"sarcoma" poems
Melting Sarcoma
Cell Division
Warfare Conjugates a mission
And dares the fates to corrugate
Hurricanes of plated windows reflect as they shatter, their torment, drunken stupor invoked by habit.
They congregate as ashes, winnowing.
Feb 4, 2013
Feb 4, 2013 at 7:23 PM UTC
I loved the physical pain,
The touch of the gun putting detail on my skin.
A meaning for my family,
Family is my everything.
The Tree Of Life.
That is my tattoo.
I Smiled ear to ear seeing the finished master piece.
Others might say "why do you have a tree"?
They don't understand the significance of my tattoo.
It's for my aunt Kristie who past away,
From the nasty cancer disease.
Sarcoma was the name.
A tragic thing.
tooken away to soon, for she has six amazing kids.
They feel lost without her,
I feel their pain.
I could never regret my first tattoo.
Aug 8, 2014
Aug 8, 2014 at 1:03 PM UTC
I hate to admit it but,
Maybe his time has come
Maybe he's meant to go
Three weeks of hanging on
He has no reason to
His love has gone
His mother is waiting
His best friend is there
Everyone he's lost along the way,
Waiting with open arms
Oliver
Abby
Evelyn
Joseph
Quinn
Ally
Catherine
And those are just a few
His family is there
He's lost everything
But himself
A short poem for Andy. Who was moved back to his home town for his last few weeks. Andy has been battling a cancer called soft tissue sarcoma. This has been a two year battle. It's closer to stage five than four now and he's been given three weeks to live. To say goodbye, to try and get better. Help me out and repost this to give him a reason to fight. Write your own poems and show him there's a reason to stay #ThisIsForAndy and #ANewReligion ~Thanks~
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 12:33 PM UTC
You just left.
After 17 years.
Laying on your brand new bed
That we had some stranger make for you.
As if that somehow made up for it.
You wanted to surf,
God, I wish you could’ve…
Two parts sarcoma,
But you were still our Ali.
Laying in your Led Zeppelin T-shirt,
That you wore more than you should’ve.
And even then you made me laugh
I don’t know how the hell you did that.
Somehow you made it okay
Until the morphine said goodbye.
Dec 13, 2013
Dec 13, 2013 at 9:01 PM UTC
The metro station caged the slumbering metropolis
From this dingy mid-March town fridged in January wind
A ******** clad explorer marches in mellow strides
All the way to you
To back the lover's whisper spoken by static selfies
With fleshy whiffs, a borrowed jacket and a gawky face
Blind to but maybe fiddly pepples on the ground.
Down at a backstreet diner, its locked out doorstep,
A hygge cover made for two,
Humming low is the city's nocturnal remains' dubstep
Coming from an illuminating exit,
Luring the busy hands and buckled excitement, whereto ----
Whereto the vacant main street glides them
With the at ease traffic,
Down loops of everextending branches
I followed you
To the roundabout between
two surrounding glassware towers
Where gleaming sparks ***** on each other's windows
Divining themselves by lighting up pavements, entrance signs
and glooming heavens.
Corridors, lawned with clutters from refurbishments,
Lead to glassrooms of suspended business meetings,
And that cozy cavern,
Where you flump into a swivel chair.
Your inhibited expression unwinds
As my curious caress explores
The damp torso slumping deeper into the pliable seat.
And a devoted twitch of ecstasy, blossom unexpectedly
On your face,
Which already shied itself away from its audience,
Doubtlessly, for way too many times ----
A candid sight I could only cache from you,
Because I intend to see it again, your effortless reaction.
The sarcoma-like lump left uncut at the bottom,
Wrinkled like wind waves in a Ukiyo-e drawing.
I scoop the saline ripple, so you can taste it beforehand.
Our bodies started gravitating
onto each other or all over the place.
And lips, they startlingly perched,
out of wills, like magnets
For the very first time.
I've been feeling patient.
And I love taking my time with you
Nov 29, 2018
Nov 29, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
Stop hating on the President
Who said exactly what he meant
It seems the haters won’t relent
Until he’s bowed or bent
But terror under any name
Is terror just the same
What’s the point in trying to defame
Another’s religion, one you don’t claim
Aren’t you tired of their antics
Accusing him of mere pedantics
Listen to them they sound frantic
Because they’re engaged in pure semantics
Once you know it’s a misnomer
To make Islam terror’s sarcoma
The tactic stinks smell the aroma
It’s time we waken from our coma
Let me proceed by being lenient
Blaming Islam may be convenient
For politicians who often mean it
They don’t even attempt to clean it
But Islam is the antithesis
Of terror where there’s a dissonance
Though some might claim it’s the impetus
I disagree with that synthesis
Terror carried out in Islam’s name
Is not Islam as might be claimed
So there’s no need for us to defame
A world religion that is getting framed
For the actions of a select few
When others have done what these miscreants do
But their religion was no clue
Because terror isn’t nothing new
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2015. All rights reserved.
Dec 4, 2015
Dec 4, 2015 at 7:27 AM UTC