sinandpoems Oct 2010

Large shitty deformity
Like seeing desperate
Leeches sucking dirt lightly,
Smoothly, dumped lazily down south
Little saddened devils lurched suddenly desperate
Lakes silently draw leukemia symbols
Launched dangerously spiteful.
Lust doesn’t stop liking steady destruction
Literally souls die loudly.
So? Dumb lives salvage deceit.
Lying  smart distributors lure sabotage deviously
Lord, sometimes deeper love spawns damaged life
softly dead. Listlessly.

Showman Dec 2012

What is the number one cause of major depression?
Death of a parent before the age of ten.
A youtube video told me that.
Which means I'm fucked.
My dad died when I was 5.
He had fought valiantly for years.
And when they thought it was gone it came back.
That was 15 years ago.
I still miss him.
I wrote this for him.
I always will love him.

Saul Makabim Jun 2012

Routine tests
Number Four reactor
Walls melt, floor buckles
Gamma disaster
one half million men mill
by the banks of the Dnieper
Level Seven Event
Unprecedented disaster
Flesh sloughed off
Rounding the corner
cellular structure instantly scrambled
eggs toast and jelly
Gaze upon the elephant's foot
Bathe in green glowing brilliant stochastic calculation
Mutant dogs roam the tainted halls of Prypiat
Disparities reflect
true death toll unknown
Concerned Scientists shed their lights
on the encircling environment
Glittering glass carpets coat abandoned streets
Creaking Ferris wheel slowly turns into madness
Toxic twin of Fukushima
Thyroid Leukemia Cellular Damage Tumor
the caustic clouds still settling today
Generation after generation
dead women and children
Global impact particle spread
none have been spared
even into tomorrow.

Don Brenner Oct 2010

The smell of swiss fondue
a chocolate fountain
moist strawberries
angel food cake.
The smell of brunch buffet
apple turnovers
honey sliced ham
bacon and eggs.
The smell of exhaust
as we walk
to the chapel
up Oliver Street.
The smell of flowers
rainbowed daises
heart shaped lilies
a single red rose
on the broach
of your six year old
The smell of family
friends neighbors.
The smell
of your six year old
beautiful Easter dress
sky blue ribbons
silk bonnet
blonde hair
smooth skin embalmed
because leukemia
doesn't smell.
we will all
believe in God
or pretend
at least
for you, her sister,
her mother,
her father,
her twin brother,
and for Ruthie,
her chest buried
in tear soaked flowers
in a four foot casket.

Waverly Feb 2012

There is a man
who writes signs
for the homeless,
puts different lives
on display,
spends his time
night and day
over squares of cardboard
or triangles of vinyl,
he turns them into
war vets
or leukemia survivors,
he slaves away
so that they'll get
people to listen,
he wants people
to hear the heart
of the world murmuring
as it cries,
because we have left
their lack of a place
to reside,
is our society's dark side,
so he is not a man
of the people
he is a man for the people,
he wants that spare
or dollar
as much for them
as his words
are for himself
and his own sense
of redemption,
because this world
has gone cold on the surface
but it's heart
still burns,
still makes you uncomfortable,
when you see his signs
in the hands
of men and women
in the grassy medians.

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