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Beautiful
THE GIFT OF A CANCER SCARE
when your cancer antigen levels are elevated you’re playing a waiting game know it or not you choose a strategy you can be the pawn or you can be the queen you can be on the defensive or take an offensive full-board-press approach truth is the future’s unknown anyway a cancer scare is just all-up-in-your-face with it this living in limbo though it’s not a game i want to play everyday knowing something may be growing may be intruding may be stealing my personal space but it’s surprisingly not grim not without its upsides the not knowing makes everything sharper more focused, clearer (though i still need my readers) each moment lasts a little longer exacts more of my attention feels fuller, sweeter a sip of ice cold water on my lips, on my tongue, rushing down my throat is much more ahhhhh! the sparkle in my husband’s bright eyes when i curl up next to him says i love you louder than all of the words the anger in my daughter’s body as she stomps up the stairs crying leaves me more loving the noise my son makes when he bangs around dancing, drumming, dunking finds me more joy-filled the twinkle of the christmas tree its smell the winter blanket of grey skies the dark of december nights it’s all better when the possibility that it’s the last time ever is present it may just be a cyst a fibroid a “benign” tumor–the friendly kind that means no harm that’s where i’m putting my money still though the possibility of illness and treatment the perhaps-proximity of death the cost of existing in a body is pushed to the fore demanding consideration even still, while the pulsing of life beats inside me i embrace it all with yes! grateful for every bit of it i lean in in this game i will take on king fear i will come out winning
in this game i will be the queen
by martha mclaughlin twitter: @wordwhirler
@realisticpoetry
Sharing my flowers illuminates my tower
I created my scent to forever intoxicate
As I wield magic in my roots to devour hate
My succulent flavor guarantees you'll forever crave all I generate
As my faith pours seedlings on a breeze every hour
To saturate your soul in my warm majestic shower
Infesting you with a decadent outlook on life
One sniff of my bouquet and you will feel feel new every day
My planter is the creator of all you smell, see, and hear anyway
So please come one come all
My growth won't wilt from the sprawl
I never wilt even when I fall
My garden blooms constantly only He can end my call
An enduring Iris that grows from His clay, where I rose after all
And all of you are worthy of investing love in your hall
By Infecting your entire strand with the sway of my petals
Because my planted soul's stronger than any lifeless metal
Amanda Underwood
5/12/2020
@Realistic Poetry
Twitter #GoddessofLite
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insta #MyAmazinSpace
thank you for this wonderful platform
Hopefully, this is imagined, rather than the grief and its aftermath this conveys.
Thank you for the invite. Looking forward to a meaningful literary interaction.
Wonderful to read the emotion under the surface of the words - like shock and grief.
I lost the list
of what to do when you die.
It’s folded in a book somewhere,
as if I could read.
Was I supposed to tell the birds,
the cat?
My private, practiced, grief
has already stained the mirror.
I broke a fancy plate,
passed it off as being clumsy.
It’s not that anything is imminent,
surprise, even anticipated,
is it’s own jolt.
The math is scary,
complicated, x equaling
a minus, accumulating clouds
lining silver.
I’ll stop locking the door,
what comes in by window,
welcome. The big rock,
in the heart of my truck,
has a space for names.
”Aren’t we all poetry in search of a place to lay down our words?”-Artemis Skye McNeil @poetryflowsthrough Thank you.
Thank you for your support and advice, wonderful!
That's a kindness from you. Thank you.
Thank you for helping spread the word and caring about our words.