Tony Snow's Cancer Spreads to Liver
"His attitide is one that he is not going to let this whip him," Mr. Bush said.
"My attitude is that we need to pray for him."
Yes. No person deserves cancer.
Cancer does not discriminate.
My hope and good wishes go out to Mr. Snow and his family in their time of need.
Cancer took my uncle.
Cancer took my moms best friend.
Cancer has always taken. It never gives.
Best wishes, Tony Snow.
I hope, like my father did three times, you are able to again defeat it.
The Perfect Monster Kills Quietly
June 19, 2006
"I have never seen... double and triple cancers in one patient... My wife has nine members of her family with cancer"-- Iraqi doctor.
When anyone makes nuclear energy or nuclear weapons, a massive amount of radioactive waste is created. In the U.S., Depleted Uranium is harnessed by the government as a component for bombs, shells and automatic weapons bullets.
Nuclear waste remains radioactive for billions of years, contaminating ground, water and air, causing cancer, birth defects and death, although DU is allegedly "safe" for humans, according to Pentagon scientists (irony being the weapons are still meant to kill).
D.U. is now everywhere in Iraq: (and much of Afghanistan) bullets made with uranium lay in the residential streets, neighborhoods in Baghdad and Fallujah have been bombed with uranium weapons... and doctors in Iraq have taken notice.
Carries no good over the blazing ground.
Or has mind to think.
(The thinking’s been done.)
Pause.
Now metastasize.
The piercing downburst of steel.
Escaping from the burning center.
The stench of might.
Eyeless armed forces marching past.
Turmoil in the suffocating shamal.
Pause.
Metastasize again.
Shrapnel punctures the gaping eye.
Living splinters like imploding shells.
(Thin casings cannot hold such weight.)
Pause.
Metastasize again.
The vortex of dust settles into us.
The human shield bends.
Will our hope shatter?
Will freedom?
Can all men be liberated?
Pause.
Metastasize again.
The pulse of war thrums.
The embattled echo in turn.
This is war, America.
(Over there so we don’t see.)
Pause.
Metastasize again.
Perhaps the light will expand.
The warmth open.
Light extend over and envelop.
Humanity clamber up and cleanse.
Empire turn and pass away.
The strength of peace find its legs.
A small child to live another day.
The wish of every one heaved against loss.
Might this be;
Joy over the yoke of obscurity?
Pause.
Metastasize again.
Little energy is expended in love.
Only fools find love oppressive.
Love drudges not our fear.
Loving is free.
Love may lift the hate from all.
Love isn’t war. Love isn’t peace.
It is free
(Perhaps the only thing that is.)
Pause.
Metastasize again.
We need remove the shards of our own terror,
The one we inflict, not the one we dread.
Joy will soar and love caress.
It is the greatest power we have.
Not knives and guns and bombs.
Not gas and tanks and planes.
Not armies marching in victorious formations.
And metastasize again.
© 2007 mrp/thepoetryman
