When you were sick
you didn’t like doing the stuff
you used to do.
Our children grated on your nerves
and you needed to be away
from them regularly.
You also pushed me away a lot.
You snapped at me, others,
even yourself.
You focused mostly on what was wrong in our lives.
And there were days where you
just had to stay in bed.
Your body hurt constantly.
The disease appeared to take over
your soul,
but there were moments where
your soul sprung up
in defiance and joy.
I sat quietly, meditative in those times,
sometimes smiled gently,
but inside I rejoiced.
I would go into another room
and cry golden tears of happiness
and tell some unknown entity; thank you.
I prayed a lot for you to be healed
and I am not much of a prayer.
But at some point I had to ask myself;
could I still love you
if you never got better.
And the answer surprised me
and brought me
new understanding of myself.
The answer was; yes, I could.
I was now loving you
in ways I’d never been able to love
anyone else, even myself.
I am now loving myself and others
more than I ever could before.
I am grateful for you.
Tag: cancer
The Greens Of Prolmama
that place by the sunglasses store on Sunset Blvd
has helped a lot of cancer survivors get that way
You’ve been that way with your teeth
to stop and turn to the mountain
it makes us look that way
the way we look when there’s just too much
Cowboys riding into the future from the past on a spaceship
or an ion generation device
They make nice clothing at least for the persons who want
to look like that
The Greens infuse my chest cavity
so I look up to see Andromeda’s aftermath
and the aftermath is ignored by all the mammals and the reptiles
unless there’s fire
we’re then drawn outward
to a journey that takes a long long time
I could count the plastic in the toy store
or a municipal dump all for an afternoon to remember now
when we kissed as men reading the Bible
Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
They let him go
when he was young and dying of cancer,
drifting through outer-space
they let him go,
the last people’s race of people
didn’t own him,
floating past nationalism and liberty
as cancer an eternalness created
archetypes of the sufferer,
the fear of the shadow,
just the vessel of the genome,
we lift you up to the cluster,
the ridge of stars.
Child without childhood
reaches for your fingers,
the seven wrinkles,
your chance to perceive things
but it ran away with the forms and
words of humanness,
just the vessel of the genome,
information is transferable
in
this
standing in a field before a 7-11®,
a parent kisses their child at college
in Kansas.
They got to go to college,
wave, wave . . . waves
but wave to the abilities of Einstein,
those crackling transmissions of the
Pentecost,
those crackling wavebands of gray.
Jesus saves.
Computers save.
We’ll throw some burgers
on the grill That’s what
large scale manufacturing
affords us on this Friday
evening for us Throwing
pattied piles of ground up cows
to celebrate Our kids swimming
’round the pool with chlorine
and bovine fecal matter
floating ’round their blood
for later permutations of
congressmen To refrain their
handiwork with the agriculture
companies We are the normal
people We are the normal
people We feed our children
what business people and
government officials attain
in their singular way of $ucce$$
and configure We worship
the Beast
– Poetry by W.T. tuqMairtin
novamartinpoetry.com 