Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

They have killed my sister

She walks around singing

"Its all over now baby blue"

And saying in a flat voice

I am dead

The little cyst on her cervix is now a mass

She has a mass on everything in her gut

I am drunk

It seems to help

Vodka and orange juice breakfast.
On the upside we do hug each other a lot more

She is very calm
Sorting her papers
Putting her affairs in order

These are the good old days

walking this evening, i heard your voice
"the HMO is killing my sister"
and i was thinking, i didn't ask him what HMO was
and i was walking
and i was thinking
and i thought, oh-god
HMO is medical
sister, sister

oh-god, i thought
and now here it is

cyst to body
growth to mass

and i know that this end is inevitable
as in truth, a friend reached her end last evening

and meditation and reiki and acupuncture
and love and belief and self-healing
all helped

but last night she left
surrounded by love

and i wish your sister
love
and the ability to choose the moment when she goes

and this heartfelt wish goes from here to there. May she accept love
from a stranger. And love from a recently departed friend, who knows that after death, love continues.

Thank you for the reply

I needed to hear that from a kind stranger.

When I was a child not one adult in my family ever told me about life after death, or rewards in heaven or torment in hell. But I know that love lingers beyond the grave.

our lives flicker like candles' softly dancing beams

one thing that I try to remind myself to believe
one morsel of hope that I cling to
when life has shovelled dirt upon my eyes
is that it's never too late
the last gasp, the final hurrah
may simply be an encore to better things
the end merely a startled beginning
the restoration of all we thought lost
Think of it
the inevitable outcome, the steady hand of fate
only a stepping stone to great
accept that possibility and you can stand steadfast
unwavering
if only our desperate hearts could mete out
those necessary measures of faith and trust
in quantity enough to sustain us in times of loss
we could relegate our clutching doubts
our overwhelming dreads to history
silence forever the droning notion
the sedentary rot
that all is hopeless when it is not
never can be

God knows where the spirit goes
God knows where the spirit goes
God knows where the spirit goes
so I'll rest my weary mind

We reach for hope like a long lost friend and often come up empty
may we find ourselves full of it when most needed
and may our friends give us hugs when we most need them

Consider yourself hugged

cyst-her
save-her
save your
brave sister

i embrace her
i hug you

sending light
and love

Peace and love to you both.... I don't know what else to say, Jack.

...

upsides are good
to focus on
there are so many
ways to heal