Blog Posts by PoetWithCancer

>Sight. I can see the fallen, and the sparse tree-clinging, golden brown leaves.
>I can see the orange and gold light-fretted clouds of another sunset.
>I hope to see the bouquet of beams of many another sunrise.
>I look up at the sky at night; and then the sight of the once-believed eternal stars
>Fills my heart with mystifying questions and moody magic, through my eyes.
>I can see the dew-jeweled web that a life-hungry spider weaves.
>I can wonder at the wonderful wild world the spider simultaneously gilds and scars.
>And in my mind, so many images of things I've seen, I'll never forget.
>A newborn baby opening its eyes on life for the first time.
>The eyes of a friend that look on me with caring love, and with hope or prayer for my cure,
>And with appreciation and understanding of my heart's voiced verses of rhythm and rhyme.
>The deadly dark ink of certain inhumane philosophy texts sprinkled with snare-trap lights that

(a Minute Poem)


The nipping of the air is cool.
Fall leaves soon pool.
Piles, brown and gold,
Warm up the cold.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Like such leaves are memories.
Golden, like these.
My setting sun
Remembers fun.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
My time is cut, but it was full.
Happy thoughts lull.
Memory cloys.
My life-time's joys!

==============================
Written by Michael LP, aka MLP
aka PoetWithCancer, aka PWC, aka (thanks to Luna Marie) Mr. Poet
Written on Wednesday, October 19, 2011 5:42 PM PDT
84 degrees F. Humidity: 12% Forecast: fair
Copyright (C) 2011 by Michael LP. All rights reserved
(I still copyright my writings, for my estate)

I don't know why, but Brian's upcoming birthday--the 15th of September--
Makes me recall all the New Year's Eves we spent together,
As well as his birthday and mine.
Perhaps it is because the New Year is both our birthdays--
In fact, it's everybody's birthday--
A time when every one of us marks another year's passing by--
And cherishes the hope of enjoying a whole new happy new year--
Everybody's birthday. And the candles are not candles on a cake,
But Roman candles, and other fireworks.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
It was in the first year that we met that Brian and I celebrated our first New Year.
On New Year's day, we ate at Heidelberg Cafe, a German cuisine feast.
Brian was so happy then. When he saw a map of Germany on the wall--
A big map, showing among other places the area where he was stationed in the Army--
He got all excited. He jumped up and pointed it out to me, and then bubbled over

It was like a great cake of butter penetrated by a knife.
It was as though the plane were a ghost, and simply flew right in.
For a long moment, no sign of physical reality; no apparent wound.
Nothing to indicate the sudden snuffing out of human life.
Nothing to mark this strange vision as a horrid bloody sin.
Yet not with bleeding--for even the blood swiftly swooned,
And fell into vapor, and vanished into night.
The image shocked me even before my mind could figure out
Exactly what it was that I had witnessed on my TV.
I did not need the many replays of that terrible sight
To recall exactly the images. Even now, inside, I shout:
No, no, no! This kind of horror cannot truly be!
But all kinds of horrors truly are,
Though many of us, and others most of the time, are spared.
My mind and brain, so filled with facts and images and memories,
My very soul, likewise flickers inconstantly, under a constant star.

Everybody has to die someday, some way.
I've known that since my great grandma died,
When I was three.
Three years is such a tiny piece of eternity.
But I was precocious: In some ways, even a prodigy.
And I began to read about death.
Theories and speculations; and sure and certain assertions,
Of a great multiplicity of contrary views and beliefs.
Not any address well the mystery of our sufferings and griefs.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Even as a child, I was chilled
To think I would someday be buried.
The alternative--to be burned to charred bone bits and ashes--
I had not learned of as an option--not yet.
That's even scarier for me. Burning in a fire, like getting cancer,
Is one of my most terrifying phobias.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
And years go by, one by one.
They become the last little topmost sliver
Of Deep Time, that swallowed dinosaurs; Deep

Is there anything out there, near or far, that cares about our lives?
That might care about my life? That truly cared about Brian's life?
So many of us believe there is. Brian believed. He had great faith.
How could he have suffered so? He loved God and prayed believing.
He told me once he thought God had a special destiny for him,
To do good things in God's honor. Was Brian self-deceiving?
I did not see a loving hand shielding Brain.
I do not feel a loving hand shielding me.
I'm going nowhere with this poem, I know. Just random scraps
Of thoughts and feelings, while pain embraces me
Where once God's love with caring blessings seemed to embrace.
Pain, and
The misery of mishaps
Have taken their place.

==============================
Written by Michael LP, aka MLP
Written on Saturday, July 23, 2011
Copyright (C) Michael LP. All rights reserved

Brian's oncologist gave us a list of the things that would be done.
Different lines of chemo, for as long as Brian wanted.
But then he leaned into Brian's face and said something that terribly haunted:
"BUT--the cancer--WILL---WIN."
Brian was so shook up. He didn't show it in the office, being numb.
He just smiled and smiled, while his heart went wild.
Outside in the car, I had to hold and rock him, and comfort him, and say:
"The doctor shouldn't have said that. And doctors are not always right, anyway."
From then on, Brian and I inverted that, and made it a saying for both of us:
"This is another day that the cancer didn't win."
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Sure Brian was scared. But so was I.
After I got cancer, I lost some of my strength.
Sometimes it was I who needed support and comforting.
I don't want it to sound like Brian was always the one in need.
Neither one of us was having an

Brian told me it was the best birthday party,
And the happiest birthday, that he had ever had.
I was happy for him. I was so glad.
Wednesday, September 15th, 2010, was Brian's last birthday.
So many friends of his and mine were there that night.
It was a karaoke birthday party,
And Brian sang all his signature songs:
"Aubrey" by Bread--and he sang it better than they did.
"I Love" by Tom T. Hall.
Brian sang it truly well.
Those were the two songs he sang best, true to the tune,
With haunting beauty of his vocalizing lyrics to the music.
Brian had a ball.
He wore a cone-shaped party hat--parti-colored, and with a few stars
That seemed to say there is a heaven above us all.
And power and greatness and majesty. Brian always thanked the Lord.
Party favors and decorations were strewn all about.
There was singing and even dancing and conviviality.
Midway through the night, the birthday cake was