He's just hanging around.
Popping pills and dwelling
on the 'action plan.'
Yes, they've a plan!
Those modern medical superheroes.
He is resigned to the procedures,
to the pills and medicines
felt to be necessary.
The surgery and recovery,
the waiting and the hoping.
He flicks on the television. Drowning himself
in some mindless movie.
He wonders. That is, he is imposed upon
to maintain a positive outlook.
And of course he shall do so.
Of course he shall comply.
Between a glass half empty
and one half full,
he always sees the latter.
That has always been his modus operandi.
See the good. See the good. See the good.
Hope. That is the 'buzz word.'
That is the magic tumbler that
will unlock everything.
'It's only cancer, ' he says to himself.
'I'm not the first and won't be the last.'
Take a sip of coffee. Take a sip of
forgetting.
The movie will be over in another hour.
That is when he can consider
the 'action plan.'
A poet is one who envisions, an earth of heavenly bliss where men strive to remain as humans bound in the true religion of humanity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An action plan to prolong existence? To keep being positive when cancer waste the body...resigned to face the truth. Beautiful write, Chris.