Thread: The C Word
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Old 04-27-2005, 08:09 PM   #1 (permalink)
Brit Boi Gee
manifest the zen
 
Join Date: Mar 2002
Location: Near To Athena
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The C Word

It gathers on the lips of the petrified,
and becomes watered down by its commonness in tears,
there is still a shock, though only partial,
because through the media it always appears:
In the statistics, in the consumption,
in the GM foods; in the way we function.
in our processed foods and our DNA,
making the cells divert into decay.
Don't tell me, don’t say it, I’ve already heard
the terrifying casual way people use that C word.
I'm not sure what scares me the most,
the C word or how people treat it like a ghost,
or a common cold which evolves into a death
or the fear of it coming back to leave nothing left.
Women prepare by removing their healthy breasts,
We try to eat five pieces of fruit and get our rest.
We try to exercise and eat our veg.
We scan packages for dyes said to contain the means
to switch on the time bomb that lights a fuse in our genes.
Dear God, spare that baby girl all of the radiation,
all of the families fears, and trepidation!
Take away that Dreaded C word that lingers in the bedding,
and stops a daughter from having her mother at the wedding.
Take away that Black Death which fevers the soul,
and chills it to the deepest need for bone marrow.
Take that awful C word that even claims the sun,
when upon the skin the particles turn in delirium
and multiply into dark patches that weep onyx black,
Lord, I thought the water would refresh us all back.
But Alas, the C word is heard amongst the gathering,
between the silences of two friends, now it is happening;
The severity is felt above the muffle of voices,
and the continual clinking of cutlery above the noises
Flashing in the eyes to the right and left:
Treatment, Recuperation, Remission, death.
Her friend tries to console her in any manner she can,
by silent gestures like touching her hand,
but she feels contaminated by this foreign body,
which occupies some space in her unwittingly.
Something which took refuge in her summerhouse,
and tried to wreck it by painting it somber grey,
and now the doctor’s office, the smell won’t go away.
__________________
My allegiance to Apollo, patron god of poetry and healing.
Brit Boi has a highly calibrated wifermometer

Last edited by Brit Boi Gee; 04-27-2005 at 08:11 PM.
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