"mesothelioma" poems
mining ceased overnight
boom days were no more
the conveyor belt stands idle
buildings in disrepair
infrastructure rusting away
asbestos remnants
piled high
the landscape
irreversibly scarred forever
the town who relied
so much on the mine
slowly ebbed in vitality
one by one
the business houses
were closed
houses where the pit workers lived
vacated for good
the company saw lean times
its ore seen to be hazardous
health concerns
were raised by the medical fraternity
the carpet was pulled
from under the company's feet
its share value
fell hard
it then folded up
in an ex-mining town
a legacy remains
a gigantic gaping hole
poorly in need of remediation
for miles around the mine's site
the asbestos filaments
float on the air
and are carried well beyond
by the wind
miner's who ingested
the asbestos
into their lungs
suffer diseases like Mesothelioma
and other forms of cancers
the town's prosperity
whittled away
the people
have no industry
to keep them sustained
into the dust
the boom turned overnight
mining towns
know well this plight
Epilogue
we hear of a resource
being harvested from the earth
yet where the mineral is mined
there is the potential for a dearth
the slogan of mining towns
is that of boom or bust
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 7:11 AM UTC
A circle is round.
It has no ends.
Thats how long I've been living with Mesothelioma.
Jun 28, 2015
Jun 28, 2015 at 6:43 PM UTC
Oppenheimer knelt before death as the destroyer of worlds.
As only Ozymandius stood previously.
He was anointed, and found guilty
The curse to challenge and defy Death's wisdom and mercy...
To usurp "the bringer"
Required only a more certain demise
Several had met the challenge to arrive on the Black Dais,
But death himself remained triumphant
Asbestos, mesothelioma, lawyers,
Each took their place but never challenged Perdition directly
Until one so overtook him
Hell shook Oppenheimer from it's shoulders
The place itself defying it's judges.
Discarding death with him
Oppenheimer - prime acolyte of the light
Who could best even death at being the inevitable and unenviable end
Except life and light herself
Vitae stood guilty in her own judgement
Dismissing the darkness into half-forgotten memory
A shade now unchallenged, an undeniable answer
Her frail form untethered, and expanding into decay.
Vitae cleft her left arm
Forming it into an inkwell
And shaping her right into a quill
She began to write her story again...
"Let there be light"
We must go on
Dec 27, 2023
Dec 27, 2023 at 8:10 PM UTC