Wednesday, November 23, 2011

to a happier turkey day for all!

can't resist postin this pome, the latest entry to my evergrowing volume of pomes peripheral to cancer, or rather now, cancer as Periphery to Poetry ... or is it just Periphetry?


. . . . Hard to settle down

en route to my marching,

first one since diagnosis,

of what? maybe a dozen

since birth? conceived the

day Dad got back from

the war, wearing "Power

to the Peaceful" in pink,

pinned to my coat.

. . . . Saying everything

I've ever had to say

in a nutshell that nobody

understands yet. "They don't

have any unified statement."

But they will.

. . . . Next week around

turkey it will settle in. That

we are the Indians. Before that

the protestants, thrown out. We

are the Negros. The Jews my

father fought to free. We are

the women through herstory. We

are gay marriage to Mexicans on

this side of the border. Illegal.

Now it is we.

. . . . What you mean we,

kemosabe? We are Tonto.

We are free.

© marty campbell

to a happier turkey day for us all.

Sunday, November 13, 2011

mcc bloggers' blog?

dear beings sharing earth with trees and stone, solid and liquid.
as of today, i have read at the blogs of fellow mcc diagnosees numbering 7 and probly some i am forgetting. each author yes, as yet alive. this is a lot to read. infinite blessing.
i am thinking there must needs to be a bloggers' blog for us. to me, so far, we are far more than compatible. i wish my reading speed had gotten beyond 4th grade. but nothing would be enough. this unattainable is just what i said, blessing. like kid in uh candy store. to be alone with no connections is the flip side, a place i've never been, fortunately.
there are two youngies out side my window, hair blowing just like the yellow and green leaved branches above them, overcast all day, likely 44º F as opposed to my brother Tom's 64º in Chicago "perfect for tennis". one holds a triangular headed guitar case with some weight in it. they have a discussion, then part. it is getting dark at 4:30. my screen, just below the window, is getting too bright.
love and gratitude, for people to key to, and for people to read the keys of. marty