ariya-sacca

This poem is only just a tribute, To a beautiful but forgotten dream, Born silently from the view of nowhere, Where I screamed out my anger to the wind. Only the raw truth escaped from my lips, Shining bright like black pearls cast before swine, A path tracing an arc of redemption, From spilled blood to sweet dandelion wine. I spoke to those drunk with domination, To those who profit out of greed and hate, Then I saw that there was no one but me, But perhaps their broken souls heard their fate.

Fuck cancer! Isn’t that what they say? How dare the cells Of our own bodies rebel? Mutated monstrosities, Replicating without care, No respect for boundaries, Metastizing without restraint. She was only seventeen, When the cancer claimed her… As I breathed air into her lungs, Colonized by malignant cells. At least we laughed, Didn’t we beautiful Vivian? We laughed at death, While smoking our last blunt. I still remember, That fear of facing death, As you breathed your last, That I could not bear witness. It still is ironic to me, That my zodiac is Cancer, Am I the disease then? Or perhaps the healer? I have studied cancer, How life evolves to counter it, Balancing multicellularity, With cellular cooperation. And here I find myself then, In a dying sick world, With a case of terminal cancer, Only for it to be named Human