in this grim room
music is machine
pumping drugs into body
blood carries death
bone marrow - killing sponge
heartless beat
drugs-marrow-blood merge
cancer and I
inseparable in our rhythm
undefined except by numbers
unfamiliar numbers
telling tales about me
lying
surrounded by bars
medicine maestro
name my number without pretence
do not promise me dreams
of survivors
when chance is king
and whistles a catchy tune
my blood cells hold me prisoner
search for a key
make me a jailbird
let me sing my song once more
the omnipotence of cancer
a soulless track
machine pumping volume
I want this music to stop
Loosely inspired by Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird by Wallace Stevens. The ongoing hum of the drug pump becomes part of the background noise associated with chemotherapy treatment. I used noise cancellation earphones and real music to mask the sound. Chemotherapy is very drastic treatment that takes your body to the brink of tolerance. This is why we can only managed a limited number of treatment rounds, before our bodies stop coping. Hopefully in the future, more targeted and less brutal treatment will become available.
September 2023 is Blood Cancer Awareness Month. It is also Child Cancer Awareness Month. Every day 10 children in the UK are diagnosed with cancer. Of those lucky enough to survive, many will have long-term side-effects that may significantly impact their lives forever.
I am posting one poem per day to recognise this and raise money for the Ellen MacArthur Cancer Trust. This charity provides sailing and other outdoor adventures for children and young people aged 8-24 who have been treated for cancer. But it’s more than that. There’s a package of support around this including siblings, return trips, volunteering opportunities and so on. The Trust also works hard to ensure their work is environmentally sustainable. You can make a donation HERE!
I prefer not to click 'like' on this one, Juliet. You certainly captured the brutality of it all. I opened it once and began to read but had to walk away. The second time I opened it, I got all the way to the line "inseparable in our rhythm" before I needed to again turn away. Though effective for your tone, the line I really don't want to read again is "when chance is king and whistles a happy tune". It kind of makes me feel sick like a bad carnival ride with all the smells and grease and grim soaked in music too loud and too blurred to recognize. At the closing line, I felt connected with the speaker as I closed my eyes and prayed for the music to stop.
May peace and plenty be the first to lift the latch to your door.
A ‘like’ seems inappropriate… this is so powerful and intimate. …an insight to your ‘jail’ …