Posted in A Poem dealing with my Wife's Breast Cancer by John J. Rigo, Chemo, Is Chemo part of a "Get Rich Program", Overcoming Breast Cancer Twice, Poem, Poem regarding Cancer, Poetry, tagged Beauty, breast cancer, Cancer, Cancer Awareness Month in October of 2014, Dealing with Breast Cancer, Dealing with Chemo, Hair, Hair Care, Hairdresser, Health, Lord, Overcoming Breast Cancer, Race and ethnicity in the United States Census, Shopping, Two-Time Breast Cancer on October 10, 2014|
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Commentary of October 10th, 2014: My apology to my Followers. October is Cancer Awareness Month and I am late in my postings of poetry work on the subject. My Bride and beautiful wife is a “Two-Time Breast Cancer Survivor.” She now is Cancer Free for Six years now. The following poem is one I wrote when we were in the mist of her second bout.
I could see the sadness in her eyes
as each chunk of her golden hair came forth in her hand.
She placed her once shining, golden flax into a plastic bag
to be reminded of the beauty of her hair.
Her hair stylist assured her that baking soda
washed gently in her hair would prevent
the falling of her hair from her scalp.
In giving her this suggestion
the stylist refused to cut her hair shorter
in order to make her lost easier to bear.
The stylist was wrong.
Bear witness to the shining and blotched scalp
where beautiful golden hair once resided.
Nightmares of her past returned to her.
Remembrance of a childhood ring worm of her head
returned to haunt her again
of laughing classmates
finger-pointing to stocking capped head.
The Spector of Death upon a black chair
drove her to the decision
to move forward to this dreaded treatment.
Was the fear real
or made to fill the pockets of her doctors?
Payments for the Rolls convertible that sat
shiny and pale green in the doctor’s slot
of the cancer treatment center.
A large cow-like-barn room
where milking looking machines of death
pumped their questionable medicine into their hosts.
A winged angel of slow death
masked as an Angel of Life
to claim another possible victim
in its green flow of money from perhaps
its victims?
Dear God,
please protect
the one I love so dearly
from this possible
self-inflicted treatment.
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Posted in Chemo, Is Chemo part of a "Get Rich Program", Poem, Poem regarding Cancer, Poetry, tagged Beauty, Dealing with Chemo, Hair, Hair Care, Hairdresser, Health, Lord, Race and ethnicity in the United States Census, Shopping on September 29, 2013|
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Courtesy of answersto.wordpress.com
I could see the sadness in her eyes
as each chunk of her golden hair came forth in her hand.
She placed her once shining, golden flax into a plastic bag
to be reminded of the beauty of her hair.
Her hair stylist assured her that baking soda
washed gently in her hair would prevent
the falling of her hair from her scalp.
In giving her this suggestion
the stylist refused to cut her hair shorter
in order to make her lost easier to bear.
The stylist was wrong.
Bear witness to the shining and blotched scalp
where beautiful golden hair once resided.
Nightmares of her past returned to her.
Remembrance of a childhood ring worm of her head
returned to haunt her again
of laughing classmates
finger-pointing to stocking capped head.
The Spector of Death upon a black chair
drove her to the decision
to move forward to this dreaded treatment.
Was the fear real
or made to fill the pockets of her doctors?
Payments for the Rolls convertible that sat
shiny and pale green in the doctor’s slot
of the cancer treatment center.
A large cow-like-barn room
where milking looking machines of death
pumped their questionable medicine into their hosts.
A winged angel of slow death
masked as an Angel of Life
to claim another possible victim
in its green flow of money from perhaps
its victims?
Dear God,
please protect
the one I love so dearly
from this possible
self-inflicted treatment.
Like this:
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Posted in Chemo, Poem, Poem regarding Cancer, Poetry, tagged Beauty, Hair, Hair Care, Hairdresser, Health, Jesus, Lord, Shopping on May 6, 2013|
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Courtesy of answersto.wordpress.com
I could see the sadness in her eyes
as each chunk of her golden hair came forth in her hand.
She placed her once shining, golden flax into a plastic bag
to be reminded of the beauty of her hair.
Her hair stylist assured her that baking soda
washed gently in her hair would prevent
the falling of her hair from her scalp.
In giving her this suggestion
the stylist refused to cut her hair shorter
in order to make her lost easier to bear.
The stylist was wrong.
Bear witness to the shining and blotched scalp
where beautiful golden hair once resided.
Nightmares of her past returned to her.
Remembrance of a childhood ring worm of her head
returned to haunt her again
of laughing classmates
finger-pointing to stocking capped head.
The Spector of Death upon a black chair
drove her to the decision
to move forward to this dreaded treatment.
Was the fear real
or made to fill the pockets of her doctors?
Payments for the Rolls convertible that sat
shiny and pale green in the doctor’s slot
of the cancer treatment center.
A large cow-like-barn room
where milking looking machines of death
pumped their questionable medicine into their hosts.
A winged angel of slow death
masked as an Angel of Life
to claim another possible victim
in its green flow of money from perhaps
its victims?
Dear God,
please protect
the one I love so dearly
from this possible
self-inflicted treatment.
Like this:
Like Loading...
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Posted in Chemo, Poem, Poem regarding Cancer, Poetry, tagged a binding of hearts, A Husband dealing with the possible lost of his wife., A McKinney Poet, A McKinney Poets' charity programs, A non-profit fund raising opportunity for the Collin County area of Texas, A Published McKinney Texas Poet, A published poet who has won the Collin County Texas Poetry Award, Dealing with the Fears of Chemo, Overcoming the Fears of Cancer, Poem, Poetry, profits assist the "homeless cause" in the state of Texas, why have we not found a cure for Cancer?, Winning Poet of the Collin County Texas Poetry Contest on June 26, 2012|
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Courtesy of answersto.wordpress.com
I could see the sadness in her eyes
as each chunk of her golden hair came forth in her hand.
She placed her once shining, golden flax into a plastic bag
to be reminded of the beauty of her hair.
Her hair stylist assured her that baking soda
washed gently in her hair would prevent
the falling of her hair from her scalp.
In giving her this suggestion
the stylist refused to cut her hair shorter
in order to make her lost easier to bear.
The stylist was wrong.
Bear witness to the shining and blotched scalp
where beautiful golden hair once resided.
Nightmares of her past returned to her.
Remembrance of a childhood ring worm of her head
returned to haunt her again
of laughing classmates
finger-pointing to stocking capped head.
The Spector of Death upon a black chair
drove her to the decision
to move forward to this dreaded treatment.
Was the fear real
or made to fill the pockets of her doctors?
Payments for the Rolls convertible that sat
shiny and pale green in the doctor’s slot
of the cancer treatment center.
A large cow-like-barn room
where milking looking machines of death
pumped their questionable medicine into their hosts.
A winged angel of slow death
masked as an Angel of Life
to claim another possible victim
in its green flow of money from perhaps
its victims?
Dear God,
please protect
the one I love so dearly
from this possible
self-inflicted treatment.
Like this:
Like Loading...
Read Full Post »