A Midnight Stroll

Time weighed heavily on his bones

1806, 1943

Each step he took, he walked a century

1740, 1856, 1901

Dust stirred beneath his aged form

1723, 1907 and 1908 respectively

Death surrounded him

1812, 1776, 2009

In all it's glory

Interviewing my Mother (Draft 2)

        What was it like dying?

As the cancer seared through your body

            Did you still find time to smile?

As your lungs became the battle ground

            Between healthy and mutated cells

Did life still have meaning?

"Radiation, turned my skin red

My beautiful hair, my source of pride,

Finally came out, falling onto my pillow

As if my body itself were weeping

Your aunt came over that day

      Shaving my head, removing my crown

    After all, it was time for wigs

Oh, but I had a smile on my face

when you got off the bus that day

My new crown of glory resting on my head

An unexpected surprised that

wasn’t unexpected, after all

There were five of you, three of blood, two of love,

my beacons of life

You were only newly ripped from the womb,

But in so little time,

you learned the lesson of death

            One that I taught you

But my life had meaning, how could it not?

I had all I wanted in life.

After all, I had you.

            It just wasn’t enough to live for

Dying wasn’t so bad, once you got past the grief

            My body, it ached. Walking became difficult

How could I fight it any longer? My brain turned to mush

            Fleeting memories of better times,

And my body…oh how heavy it felt

            Even after losing my breast

I still felt heavy, as if my bones turned to stone

            But we had fun, despite the war

Raging inside of me. Your grandmother,

            She would stand beside me, inappropriately grabbing my breast

The one that was no longer there

But we all laughed. It was funny, it was naughty

And if we couldn’t poke fun at my situation

I’d be dying in a different way

For two years I fought, and then I was cleared

            I wasn’t dying anymore.

The cells were gone and it was time to recover

            Time to move on

I made jokes, talking about how my new breasts

            Would be bigger than yours

But it wasn’t in my cards. Not for me

            And not for you

My cancer came back

            Or it never did leave

This time though, it perforated my lungs

            My liver, my brain

I would have been on chemo for life

            And radiation for sure

A red, shell of a person is what I would have been

            But I didn’t have it in me, not anymore

The battle became too fierce

            I withered away before your eyes

A rose fighting for life in the warmth of Summer

            While their insides turned to ice

I wish I could say I had a glorious end

            One filled with trumpets and singers

A real menagerie, but it wasn’t

            It was in the living room

Surrounded by my family, but confined to my bed

            Where I found out what it truly was like

To finally be dying

            It was where you found out

What it felt like to die”

Interviewing My Mother

What was it like dying?

As the cancer seared through your body

            Did you still find time to smile?

As your lungs became the battle ground

            Between healthy and mutated cells

Did life still have meaning?

Radiation turned my skin red

My beautiful hair, my source of pride,

Finally came out, falling onto my pillow

As if my body itself was weeping

Your aunt came over and shaved my head

                        It was time for wigs

But I had a smile on my face

when you got off the bus that day,

An unexpected surprised that

wasn’t unexpected, after all

There were five of you, three of blood, two of love,

my beacons of life

You were only newly ripped from the womb,

But in so little time, you learned the lesson of death

            One I taught you

But my life had meaning, how could it not?

I had all I wanted in life.

After all, I had you.

            It just wasn’t enough to live for

Dying wasn’t so bad, once you got past the grief

            My body, it ached. Walking became difficult

How could I fight it any longer? My brain turned to mush

            Fleeting memories of better times,

And my body…oh how heavy it felt

            Even after losing my breast

It still felt heavy, as if my bones turned to stone

            But we had fun, despite the war

Raging inside of me. Your grandmother,

            She would stand beside me, inappropriately grabbing my breast

The one that was no longer there

But we all laughed. It was funny, it was naughty

And if we couldn’t poke fun at my situation

I’d be dying in a different way

For two years I fought, and then I was cleared

            I wasn’t dying anymore.

The cells were gone and it was time to recover

            Time to move on

I made jokes, talking about how my new breasts

            Would be bigger than yours

But it wasn’t in my cards. My cancer came back

            Or it never did leave

Only this time it perforated my lungs

            My liver, my brain

I would have been on chemo for life

            And radiation for sure

A red, shell of a person is what I would have been

            But I didn’t have it in me, not anymore

The battle became to fierce

            I withered away before your eyes

A rose fighting for life in the warmth of Summer

            With their insides turned to ice

I wish I could say I had a glorious end

            One filled with trumpets and singers

A real menagerie, but it wasn’t

            It was in the living room

Surrounded by my family, but confined to my bed

            Where I found out what it truly was like

To finally be dying

            It was where you found out

What it felt like to die

Ode to Cigarettes (Draft 4)

The end of your body burns brightly
Releasing the essence of your spirit 
Entering my soul and filling my lungs
with the pungent fragrance of Death

Selbstmord begehen (to commit suicide)

My nerves, they crave you
My silver chain, caresses my heart
Making my every desire, yours

Abhängigkeit (addiction)

I loathe the very thought of you

But all it takes is one glimpse of 
your long, slender figure, and I know,
I am yours again

Rückfall (relapse)

As your numbers,
quickly dwindle away,
in a spark of fire,
I hate myself more
and more, but I know,
I know that one day 
My soul will be cleansed
As I ascend to Heaven
With clouds at my feet

Rauchschwaden (cloud of smoke) 

The Devil's Game

We are all victims of the Devil's Game

like toy soldiers, or pawns in a game of chess

we await the commands of our master

The game is brutal and death is common

Those who do survive are nothing more than

mindless zombies that walk, talk and remember

Many try to escape, but they always fail

Once you play the Devil's Game, it never ends

There may be times when you believe the game has ended

but then the Devil's crinkly red hand wraps itself around you 

and throws you into the heat of the game once more

Face It

We're all victims of the Devil's Game

A game in which we cannot win

escape is futile so you might as well

Give in

Written in 2008

For Mom

Happy Birthday Mom
It's a special day for you
Blow out the candles
Make your dreams come true

Watch the flames as they flicker low
Watch them until it's time to go

It's been a year and time just flies
Especially when this one was filled with goodbyes
It's hard to believe you're no longer here
but in my heart you'll always be dear

So I wish that this birthday for you is the best
and your soul forever lays at rest
Forever I'll love and miss you
And even though my mood is blue
I wrote this poem just for you
and at your gravestone these words shall lay
As a gift from me on your birthday