"leukocytes" poems
The blood spilling from my torso
Is composed of many things
Maybe not leukocytes, erythrocytes,
Fibrinogen, or plasma
but
Fear
for the future
Regret
for what might have been
Sadness
for dear friends in pain
Pride
in a long journey and hard work
But if I am shot again tomorrow
What will it be made of then?
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 3:23 AM UTC
*the Leukocytes, white blood cells, mass for attack,
shock and awe is the plan,
find, incinerate the
splinter inside me
but when at the GPS coordinates inside the heart’s marrow,
all is quiet functioning and no contamination source uncovered
the alert false, the Hawaii of my body is still standing
wrong
the absence of love is an invisible infection that can be
heard (groaning), tasted (raw horseradish),
touched (wet cheeks), smelled (perfumed hope in secret spots)
but cannot be seen and therefore, thereof, destroyed,
so toxic, it can eradicate the fleshy soul, and no
phoenix resurrection possible for you cannot erase
what never was
or can you?
the splinter of losing hope is so real it is unreal
except only you know where it’s hid,
and the false alarms are your revelatory reminders,
you need*
to believe in onlylovepoetry
Jan 13, 2018
Jan 13, 2018 at 2:24 PM UTC
#
*In the midnight hour
there are thoughts.. fears..
But mostly there is a consolidation
a gathering, if you will
Within warm, pulsing plasma
flows erythrocytes
leukocytes
and thrombocytes
Bringing nourishment to my bones
carrying oxygen from my lungs
giving swell to muscle
Signifying movement in me
When you write
there is an Undoing
within my undoing
A building up
as I am being fully torn down.
There is an entropy when sitting down
Undone, by your wondrous Undoing
An Aliveness felt
When so little around me,
feels even remotely alive*
#
Jan 4, 2025
Jan 4, 2025 at 6:41 PM UTC
Take a sip / let’s say bitter acknowledges the roots of my tongue / stepping over my taste buds / tingling over milky sweet dirt / flushed adrenaline like water and soiled hands // let's say milk mixes with my apple-strided heart / fill in the VSD and soften the calluses / can an apple regrow? A fruit is it not? / fragilely mush, reverting rot // let’s say it cradles the blood in my veins / melting my celiac-bound leukocytes / none fonder for the umber / and I will cry / rid me caffeinated tears / with no other pool of puddle. / this bitter. hugs me afloat
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 9:17 PM UTC
the cause & the cure,
co-conspirators at war,
my body and mind their battlefield,
the barren bombs of depression lobbed
indiscriminately and carrying the leukemia cells
of a surrendering mind who can see no hope of peace
the neurons spread the word of defeat imminent,
the leukocytes gather for one last anti-hero stand,
the troubles, the ones seen and foreseen, should be
labeled explicit and dangerous, airborne transmitted,
so do not touch the letters of this lament from hell sent
too many mouths to feed, my shoulders sloped
from prior decades undoing; the nine lives,
the held back reserves, expended for no gain
the weary remnant deep marrow hide
but it's hopeless for the man
who was pushed aside
by technology and the destruction
of human touch,
even the body
removed by machine
Apr 16, 2017
Apr 16, 2017 at 12:38 PM UTC
mottled bookmarks pin
tiny fragments of mine.
pages unfold from within
and resist to curve behind the time.
grimaces fade into memoirs.
suit coats on petit bourgeois
wink at my shredding guard vest of tin.
to wipe off those band-aids,
to slim my baggage sutcase,
to bury the laundry in silk waters is to see
it's lifting aloft no casting aground
so I murmur aloud shunning the clout.
a biting leech tot under battings of the brick.
me overlooking my hot spice of a boy
is cringy to mimic a sickening coy.
seems like I'm a worm and blood I eat and drink
to transmiss leukocytes all over the globe
when my maw is stuffed and my bulge bobes.
two sides of me rubbed along are two poles.
I bite far and I link two organisms
meds' substitution with itchy feelers
and a deep chested sweetheart, him I fret.
when to run my slabber in his blood
is to dehydrate and self-slenderize me?
awe-eyed lover man slim'd my tube in size.
me be loved for a healer then be dumped
but it's in my cytoplasm and in my blood
to bottom the gutters as if by dirt under the fingernails.
a biting thot inside the bloodsucker ***
seen by people as a nocuous germ.
they may wash their hands with a laundry soap
everybody is no island, I unrobe my cloth.
to cut sheets from life diaries isn't tougher any more.
© 4 days ago, Anton nature • humor • personal • societ
Aug 22, 2019
Aug 22, 2019 at 6:12 PM UTC
lub dub lub dub
fist clenched in my chest
nerves and nodes grasping the strings
my pacemaker running rampant
lub dub lub dub
each chamber beats and pounds
pressure rising ever higher
millimeters of mercury mounting
lub dub lub dub
my vena cava caving in
my pulmonaries passing out
tight and taut now limp and languid
lub dub lub dub
my atriums crumpling
my ventricles moldering
its contents come spilling
liquid straw spouting
a serum suspending
red discs running
gasping for something
then slowing and clotting
my leukocytes leaking
my platelets melting
blue blood is boiling
crying for something
then breaking and rotting
my strings are snipped
cutting off the circulation
a cardiac collapse
i wanted love to make my heart beat
not bring my arteries pain
i wanted you to make my system complete
but alas it was all in vein
Feb 7, 2020
Feb 7, 2020 at 7:28 PM UTC