Thursday, April 27, 2017

The Cancer Chronicles, continued

barefoot doctor

pain creeps up like an angry cat
ready to rip your throat out
should you make the  wrong move.

During sleep 
I opt for dreams
instead of medication
and wake with aching bones
untouched by the morning dose.

Combing crystals through the air
I collect and discard
the sudden mud
of my aura,  and

Tuning forks sing their song
into my flesh
dancing with my bones
To bring peace

Sometimes I boogie,
sometimes I don't

I pick and choose my medicine.

Crystals to clear and nurture,
Power songs to weave a circle
where I will sit for a moment
In time
transforming energy,
redirecting qi.

But this metastatic cancer
is a harsh mistress
Often refusing to budge
with either Oriental recipes
or Occidental masks.

Sometimes things work, bringing
relief, or tolerance, and
letting me believe in magic
once again.


  1. You have tough pride and gentle soul.
    I hope you get well.

    Peace of Zen.

    From far away oriental, Japan.

  2. I am at least glad to hear that you sometimes have relief. I think of you often, Barbara, and as always root for your comfort and health. you are brave. I love seeing your poetry.

  3. "Sometimes I boogie, sometimes I don't."

    So simple. so wise.

    Prayers continue to ascend.

  4. Beautiful words. This is very inspiring to me! I love your creative soul.


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