Poems about cancer

The  Hospital Waiting Room

Inconsequential magazines full of cars and TV screens
Mobile phones and lifestyle choice,
Waiting here with my quiet voice.
The Chrome is warm in my grip of fear,
As no one sees me sitting here,
Heart beating in no mans land,
Time has simply stopped,
My life on hold for ten more minutes,
Until the bombshells dropped.
The corridor seems very long as I slowly walked on through,
Following the Bow Tie with answered stored for you.
Another chair before me, covered in words I never use,
He tells me the reason I am here and what I am about to lose.
It could be this, it could be that,
Take a look and see!
Showing me the photograph of wants inside of me.
Folding up the Polaroid now heavy in my hand.
I sit for a while in Roulette thoughts,
Not knowing where to bet,
Placing chips on Red and Black,
Odds and Evens too,
Covering every base, trying not to lose.
It span, it span, some twenty times,
In the ten minutes my life stopped,
Landing on the Zero in Red and Black in dropped!
I looked back at the Bow Tie,
And thanked him for the spin,
He shook my hand politely congratulating me on my win.
With my winnings in my pocket,
I got up from the chair,
Walked into the waiting room with other players there,
Some will win some will lose, and others never spin.
The rest of us will sit at home with our TV screens,
Wrapped up in cars, mobile phones and inconsequential magazines.

Stephen Collier

A Smile..

Questions on my mind

The  Hospital Waiting Room

Inconsequential magazines full of cars and TV screens
Mobile phones and lifestyle choice,
Waiting here with my quiet voice.
The Chrome is warm in my grip of fear,
As no one sees me sitting here,
Heart beating in no mans land,
Time has simply stopped,
My life on hold for ten more minutes,
Until the bombshells dropped.
The corridor seems very long as I slowly walked on through,
Following the Bow Tie with answered stored for you.
Another chair before me, covered in words I never use,
He tells me the reason I am here and what I am about to lose.
It could be this, it could be that,
Take a look and see!
Showing me the photograph of wants inside of me.
Folding up the Polaroid now heavy in my hand.
I sit for a while in Roulette thoughts,
Not knowing where to bet,
Placing chips on Red and Black,
Odds and Evens too,
Covering every base, trying not to lose.
It span, it span, some twenty times,
In the ten minutes my life stopped,
Landing on the Zero in Red and Black in dropped!
I looked back at the Bow Tie,
And thanked him for the spin,
He shook my hand politely congratulating me on my win.
With my winnings in my pocket,
I got up from the chair,
Walked into the waiting room with other players there,
Some will win some will lose, and others never spin.
The rest of us will sit at home with our TV screens,
Wrapped up in cars, mobile phones and inconsequential magazines.

Stephen Collier

A Smile..

This is what cancer feels like

A fisherman once told me that there is a creature

Beneath the glass surface, its tentacles sometimes reach

For the neck of the sleeping bodies, cover them in jelly tears,

Transform them into indigo spirits, walking the edge of consciousness.

You have to tame that creature, wrestle it against the azure waves,

Insult the wind, tell him that the colour of death is blue,

That the fishermen are just a few wrinkled masks, eroding every day

Layer by layer, losing their fatherhood, till they become sloshed in the sky.

 Cancer Won’t change me

Hair or no hair I don’t care
I have cancer but I don’t care
Cancer you don’t own me
I’ll live my life the way I love
I’ll spend it with those I love
I’ll enjoy running along the river
and playing badminton too.
So, whenever you fancy a laugh
or a night out with a few cocktails
remember I am always right here.
Please don’t ever feel sorry for me
just your love & support will carry me.
Cancer, you will not change me
I’m Sam, and I will always be me!

by Sam Patel

A Smile..

Sorrow

You’re Standing in the fire
Burning all that you desire.
I can’t bare this no more,
Hopes, dreams flat on the floor.

You helped me through the pain and tears for years,
Spoke words of wisdom and priceless advises.

Now you speak without sound
But I hear you clearly.
Help me out of this fire,
I want to feel disere.

I wanted to see your smile,
Not six months of watching you die.

written by   Sune Hede – Wait for me.

Breast Cancer 

Checking your breasts regularly
Upper chest and armpits too,
Is crucial to early diagnosis
Know what is normal to you.

Lumps, thickening of breast tissue
One breast becomes larger or lower,
Make sure you attend breast screening
If you are fifty or over.

Everyone’s breasts are different
Different times of month and age,
Look out for changes unusual to you
If worried, GP please engage.

Puckering or dimpling of skin
Continuous pain causing strife,
Reporting changes without delay
Can make a difference to your life.

Have your nipples inverted (turned in)?
Have they changed shape or position?
Developing a rash, crusting or discharge
If any of these, it’s your mission.

Make an appointment with your GP
Remember this is your body,
Early diagnosis can make a difference
Better to be safe than sorry.

Written by Bill Mckechnie

Because I never gave up on me

Walking down the hall without that horrid IV
No words can do justice to how I feel so free
I one so small have conquered that roaring “C”
And showed you all I can, because I never gave up on me.

Not many believed, they lose faith fast
Not even I dreamt how long I’d last
They said it had ended when the stone was cast
But I showed you all I could, because I never gave up on me.

Oh how the pain burned
Slow like seasons turned
And to give up I yearned
But I showed you strength, because I never gave up on me.

With silent tears I struggled on
My only hope she now was gone
From above her light shone
I showed her I was grateful, because I never gave up on me.

Lying in bed
Listening to sounds I dread
Screams of a child and loved ones who cry
There are too many miles to go why can’t I just die.
My skin is sore
From the needles I bore
The drugs I take
They make me ache
I’m tired of fighting let’s end this bid,
oh why can’t I just be a normal kid?
I’d show myself and I’d show you all
That I made it through with my back against the wall
Because I never gave up on me.

In size and in strength may you never judge me
I won that battle because I had faith in me
There is so much more that you can’t see
And I showed you all, because I never gave up on me.

Walking down the hall without that horrid IV
No words can do justice to how I feel so free,
I one so small have conquered that roaring “C”
And showed you all I can, because I never gave up on me. By CHRISTINE MULVIHILL

The power of cancer.

It can’t take my memories.
Except at the end.

It can’t swallow love.
But can change it forever.

It can’t change who God is.
Or where I go next.

It can’t stop the world.
But will let me get off.

It will destroy me in body.
But can’t change the past.

It can’t use computers
You’re reading this now.

My Dad

I feel so empty feel so blue so scared of what my life will be like without you.
I feel so useless yet i try so hard hate feeling this helpless makes me sad.
It’s my job I should know what to do but all training and advice was never meant for you.
Once so strong and full of life a family man with kids and a wife .
You worked long days you walked home to Dad there was nothing that you couldn’t do.
The fairy stories while sat on your knee will always mean the world to me .
Warming my hands on dads hairy chest and listening to you sing was simply the best.
Only now we realise what we will miss that look in your eyes and a hug and a kiss.
The memories will last forever dosent stop it being harder than ever.
I don’t want to say goodbye not fair you have to go .

Not now when I love and need you so.
Why is life so unfair I wonder while I stroke your hair
Hate to see u so tired and laying so still makes me realise the pain you must’ve been in all you’ve been through and the hurt that you’ve had determination got you through thats you that’s you…..  my dad. Stubborn and strict that’s how it would be .

Your intentions were good u were thinking of Me.
I’m just the baby the youngest one it didn’t hurt this bad when losing my mum .
As I’ve grown older ive learnt to see all the things you’ve done for me.
The advice at times fell on deaf ears but you were there regardless even through the tears.
Honest and straight to the point  like it or not u had your voice.
It hurts me to see how things have changed your personality  just isn’t the same to see u weak and tired too it breaks my heart it feels  likes it’s torn into two.

We didnt always agree and at times i was angry just being me.
Hot headed and stupid u just let me be me .
I know I was no angel and I made times hard but you never gave up no matter how hard.
Dad I just love you wish you could see what a difference having you there has meant for me .

No words can explain or stop the inevitable but I want you to know dad I think you are incredible ??It’s so unfair how life has changed although the pain eases the loneliness remains .

Prize fighter

I don’t want you to die,
And I don’t want you to just beat it,
I want you to scrap with it like a street brawler,
Rip its cuffs and tear the lapels from its shirt.
Drown it in a muddy piss filled puddle,
Flip a coin as you walk away.

I want you to live and argue with it endlessly,
I want you to be irritated by it and impatient
as you are with me right now.
You say my life’s a hamster wheel of disaster.
You laugh at its silliness, scratching at the uneven patches under your wig.
This monstrosity, you say, it looks like a badger’s arse.

 I gaze at your face now,
Irish and watery eyed with fear and mirth.
There’s a line under your eye
that you didn’t have before…and soft red marks on your hands.

Prize fighter.
Fight dirty and grab it by its dark balls, or
if it happens to be a lady,
dig your nails in and pull out her hair. All’s fair.

Like for like.
Be the rebel your ancestors might have been,
Wear your heels and wrestle in the mud,
Smoke a cigarette in a glamourous way and throw champagne in its face.
Wipe the smile off its filthy face,
Wipe a smear of oil across your face.

Roll your sleeves up…the gloves should be off.
But let’s not talk in clichés,
Powerless. You’re better than that.
Clinch it…twist it…bring it down on the nub of your knee.
Kick the stool from under it.

But never forget, sunshine.
I’m in your corner…sponge in hand,
Bellowing at you, above the ragged crowd.
I don’t want you to die.
Prize fighter.

Cancer –  a poem

There’s a great expectation that grows in my heart

whenever I see your bloodshot eyes lighten up

There’s a great expectation that grows in my heart

A greater expectation sometimes

Whenever you open your mouth to smile.

I’d rush up to the side of your bed

Pressing my ears close to your freckle mouth

As your mutter words into my ears

I’d behold your atrophied face between my tear torn eyes

And wonder what it was that ate up your weight

Then I’d smile too

At your wordless and sick joke.

I’d pace my glance round through the room

In search of traces of what you used to be;

Happy, lively, funny, yet cocky.

Then I’d stand two feet away

From what you have become

And behold the pale pink color of skin,

The barren bald surface of your skull,

The tragic trap of tragic traps

Closely sewn to the temple of your face

Then I’d gasp at the shock of your horror movie

As I dashed towards the sink

Welling up in heaps of sadness

At the joy, your illness has snatched

Then I’d rise up from the sink

I’d water down my slime

And walk back to your cradle-like bed

“You’d be fine darling”

I’d lie out to your weak ears;

like they do in the movies

But now that I  stare at you

I expect nothing more

At least not anymore

Since your bones now poke your scrawny skin

In a bid of treacherous display

Of atrophy, of dejection, of pale moles of different sizes

Urgh!

Life has given me you

And given you cancer.

Chemo in winter/ Everyday life.

I come-to wearily, conscious of the slight ache in my shoulder.
I hold the kettle under the cold tap, one foot on the other on the chilly lino.

I watch the sheep from the kitchen window while I wait for the kettle to click off.
They are nibbling the hedge. I don’t know what attracts them. It looks bare to me.

I take my cereal and tea back to bed and arrange my two duvets, my hat and my scarf.
I am lucky to have an appetite.

Once I’ve drunk my tea I’ll have a cup of water then clean my teeth, have a salt-water rinse and try and chase some more sleep.

Despite it being a bright, sunny day out there, sometimes you just can’t find the will to live each day as if it were your last.

Silver linings

I will always be young and beautiful.
The tragic heroine has been a favourite part.
I have no pension plan.
What a brilliant decision!

What percentage do my investments earn?
Well, it doesn’t matter!

How will my tattoo look aged 65?
Er, sort of crumbly and brown.

Smoking kills you.
The cancer already does.

How does it feel to be the living dead?
I can stare death in the face and almost hold it’s hypnotic gaze.

Its nearness makes everything clearer, brighter, darker.
My fiancée has commitment issues.
Not any more he doesn’t!

Watching people’s faces when you tell them you haven’t long left.
I love to get a reaction.

Things we never say

(Things we never say on an angry day when they’re only trying to help).

“You know, you’re not the only one’
I say ‘True, true.’
Because it is.
I don’t say ‘Thanks, I feel much smaller now.’
and ‘I don’t care; this is happening to me.’

You know, there are others who are much worse off’
I say ‘True, true.’
Because it is.
I don’t say ‘Thanks, I feel much guiltier now.’
and ‘Do you think I don’t know that?’

‘You know that this attitude is selfish and self-pitying’
I say ‘True, true.’
Because it is.
I don’t say ‘Thanks, I feel so pitiful now.’
and ‘Do you think I want to feel like this?’

You know, any of us could be hit by a bus tomorrow’
I say ‘True, true.’
Because it is.
I don’t say ‘Thanks, I feel melodramatic now.’
Or ‘I look forward to that.’

‘You know, you should be positive’
I say ‘Perhaps, perhaps’
Because it’s probably true.
I don’t say ‘Thanks, I feel a failure now.’
and ‘How does that work exactly?? Wanna show me?’

‘You know, you need to fight it’
I say ‘True, true.’
Because it probably is.
I don’t say ‘Thanks, I feel much weaker now.’
and ‘Which weapons do you suggest I employ?’

You know, that miracles can happen’
I say ‘True, true.’
Because it is.
I don’t say ‘Thanks, I feel so faithless now.’
or ‘Yeah, but let’s face it; that’s not going to happen.’

Why did I smoke?

I looked in the mirror and what did I see?

A bald headed person staring at me,

The chemotherapy certainly works,

I`m fed up laying in my bed,

feeling sickly,

it is just as they said,

My weight has gone down in a matter of days

Dont feel like eating , cancer certainly has its different ways.

I used to smoke ,40 years and more,

why stop I used to say , smoking isnt a chore,

I wont get cancer, me ! no way,

so now look at me with only one lung,

They were right cancer isnt much fun.

So if you smoke and think it wont happen to you.

Take heed of my words they are really true.

The Right to be a Bird

To grace the morning with your song
To fly so freely all day long
To perch upon a sturdy tree
And watch the world pass peacefully
To see the beauty from great height
To feel so resonant and light
To watch the river flowing past
Your body free from pain at last
To change your course when you see fit
To fly some more, then rest a bit

To sit on church tops, spirit free
To feel close to divinity
To visit people at your will
To cheap and chirp and call and trill
To have the time for contemplation

Travel lots during migration
To soak up sunbeams on your face
To take the day at your own pace
To make great patterns in the sky
To swoop and soar and flutter by

Your body’s left a life absurd
You’ve earned the right to be a bird

Confusing Season

Sugar dust sprinkled
On a tall shrouded hill
So far away
And I’m missing you still

Ahead there is sunshine
But a bite in the air
Such a mixture of weather
How I wish you were there
And the blackbirds are calling
For the Spring toarrive
And I call on thoughts

That help keep you alive
My hands they are freezing
And the river flows on
Even friends can lack patience
Wishing me to move on
And the train winds ahead
And it transports my soul
And a swan calls out to me

How I long to feel whole
This journey is bumpy
Full of highs and of lows
And the pain of your passing

So intense, no one knows
It’s a puzzle, a riddle
And who knows the reason
I am carried along
By this confusing season

This Curse
By CHRISTINE MULVIHILL

I used to think life would be perfect, never a frown on my face
I’d have a perfect figure and always travel with grace,
I could pick my man from a catalogue that’s grown fit for a queen
I never thought that the people I loved could ever be so mean.

Life kind of just hit me not waiting ’til I was ready
Knocked me from my stance in which I was so steady
It changed me as a person, a person that’s not me
It has changed me into everything I don’t want to be.
Sometimes I just can’t grasp it with the help of all my friends
It’s like trying to wrap your arms around a tree that never ends.

When I look in the mirror I despise what I see
The person starring back doesn’t resemble me,
She’s quite a different person with her heart so out of place
She becomes invisible when the tears run down her face.
She built a wall of shame around her soul and let’s no one in
She can fool you with her smile even though she cries within.
She keeps her feeling locked up in her heart
So when she’s all alone is when she falls apart.

I act as if I have it together and everything is in place
But when you’re not looking the tears begin to race
While people surround me I pretend not to care
My heart bleeds in pain when they are not there.

When my stomach gurgles with rage, you think its indigestion
But what is broken is more the appropriate question.
What is broken cannot be fixed so don’t worry my friend
I’ll take this curse from the beginning to the very end.
Help me if you can listen, help me if you will
But I can’t cure this curse because there is no pill.

Love thy Neighbour

As I sit in the chair, nervous fingers through my hair
I gaze at his lips
Searching for hints and tips
I snap to attention when I hear
The dreaded words I fear
He says, “You have a year at most –
Draw your loved ones near
By email or by post-
Live life to the max
Play the piano or learn the sax”
So I did as I was told, my life no longer on hold
I left my old baggage, embraced a new package
My bucket list revised, my loved ones apprised
My God came first-to love Him with ferocity
My kids followed- to love them with veracity
Yours truly came next- to live life with audacity
As my time draws near, I’ve eschewed all fear
Hear me laugh out loud
As the kids do me proud
As my God begins the remould
My gifts begin to unfold
My life takes on new meaning
Peace and love now streaming
I never saw it before,
Who would’ve thought a deadline Could’ve revealed a pipeline
To God’s very core?
I see it so clearly, I understand it quite simply
Life is shorter than you think
Don’t wait until you’re at the brink
No ones gonna make it
No one survives
Not the way you think
Be kind to yourself
Simply love thy neighbour as
thyself

By Vivian Zems

It Can

It can break you and take you to places you don’t want to go
It can hit you and kick you with every heavy blow
It can rock you and shock you with its mighty fist
It can stop you and drop you into a dark abyss

It can reset you then let you drown alone
It can thump you and dump you like a stone
It can strangle you and dangle you over a cliff
It can make the supple buckle and become stiff

It can whirl you and twirl you round its little finger
It can enter right, left and centre and linger
It can think it’s ace to find a resting place so sweet
It can defeat you and eat you until it is replete

It can be spiteful and frightful any time of day
It can harass you then cast you away
It can make you grumble and keep you humble too
It can make you cry and say goodbye but never really leave you

It can be deleted
It can be defeated it can, it can, it can…

Claire Mooney, Manchester

My brother

How do you say good bye

When it is too early

We all go, we die

That is part of life

But not yet, not now

Too young

I will remember I will not forget

Underwear on our head, scuba divers

Bothering you when we were young

I just wanted to be you

My protector, my friend

It is not good bye

We will meet again

David (who read this poem at his brothers funeral in Mountain View California)