Cancer

I

Hate

Cancer.

Its hand creep and crawl

like warped vines.

Its touch tarnishes and taints

like nails on a chalkboard.

Vile like stomach bile,

Its hold on another one

of those I love.

Is there anything

it won’t take?

Cancer’s game is destruction.

Barbed wire around organs

constricted and stabbed

for working.

Lungs riddled with it.

Every breath a growing burn.

I yearn to ease his pain

and pray peace

finds him in sleep.

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Love Is

Love is boundless.

It warms all hearts

Despite size

Despite colour

Despite gender.

 

Love is infectious.

It makes its home

Despite health

Despite religion

Despite career.

 

Love is triumphant.

It sounds its horn

Despite trauma

Despite insecurity

Despite hate.

 

Love is a cure.

Best spread on Hope’s wings

to Everyone

Despite differences.

Despite The Fear And Hate

{Below awaits my attempt at the Quatern style poem. Hope you enjoy!)

 

Stand tall despite the fear and hate

And drop their sharp blades from your hands

Pick up the pen, and write again

Fill the pages with scrolling lines

 

Work with the light of day and night

Stand tall despite the fear and hate

Quiet the doubts swirling inside

Break free the bars that cage your might

 

Your tale needs telling, use your voice

Others will listen, given the choice

Stand tall despite the fear and hate

Use it to fuel your writing craze

 

It is a daunting task you’ve set

One many will never have met

Success awaits the effort, and

Stand tall despite the fear and hate

Drained, Disappointed, But Here

Yesterday was an off day for me. I woke up feeling drained, and with a headache (for the fourth day in a row)! I had an appointment that threw off my day, and the freezing cold we have here right now wouldn’t let me bounce back.

Our house apparently needs new seals or something, because our windows have ice on the inside around the edges, and our back door has it gathering at its base. It might just be the fact that for the past couple days its been -35 degree C, or that our house hates us. (It is a running theme of something new every couple of months creating a new problem).

Yeah, yeah, it’s winter, and I love winter, but it is kicking my ass right now or so it feels. At least I haven’t had to shovel since Monday which has been nice.

Since yesterday was a bad day, I didn’t get any writing done at all. No blog post here or editing of my book. I have another appointment today that wrecks my day, but I’m hoping to get SOMETHING done.

I usually clean my house Fridays, top to bottom and every nook and cranny, but I might wait til Andrew gets home. We’ll do it after errands (fingers crossed), but who knows?

Anyways, yesterday’s word count was zero, and Wednesday’s word count was 1,095. Today, I’m honestly hoping to get a sentence out of myself. I tried to the other day, but nothing was coming to me.

 

Three Parts

I was a child,
Reckless and wild.
Free to create,
Love or hate.
 
I am unknown,
A mystery of my soul.
A part of past,
A mold to be cast.
 
I will be…
Me?
Cracked, but Strong,
Will to carry on.
A writer with ink,
Who refuses to sink.
A wife with a dream,
A hope that gleams.
 
I mean, who knows?
I feed my fires,
Hold on to my wishes,
Cherish my desires.
 
But I don’t know
More than anyone else.
I’ll fight to that future image,
And I will see for myself.