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laura Mar 2018
feeling kind of fruity
touch your skin up and down
kind of silly funny
breathing waving fanning
panting pajamas on the floor
*** and then talking about pokemon
and programming all at the same time
what a helluva time to keep the tumor
of existence lowkey

scooping blood instead of depression
out of my heart whenever i check
why im feeling so giddy
Dogfood Williams Feb 2014
i’m not even
gonna throw that box
away gonna chew it
like a little fat hamster
and moan about the
black tumor inside it
stained my hands from
peeling and tearing away
to get at that little horse
touch it to my busted up
bitten lip pretend it’s
yours on mine
Knit Personality Sep 2016
The day is dismal,
Dark, and abysmal.
With all the humor
Of a brain tumor,
It laughs until it cries,
And lives until it dies.

O.O
ali xoxo Nov 2014
life is tame
and i revel in
the mysteries and treasures
of being a sad girl
riddled with the same pain and psychological tendencies
you are a crack in the wind
a tumor in the back of my skull
cherry red on the other end of this cigarette
feeding me pseudo-sorrows and cancer so sweet
Tyler Harper Feb 14
Where's the line?
The line between joke and reality.

For are these jokes,
these mindless taunts

benign or malignant?
A tumor of insecurity

Ever growing

But where ever this line may be
I see frailty

Crooked
Cracked
Caved

And there I could stand
With joke in hand:
Wherever would it land?
Graff1980 Sep 2018
What do we learn
when the knowledge
is turned
to scraps and ashes?

When the past is
less than prologue
cause everyone
was encouraged
to forget all
but the bright
moment,

pleasures pursued,
seconds wasted
being used
as a consumer,
as another tumor
so ingrown
that it can’t be removed.

Rush, play,
point, click,
sleep, eat,
work your life away,

and if you are unhappy
or to tired to do your job
if you feel
slightly unwell,
well we got a pill
to push all that
anxiety
away from humanity.

Until, the still pond
no longer reflects
the wonder and awe
of the artists
we once were.
Janelle Tanguin Feb 2017
Before everything

i. I never knew four letters could melt
menthol candy-like, hydrochloric acid on my tongue
and keep burning it in different degrees
I had to swallow back.

ii. That there would come a time
I'd have to baptize the pain in my chest like seasons
robbing me lungfuls
on January, September and December nights.

iii. That my blood was really ink I needed to stop using
before my skin turned paper-like.

iv. That my heart had an epicenter pumping a magnitude of earthquakes
that made me tremble helplessly in its intensity;
and that they were man-made calamities
followed by harsh, heavy, whipping tsunamis
to flood my grave of bleeding, jagged fault lines.

v. That aftereffects lasted longer than treatment itself,
and that I didn't need any professional diagnosis to know
I was terminal
from the same drug that made butterfly-strokes in my veins,
whose arms withheld the only elixir to this malady.

vi. I named my sickness, my pain, my agony like orphaned children, after you--
a rare disease
the doctors didn't even know about yet.

vii. I did and I doubted
but a part of me beat signals
that echoed off the cave walls of my skull
that I knew.

viii. Before everything,
I have been warned
but I chose to listen to the soothing, wrong, hopeful voices
"He means no harm,".

ix. You began spreading like an epidemic-- a tumor to a colony of cells all over me-- until I became you;
a reflection of familiar suffering and mortality, slowly withering away.
In the end, I didn't even have you to blame
for letting me overdose from intakes
of my own ****, bitter medicine and unforgivable mistakes.

x. I guess, this was how you wanted the price to be paid.
xavier thomas Aug 2018
Where do I even begin......I can start off with a prayer.
Lord thank you for your mercy, your grace, your love, & each beautiful race.
Thank you for the opportunity and the message
Thank you for the Angels and blessing

“when are we gonna meet,
why did this happen, am I missing what you’re showing me, how can I handle this situation I don’t know nothing about, is this a life lesson, Am I able to make it too heaven , does the Bible answer all my questions, who’s my future fiancé?”

I ask a lot of questions when I don’t understand your work
Don’t take it the wrong way Father, I’m admiring your worth
Constantly stay in prayer for you as the Devil lurks
The temptation is real , one slip up & you’re hurt
Two battles will collide soon , heaven vs hell , Who has the strongest turf?
The rapture is coming, so it’s almost time to Rehearse

Thinking before & after I choose my decisions
Never a broken being in prison, to focus on the mission
Now that I’m older, I’m driven to become a better Christian
Forgive me Father I need you to listen, each day I’m receiving better wisdom

Childhood days: My uncle tried to convince his nephews that We’re better without a woman
Sharing his knowledge due to his mistakes, half of us bought it....
Mom always told us not to pay attention cause he was fallin
Family is a trip, pray to jesus for his soul, that’s my callin....

2016-My last relationship, she wanted to be in love
Seemed very simple & easy + she was my personal angel from above.
Things were going good with very high promise that a man can dream of
Til the baggage & trust issues came out of her, my spirit told me to “Wake up”.
Beginning & ending of Arguments , fights, along with giving up
I continue to live, yet feeling like I’m the one that messed up.
Greed became a major goal of hers vs just us
But She wanted more & more from me cause it wasn’t enough.
Time pass & Two-Separate paths showed after the break up
I left it alone cause it was too much to overcome.
Both Gemini with almost similar personalities, but listen up
Til this day, I sometimes hold her in my heart as my own beloved.

Nowadays, people talk like they know somethin
Think they know their worth, but they don’t know nothin
Calling each other “The God”, and that’s how they feel
Trying to get a piece of shine, social media, that’s not a meal
This generation wanna have fun, that’s a fun fact
Getting turnt up, but never pays attention to the impact
Or how it may affect their lives for the future
This new wave is strong like a Brain tumor

More then ever it’s time to get myself together
Im ready to start a family, yet I know I have a few more “stay single” moments with whomever
Don’t judge me cause I’m living life to my fullest experience this semester
It’s an adventure that we all go through, won’t last forever

So Every morning I beg God for his mercy.
As he challenge my intelligence on this new journey.
Cause my own mind gets me in trouble, try not to worry.
I’m 24 now & before you know it I’ll be 30.
This poem is for everyone & how many questions we ask ourselves + God while growing up. I hope you like this poem. Sorry if it’s long lol
Robert Ronnow Aug 2015
You can feel it spinning
                                         fast
the Chinese, Japanese, American and European junk
orbiting at several thousand miles per hour could
                                                           ­                             punch
a hole in your armor, future. Thanksgiving passes, then Christmas.
A nuclear detonation, we absorb that fact. The scientist in us
delays sadness by recording observations. What is is,
sorrow's for tomorrow.

By reducing probabilities to near zero I hope to avoid sorrow.
In yr suburb.
In history when there were many fewer people we still found reason
to cross space, explore, trade and war. Now
                                                             ­                 overpopulation
may not be the problem but food and water shortages
get our attention.
                              I have Korf's fears.
And hear what I want to hear.

Some hear singing, some hear speeches or complaining.
Martin Luther King sang his complaints, dreamed of a brotherly nation
which came to pass, spinning fast, past Thanksgivings, past jailings
into reconnaissance, small wars, drones, renaissance, inventions.
At the border,
                         where the Juaristas fought Maximilian:
Benito Juarez (1806-1872) Zapotec Amerindian who served five terms as president of Mexico. He was the first Mexican leader who did not have a military background and also the first full-blooded indigenous person to lead a country in the western hemisphere in over 300 years. For resisting French occupation, overthrowing the Empire, and restoring the Republic, Juarez is regarded as Mexicoxs greatest and most beloved leader. 

Each soldier chooses what war at what border, or just
                                                            ­                                   shows up
spinning with the planet.
The neighborhood and surrounding nature is orderly.
But always there is implied force, violence holding it together,
                                                       ­                                                       chaos
is contained
kept out of the playground, government buildings, childrenxs games
but lies within
the force maintaining order, a spinning tumor, a gyroscope of
                                                              ­                                                inertia.
The force of the spinning, the speed of the force bring one to one's
      death
seasons, weather, earth.
                                         While the emperor's being beheaded
enduring seeds are discovered and invented, cross-fertilized and bred.
Corn, yams, potatoes, sunflowers, rice.
                                                           ­       Food is life and a good study,
useful discipline
                           daily meditation.
                                                     ­   The fighting man protects the farmer
and the farmer feeds the fighting man.
They elect the governor
                                        who serves the people. Peace out.

Peace and war are transitory manifestations of spinning
electrons, planets.
                               The sun's a nuclear detonation, essential
to spring and planting. Food is life. Seeds endure
if man goes to his daily discipline. If woman is man.
Birth and death
                           together are orderly, the border can be known,
voluntarily. How we live together, by prayer or force,
is our story.

Knowledge
from laboratory to starry corridor keeps us very
                                                            ­                         versed.
Did Juaristas consider the rights of animals not to be eaten?
Not during that spinning.
                                              And perform the history that surrounds us.
All that can be done
is written in the spinning:
"The people of the land, the Indian farmers of North America - like their counterparts in Mesoamerica, the Andean region, and the Amazon - have continuously cultivated maize, beans, squash and other crops for more than five thousand years. One of the salient features of their traditional farming systems is the high degree of biodiversity. These traditional farming systems have emerged over centuries of cultural and biological evolution, and they represent the accumulated experience of indigenous farmers interacting with the environment without access to external inputs, capital or scientific knowledge. In Latin America alone, more than 2.5 million hectares under traditional agriculture in the form of raised fields, polycultures, agroforestry systems and the like document indigenous farmers' successful adaptations to difficult environments."
--Wikipedia,  "Benito Juarez"
-- Altieri , Miguel A., Foreword to Enduring Seeds: Native American Agriculture and Wild Plant Conservation, by Gary Paul Nabhan, The University of Arizona Press, 1989

www.ronnowpoetry.com
Kate Eddy Jan 2018
When I was young so long ago,
Threatened I was; though I didn't know,
My parents feared as to my fate-
Afraid that the doctors would be too late.

And the doctors did all that they could,
For the fear of my parents they understood,
They opened my skull and saw the mass-
Knowing that they had to move fast.

Many at the time thought those efforts to be in vain,
For my life this tumor continued to drain,
But those doctor's efforts weren't destined to be lost-
For God had not let my death be the cost.

To show I understand what it is you're going through,
I've brought this message of encouragement for you,
For Christmas is the time of giving: as God's done-
And I do hope this will bring joy to everyone.
This is not just a story- When I was young I had a brain tumor the size of a grapefruit.....I barely survived.....and now several yrs later I went on December 23 with my church choir to carol for both the doctors and child/ families etc...who were going through the same thing as me or just as bad....children's hospital was like unfortunately a home for me when I was young.....so / those I saw in the hospital I did understand.
Morgan Mercury Oct 2013
I found you in the cracks of winter between puffing breaths of cold air like a dragon, on that cold Wednesday afternoon. I swore your eyes were the ocean, and I could see all the way to Europe. You held your books like a shield guarding your chest and you introduced yourself like a king.

We talked of Bukowski and Frost in between sips of lukewarm water. I fell in love with every pause you took and every time you blinked my heart beat increased. I was surprised you couldn't feel it from across the table.

You showed me the scars on your legs and arms you've gotten over the years. One from jumping off a roof into a pool. One randomly showing up when you woke up that morning. And one from that time you had a tumor removed from your chest. You told me don't feel sorry for you and don't feed you sympathy because you have been full for years.

We spent the next couple of months telling secrets. You told me I was the first person you have ever felt comfortable with in a long time. You kissed me so silently and slowly it was like breathing underwater. Forgive me if I sound selfish but I could not stay under the water any longer and I couldn't hold my breath for another second. I gave all my wishes and stars to you that night. I wrote poetry on your skin that we created when our hands touched.

We explored the mountains and ate picnics every Saturday afternoon. We ran from the rain as we saw the clouds roll in, we sat in the car and played truth or dare for an hour straight. I promised you I will love you until we're old and I'll have to feed you with a spoon until this action isn't anymore romantic but necessary instead.

It was a Tuesday at 2:35 in the morning when you were experiencing pain. I drove you to the hospital.

Our love was like a mother teaching a daughter how to slow dance for the first time; clumsy.
You didn't know how to hold me properly anymore because you were to busy holding medical bills in your hands. When I see these papers my mind loses focus and all those words form one big blur, and they become wet with warm teardrops smudging the news across the white crinkled paper. I turned off the tv that night and we actually looked at each other staring like we were both blank canvases and had painters block for the first time ever. That night you packed a suitcase and went away in a taxi. The hospital wasn't too far away but I couldn't bare to see you walk into that place again.

It was cold and it was Sunday. The doctors tried everything they could but it was already too big and eating you away. Old friends were always bitter when they weren't welcomed back but stormed in like a hurricane destroying everything the future has to hold. Your eyes were colorless and your hands were too fragile to hold anything. My heart was beating out of my chest and my palms were shaking. It felt like I was holding an earthquake.

You were only 21.

You had a warm heart and a beautiful brain. You were drained like rain-soaked up from the earth. I wished I could have taken you places and brought you flowers. But it was always too cold to go somewhere and all the flowers have disappeared away until next spring. For on now I'll just have to bring you back to life through words and hope not to cry. Another love is too far away to see and my vision is blurry but I don't want it to be clear. For I fear that I will once again become too selfish because I can't wait forever for you because death is miles away, and I'm not ready to see that side of my life. But when tomorrow starts without you I guess I'll just go home because, sweetheart, all the dust has disappeared.

Let us praise the time when we flew to Vegas one night because we were board. Praise the moment when we were so full of glee that time we won $20, and how we ignored that fact we lost $600. Praise the day our car broke down on the side of a mountain and so we finally got a chance to talk to each other and confess our problems. Praise that moment we meet on that frosty December. I hope your ghost waltzes at sunset with my shadow. I know it's only been a few years since we meet but for me, it was a lifetime of happiness.  Let it be known you are engraved into my brain and I'll always remember the time I saw you clutching books to your chest and puffing dragon breath.
just rambling
Lana D Apr 2018
You’ve read the words a million times
Seen it from novel to novel
You read about the daughters
And those they love
The ones who got sick
They hope
And hope and hope
then things go bad
And the only one who can still hope are the daughters
I’ve read their words from all across the decades
Sympathized with their pain
With their grief
With their internal struggles
But I never empathized with them
And in the past
I had this thought
In my head like a sticky note adhered to the fridge
Stuck there right next to the grocery list and the kindergarten artwork
It read
I would never be a daughter

Then the words leapt off the pages
Of the hundreds of novels
Inserted themselves into my narrative
Gluing themselves to my skin,
I tried to rip them off myself
But they peeled off my skin with their literary fingers
Taking some of my skin with them as they launched and
Ripped the sticky note off my cerebral refrigerator
I became a daughter

Sometimes I still can’t believe that word is a part of my life now
Cancer
And I understand what these daughters have felt
That it feels wrong that I should be the one feeling hurt
It is those I love that are sick and I am healthy with no physical ailment on me
No tumors or scars under my skin
But I feel as if they are in my heart
There is a tumor there and it won’t be removed
Because how could one ever remove a metaphorical tumor
Why does it hurt?
Is it because of the chemo
Cherishing the Hope that Everyone is Mostly Optimistic
Devoting myself to keeping everyone else in balance
Holding the weight of the world even though I could easily just let it go and crush
Every horrible thing in this life
But it became a part of me when that word entered my life
I can’t make it separate, make it leave, can’t stop being who I was born to be
Someone to hold the weight
Except one
One weight that ain’t no metaphorical tumor

The person I love is sick
The novels have inserted their words into my narrative
I just hope I can revise their endings
And move cancer into the index
The credits
anything
instead of having  the last page read
the end

But, then I see the one I love stand strong
As everyone says this is the end
She won’t pretend that this it
Because it isn’t
She takes the pen into her own hand and erased what the world had written
And writes the end of part one
The end to this chapter in a long happy saga called
life
And she writes to the daughter
I'll see again
when you finish part one
In your wonderful fairy tale book
I gaze into the front only to see the combating fiery back!

I pierce into the back only to see the front confronting me like the teary tumor!

I commandeer the still waters and it runs deep, exposing me into the visceral of the world.

Tell me not that life is made up of material minus the immaterial.

The Spirit breathes the ocean of life alive ahead of matter in realities and reflections!

I raise my hands in applause of the Shadow that devours the midday
sun!
My black dog comes prowling at night
Howling at the bright silver moon
He never gets out of my sight
Bound to come back to me soon.

The night is young and soon will be dead
**** and malignant like a tumor
It reminds me of my good friend
His dark twisted sense of humor.

My eyesight is dim, my head is weak
I only need a kind hand to hold
Right now life is playing hide and seek
Making my illusions simply grow old.

It does not matter what I think or say
I have lost myself in this grey fog
No matter how much I go the other way
It will always lead me to my black dog.
sandra wyllie Aug 29
smells like rotten garbage
and gnaws at you as a rat-infested sewer
has your head dizzy as a brain tumor
enlarging until its pushing out through
when your legs are spread
for some recognition
and your head is nodding in submission
because your lines aren’t getting the attention
so you rope them in with suggestion
and at your age –
that’s **** hard!
but they eat you up
**** your scars
and if that’s what it takes
you’ll do it
you’ll do anything
unknown Dec 2018
depression has grown on me like a good friend, or more like a tumor
it has left its mark and bought its home inside of me
depression takes no vacation, nor sick days
it never calls out for work, never lets another take its shift
so it's permanently clocked in on my body
my heart, my soul, and my brain
it's a hard pill to swallow
it's a hard feeling of love
there's no cure for it
not enough therapy
or pills
or green tea and yoga
can cure it
it's a workaholic CEO and i'm a doomed company
it's a killing parasite and i'm the dying host
so when you say it'll get better
keep your optimistic words to yourself
because i'm a greedy pessimist with my whole life of sadness
all i've ever had was this whole life of sadness
the atmosphere of melancholy has been cradling me for 19 years
maybe i'm not ready to be happy
because i don't know who i am happy
all i've ever known
was just to never know what happy was
it's never been this hard before...
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