I have the start of Lung Cancer: I was told by the Doctors, "Bad News 2" poem I wrote.
I have a mass on my Lung, 2 Cm big. Thats where we are now!
Thanks Starward...
That's some heavy baggage
I: That's some heavy baggage
I resonated with some of the emotions and the descriptions.
The pain is clear but hazy and confused
Moments of clarity and darkness
I was there with you I felt
Punching my way out of a black garbage bag
Only I couldn't get through because
Some how if the bag broke id be free
And that to me just felt so lonely!
Great write deep blue
Hugss
A man who exists to lend: A man who exists to lend credibility to the empty suits. People who were starting to be seen through. A very clever ruse. When it has some people who hated George W. Bush with a passion saying "I miss him", the billionaires have won.
Thank you for reminding us of: Thank you for reminding us of the dire truths that now face us, and against which we must cast our votes---if need be---in November of 2024. I have often felt, and even suggested among my own social circle, that those of us who wish to see the failure of Trump's next attempt (to establish his dictatorship and destroy our democracy) ought to register as members of his party, just for the Primaries, so that he can be denied the denomination. He would likely need to be defeated in the General Election as well, but denial of the Party Nomination would be a crushing blow to his campaign.
"Faulting ears" seem to be a: "Faulting ears" seem to be a natural enemy to poems and a fearful inevitability for poets to encounter. But the enduring love that bring memories to life give a freedom to feel and heal even in times of grief. May you mourn well and move into the celebration of friendship's love.
Seen as a poetic summation of: Seen as a poetic summation of sorts, that is both a succinct and useful description of what took place here. And for that I am most thankful dear Starward. There is a tinge of rue that presence is all that will come off of this but I may be proven wrong yet again in these feelings. So for now it is forward and onward. The Muse calls.
Thank you. I guess I just: Thank you. I guess I just wanted to explain why a few, a very few, of my poems are duplicated. I have been at postpoems long enough that I feel like I need not be accused of seeking unwarranted attention with duolicates, or padding out my own numbers---which has never been part of my purpose in posting here.
That reminds me of the: That reminds me of the closeness between me and my best friend since kindergarten: the closeness, an intensely delightful closeness, that we shared during through elementary school became, suddenly, subversive (according to parental authorities) when we entered adolescence, because, in our small town at that time, two adolescent boys who shared close friendships were often the target of homophobia.