Kindness of strangers

For Ray Ferrer
Waltzing licks of flames of kindness
Butterfly descending on soul in darkness
Chink of light in deep black well
Not laughing
I am dying
Not many perks to cancer
Except kindness of strangers
Warm blanket wrapped round homeless soul
Squeeze of the hand
Tissue to wipe your tears
A lifeline thrown

Posted on July 28, 2013, in No Wine or Men, Poetry and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 6 Comments.

  1. Thank you! This is an honor and my wife and I both love it!

  2. Beautifully written, sad but hopeful with the kindness of strangers. I know many people with cancer. My heart goes out to you.


  3. Thanks for your comforting words; a perfect illustration of the kindness of strangers.
    Once is unlucky, twice is careless – of course I don’t do things by halves; endured recurrence after almost brushing the finishing line of 10 years cancer free with my fingertips. It could be you and it’s you, congrats, you were such a good host the last time I’ve come back for seconds.

    Recurrence was a walk in the park compared to being dumped by the man I’d been with for 18 years and the father of my child, just when I felt half human again and sighed a breath of relief; phew we have survived the crisis, we’ll be alright now as a family, we are still intact, no one has gone totally insane, well, perhaps with the exception of me. But then I have always struggled with depression, so hubby dearest already sees me as ‘mad’ and ‘paranoid, not to be taken seriously to or worth listening too.

    Boy did he choose the perfect timing. Never a good time for pure rejection, no Other Womna, no just couldn’t stand to spend another minute being married to me. So ended up back on the floor in a heap having clawed my way inch by inch up to crouching position.

    To top it all he had to kick me when I was down, a sobbing wailing mess. Pointed the finger squarely on my bald head: business failed cos of my recurrence, couldn’t concentrate on turning it around, oh dear, how inconvenient, excuse me wasn’t a bundle of fun for me either. Wasn’t you who had poison pumped into your veins 6 times with break of 3 weeks each cycle so it doesn’t kill you, kinda defeats the point, right? Made him piggy in the middle with his family; he always sided with them which hurt me deeply even when they went into the back of me while driving in a convoy and their disrespect towards me. Nope I’m the problem, would be easier if I didnt go with him to Holland to visit, just him and the daughter off on his Harley to Harwich. Did he ever consider how I felt seeing their backs ride off into the sunset excluding me?

    I shouldn’t have been so shocked by the final rejection, betrayal. Apart from the first few years, my marriage was a series of a sliding scale of let downs and disapppointment and mini/maxi rejections. You know after 18 years sleeping next to him I never knew him, not the real him with the mask off. Can the real K stand up please? You’ll see there’ll be half a dozen all getting to their feet. Take your pick. All round good chap? Helpful friend prepared to go out of his way to help even without being asked? Perfect husband? Super Dad? Sadistic bastard who kept putting me down in private and public masking it as a tease but wrapped with poisoned darts? Violent bad tempered idiot who would smash things on the patio intimidating you without actually touching you, cos he is too smart, he knew he would be in trouble with the law. This way no evidence, just my word against his and who would believe me, someone who has been depressed on and off throughout her marriage? Co-incidence?

    Sorry when you left your comment you did not bargain for this rant and half a novel. Hope you don’t mind, just need to get it out so it is not eating me up inside and causing depression to return as I have fought hard to be ok. That is why I write so many ‘woe am I’ poems, doesn’t change an iota, but it’s a release, gives me back my voice when I was made to shut up and shape up.

    Irony it wasn’t me who had enough of this emotional abuse and character asassination, no, it was the jailer who got bored, unlocked the cage but the dumb bird begged to stay … Better the devil you know, the familiar feels oh so safe … The prison guard has buggered off to his shiny new life and even more sparkling love, his soul mate apparently, from the self published volume of love poems dedicated to her on the cover on sale on Amazon?Kindle.
    Finally found the one. Ah excuse me so what was I? Just a free domestic slave pretending I was happily married and loved?

    I’ll stop now or you’ll be running for the woods screaming. I have this effect on people.

    Btw you never did tell me how you got involved with the homeless? Thanks for listening; sorry you are the captive audience. I have found this community extremely supportive, caring and thought provoking. I only joined to write, to seek an audience to hear my pain. I have gained far more, the precious gift of ‘connection’, of being heard, truly heard and understood, empathy, once again from total strangers.

    Isn’t it a twisted world? People who have never laid eyes on you in person and most likely never will offer you the hand of friendship, compassion and love than the man you would have taken a bullet for without the slightest hesitation? The father of your only child, the man you were going to grow old with and love till the end of your days or his.

    Much much love Cho Wan x

  4. Thx for following, Cho Wan. I know of someone who suffered the similar disease. I can totally relate to it. Keep in touch, strong one.

    Hugs + kisses,

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