Poems and Poetry

lying poems

Tomb XVII | A Poem by Rafaela Panagou

Wasted feelings never die.
Instead, they thrive upon our grieving
Perhaps, they seek a noble ending
To draw the barest form and meaning.

Unbeknownst to us, these hours,
they choose to escape to violet fields.
Crowned with gray and withered flowers,
they lay like corpses on their shields.

Can you paint their sky once more?
Why did you bring me to this place?
Alas, I have been here before.

This procession past their tomb
echoes of the steps I took
on those paths that smelled of heather,
let me ponder to remember.

Yes, my love, I have recalled.

On this stone as blank as ice,
eulogy of our destined end
the lie you uttered to be nice
Reads handwritten “to a friend”.

Oncology | A Poem by Stan Morrison

medical advances only offer slim chances
like raffle tickets loaded with unpleasantness
empty your bank account, ride at your own risk
side effects outnumber the therapeutic promises
while “quality of life” is given homage so glibly
the oncologist is just trying to make a living
“survive my poisons and you’ve got it made”
decades of stagnant statistics
masquerading as great progress
walk jog run swim for the cure
Galen remedies dare you to try
American medicine delights in self-adulation
everyone smiling on the evening news report

Galen was a Dark Ages physician. Burns were often treated by pouring hot oil on them. Survival was very much in question. Galen once wrote that his methods worked in nearly every instance, or sometimes the patient just died.