http://www.blurb.com/b/7455812-the-box-of-secrets.
Tag: cancer
The sunlight crept over the wall slowly
pulling itself as if tugging a tank
the heavy night seemed distant
the dreams seemed real…
With heavy heart I looked at the sky
the soft blue of a summer day
was nearly upon me,
light puffy wisps of pearly white clouds
pushed into my vision,
as this voice inside vibrates,
a heart bleeds and dissolves.
This circle goes round forever
this wall withers my needs
as I look above…
Difficult heart cutting days.
The wall that holds me back.
The wall, tall, dark and brutally gloomy,
this barrier to a new life,
this wall so near my face,
this wall that snaps and breaks me
and withers my heart…
This wall so heavily built against me
unyielding,
this block of bricks
returns its view…
@ copyright Susie Hemingway.
Under a lovers gaze stoic and stubborn
I fight for you,
in watchful waiting the power of my mind
spurs me on…
The tiredness of these determined efforts for you,
to strive is hard to do.
With strength needed as not to succumb
I walk on and on,
for there can never be amongst this pain
nothing left for you ?
Don’t ever think I do not clearly see
for if only my eyes could shut out all,
to mar, inflict distress, destroy the purity of,
impair, fatally ruin – All this !
Through my smiles, the anguish of my heart,
flows in time with this wretched beast
as it continues it’s wicked path.
Under my lovers gaze, I fight for you.
*“There is freedom within
There is freedom without
try to catch the deluge in a paper cup,
there’s a battle ahead, many battles are lostâ€
*Extract from “Don’t Dream Is Over†by Crowded House Written by Neil Finn 1987
Photo courtesy: Matt Rutherford www.mattrutherford.com
© Susie Hemingway 2010
People’s eyes tell their story
as sitting quietly deep in thought,
magazines remain unread,
heads often bow in contemplation.
A visit to Oncology is a serious affair,
the television that no-one watches
or at least in glancing view
doors that often open
but never seem to be for you.
Faces flushed in anxious stares,
no one likes sitting here
on daily wiped plastic chairs.
The receptionist whose eyes
seem not to engage,
that must be thinking of supper
with her lover or of special days,
perhaps of summer holidays
spent in some sunny Costa’s far away…
You wait thinking best thoughts
and then into the ‘hands clean zone’
weak smiles greet you there,
no holidays for the many
connected to their life lines,
some sucking lollies that cool
the fire that hopefully will cure all,
a visit to Oncology is a serious affair.
The “ding ding dongs†of bleepers
tell in never ending harmony
a different ‘chemo story’
for those sweet worried faces sitting here,
some of fear; their eyes resigned
to all that fate may bring.
I look at the signs around the suite
telling of special wigs and treats,
the cleverly placed plaque
above my head that reads
“God give me the serenity to accept the things I cannot changeâ€
so beautifully written
in perfect flowing Italic hand
by someone who perhaps
also spent many hours in this room.