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Literature Text
I have tried raising awareness
and the teenager seated mandatorily
across from me listens with a lisp,
earbuds laced in one ear and out the other.
I want to shout it at his acne-cratered face,
lung cancer kills
but lung cancer is just another illness,
it is just another awareness campaign,
another type of cancer; who gets that anyway?
Don’t be that young man, stoic-issued
and party-stoked; naked-in-his-dreams
and uneventfully clothed during the day.
and the teenager seated mandatorily
across from me listens with a lisp,
earbuds laced in one ear and out the other.
I want to shout it at his acne-cratered face,
lung cancer kills
but lung cancer is just another illness,
it is just another awareness campaign,
another type of cancer; who gets that anyway?
Don’t be that young man, stoic-issued
and party-stoked; naked-in-his-dreams
and uneventfully clothed during the day.
Literature
notesleep
playing my emphases like harp strings
your voice smokes thru the oaken bramble
pour a carbonated apology, a sun-stained
mile marked envelope, two ill-fitted birds,
hands small holes right before a rush of river
what it feels like being swallowed from the outside
crushing rings into truth serum, pretend
to be out of tune with that deception
I have been unable to parse my own persona
a pink cotton voice I remember thru the phone
I remember because it formed me into a granary
one crop after another of patriarchal idioms
whisper my secrets so softly into a glint of red hair
a saucer-eyed lace pattern cut into pine paper
I practice radical self lo
Literature
Apocalypta
Dawn breaks soft,
You are sun glare
in the rearview;
and I, the heavy mist
ahead
on a road that forgets to end.
Literature
Neurological Annihilation
when overload comes, it is the tar
it is a black that coats and annihilates everything clean
it rips off the skin revealing the bloodied tissue beneath
every adipose cell
every muscle fibre
every shred of sanity is vulnerable to cackling callousness and rage
the sound a current which carries all joy and tranquility away
leaving only sorrow, exhaustion and a humble prayer that this end soon
before my limbs, immersed in this cloying dank depression and fever, follow their master - the tar - and cut off their connection to the searing nerve fibres that animate their digits.
one action and it all stops
but that action means there will never be.
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This was originally part of another poem, now an outtake from a performance piece I am working on for LadyLincoln's Lung Cancer Awareness: Finding Your Courage Project. SilverInkblot and I deemed it unfit for the larger poem I am working on, but polished enough to stand on its own. I think all of us understand this poem to some degree, when we try to raise awareness for something dear to our hearts and we are met with either ignorance or are ignored. Me and SelahDeNoctiluca and several others can relate.
Hope you like and appreciate.
Hope you like and appreciate.
Comments13
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I was that young man, long ago. Now I'm facing chemo and a fight to remain on this planet a bit longer. I hope this piece reaches someone. (Excellent writing, btw.)