Poetry Corner 


This section is dedicated to poerty i wrote during my recovery , this was and is very important to my metal health and willtled down many very long days.

i hope you find as much joy in reading them as i did writing them Jon.

Honest thoughts about my throat cancer treatment


This corridor of hope beckons ahead.
Lungs puffed with air; head full of dread.
Elongated lights our landing strip high.
So full of hope, eyes longing to dry.
Diverted thoughts of lessons with mother.
Telling me just one foot, then the other.
This gown brings relief, it being so cold.
Pressing on skin now looking so old.
All of this just a passage in time.
Nothing is real a distant chime.
The mask is lowered and clamped into place.
Eyes tight shut heart in a race.
Another day over as clothes refitted.
A wreck inside but never admitted.

And So, It Begins


So here it is, chairs in a row.
Clean like new in this morning glow.
This is where our day will start.
In this room adorned with donated art.
This is where answers sought.
Plans will be planned; time will be bought.
This is us, free papers read.
Diverting minds from impending dread.
Nuclear medicine a name in war.
I guess that's the case as never before.
And here it is, my name is called.
As strong as I am, nobody's fooled.

I must not cry, I must not cry


Hush they say to themselves, you know that it’s not me.
Cowardly corner, hugging down on bended knee.
Don’t speak now, hold it in, the stillness that’s in mind.
Desperation prodding, but inside you will find.
Pull that vail down tightly, you can hide deep in lies.
Hush the words spiral that nobody here tries.
Motionless on dry land, motionless at sea.
It’s not where you are right now, but where your thoughts will be.
You can move they say slightly, nothing but a blur in each eye.
A child in a child screaming just longing to cry.
Hey, hey, hold on grab this jacket of pure hope.
It’s the craziness of night and the darkness of doctor’s dope.
Pulled below coping pulled down in this bog.
We’re I'm no superhero, just walking the black dog.

Just Another DayJust Another Day


Another day over and crossed of the date.
Another trip that’s done and locked the rear gate.
Another treatment that’s passed and truly forgotten.
Another thought of dread that’s left at the bottom.
Another opioid taken just to give respite.
Another dark cold soul in this restless night.
Another mind blown apart with such stress and such doubt.
Another test I had passed and didn't fall out.
Another tear wiped away and cream that’s applied.
Another pat on the back this day we survived.
Another day I am burnt but no holiday sun.
Another day to be told "I’m just getting it done!"

Today Will be The Day that Makes It All Different


This morning rises bleeding through blinds.
Time to get up and unbox our minds.
The edge of the bed is my place that I sit.
Contemplating the day with the stiffness and grit.
This day ahead and what it will hold.
The doctors I meet with news to be told.
Right lets go let’s get in gear.
My father would say a boot to the rear.
Ambulance will come, though usually late.
Driving through traffic I will contemplate.
We know what's on the menu today.
Chemo it is, to take cancer away.
Made myself comfy coffee in hand.
Arm has been cleaned, nurse has it planned.
Sharp scratch are words that she has said.
The anxiety is banging drums in my head.
So, this is my day sitting right here.
I will do it with hope.
But a mind that’s unclear.

I Just Didn’t Sign Up for ThisI Just Didn’t Sign Up for This


“Life is so fragile”, Suzie said, and I guess what she says is right.
Fragility surrounds us all and desperation in the night.
Our frightened souls and meekness as mice.
Our aching bodies and gripped pain in vice.
As we ride into battle clenched sword in hand.
My life is not what I had planned.
So, we hold this great Stallion as much as we try.
We scream and shout, out aloud our war cry.
Let this day be drawn to a close and
Leave us a while just to compose.
So, we’ll arrive at our Castle, safely but light.
And sooth this aching body and bid you good night.
For tomorrow we’ll rise into battle once more
And we’ll come home triumphant as never before.
So, let’s stand proud and move away from the wraith.
We have this in hand just keeping the faith.

Ripped MaskRipped Mask


This mask has slipped, slightly ripped.
I’ve also lost my cape.
The elastic worn; one side torn.
Held together with tape.
I hope it stays.
For a few more days.
And I keep good cheer.
Climb out of bed, stop the med.
And finally, no more fear.

My Big Brother Mark


My big bruv, holding my hand.
Holding it tight, this wasn’t planned.
He walks beside me, holding each day.
Just some support to take the pain away.
He is carrying out his big brother’s chores.
Doing it now, as never before.
He’s doing the best that he knows how.
Hand on shoulder of this scared man.
These nights and days I’ve been left in this dark.
What I would give to hold you, Mark.
What I would give for that one more night.
Those long chats where you say, “It’s alright”.
What I would give for the one last game.
Yahtzee, I bet the result just the same.
What I would give for just one been.
But I’d settle right now, just to have you here.

Time, time, time, a passage in life…Time, time, time, a passage in life…


Time itself is causing such strife.
Time to be the passage right now.
Time to turn up if they allow.
Time just a disc hung on a wall.
Time is a noose pulled tightly to fool.
Time is a target striving to add.
Time is a healer to push back the mad.
Time, a place a moment to grow.
Time is a reflection longing to bow.
Time is friend, timing a plan.
Time to mend, a moment to span.
Take time in life to stop and blink.
Take time to breathe, time to think.
Do not govern your own minds eye.
Pause and step aside with time.
Not as a foe, but a unit to climb.
Time is strength, if you allow.
A wrist a pocket or frowned brow.
Live with time, use as point.
Keep time true and straight from disjoint.
Stop, breathe, make time your friend.
Its also a gain just to mend.

The waiting room...


So here we are back in this place.
Minds made up we've cleared a space.
This waiting room of abounded hope.
Of coffee machines and invisible rope.
The Handrail hugged white knuckle grip.
Keeping one stable on this trip.
The wall indents as before.
No labour of love a simple chore.
And floor that’s trod battered with thoughts.
Road map planned with snapped retorts.
Oh, this death like stare of daydreams here.
From people in white holding gripped fear.
Their battering ram has charged once again.
Puffed out cheeks from the hardest rain.
Just grinding of teeth, the noise alone
Then broken dreams from a distant phone.
With Grimaced grin and applied nod.
The soaking feet are fully trod.
But the clock ticks are now so loud.
As waiting rooms identify crowd.
Of Pounding heart it’s almost here.
Gripping under chair in constant fear.
I’m afraid that’s us and being so bold.
For now, it’s what my future must hold.
Exhaustion and the overtaking pain.
But we did it before and we’ll do it again.

Do not forget us…


Until further notice the light is out.
Spark extinguished head of doubt.
All further plans are to be on hold.
All friends and family to be told.
All fun and laughter are past events.
The festivals have empty tents.
All works will have to be put back.
While we prepare to attack.
All the joy and wonder we had planned.
Will be shelved and fully manned.
The lunches out and dinner date.
Are now postponed, empty plate.
The diary full but future bare.
The staying in bed means empty chair.
So just for now we will sit tight.
And for a few months we'll plan this fight.
But do not forget when you are out.
We will return there is no doubt.

Is it cancer…?


So, was it the cancer you did find?
Is that what you had in mind.
Put in brackets 1 to 4.
The use of numbers like never before.
So, was it the cancer you did see?
Already plans being made for me.
And sharp looking back through family tree.
So was it cancer you did spy.
Or was it light playing tricks on eye.
Was it some speck on lens.
Was it playing tricks to amends.
Are you sure it was cancer there?
Are you certain are we aware?
Is there a chance that you mistook.
Have you researched it in that book?
Please say it’s wrong, just make it so.
Say it’s an error you’re free to go.
Say I used cleaned tools that glisten.
I got it wrong you can didn't listen.
Is it cancer is not. Write it down let us plot.
The future wobble so unstable no beer mat under table.
Was it cancer you say, yes, I know, it’s hard to digest.
I can take it; I can be told.
Will I get to grow old?
You say it’s cancer, not some bug.
Now MacMillon are near...with a hug...
It’s cancer...!

Bed rest


The thoughts that walk through your head.
When alone trapped to this bed.
And hours that pass in silent splendour.
The most silent of battles no written surrender.
As the sun that glistens through open blinds.
Through glazed thoughts and pummelled minds.
The distant laugh of a small child.
Reminded times a family smiled.
And the blam of doors from cars that park.
And my woken dreams jumped like a spark.
It’s funny what you hear alone.
The workman outside and thud of a cone.
The bin man that shout and laugh out loud as though one of many in a crowd.
And the silent knock of post man been.
Is a highlighted day of letters unseen.
As the hands slowly move this clock and my work boots sit there in dry dock
As I think back to times of fun when so much belly laugh.

What is the point...


What is the point I’ve often thought.
My life now relies on a care escort.
What is the point in playing this out.
Choices I made are now in doubt.
What is the point of rising each day.
To just sit about and get in the way.
What is the point of just being here.
With my head collapsing and living in fear.
What is the point of the hospital tour.
Just to visit another with a deathly lure.
What is the point of sunrise each day.
Living in pain I’d rather fade away.

There is a point…


Where is that fight.
You have to hold on with all your might.
You have to jump up play out your role.
Set new sights set a goal.
Fight as you can and face up to fear.
Just out of spite make sure that you hear...Where is that fight.
You have to hold on with all your might.
You have to jump up play out your role.
Set new sights set a goal.
Fight as you can and face up to fear.
Just out of spite make sure that you hear...

My morning view


Another quiet moment here is spent.
A clock and its tick of final lament.
Alone with my thoughts in this same old chair.
Out of this window I ponder and stare.
At a sun that rises up here to greet.
Every morning I watch it on repeat.
I perch here and wonder at birds that fly.
Where they go and how to get by.
I look at the lady and the mess she will bag.
And the dog sat beside her like unravelled string bag.
And that gentleman walking with paper under arm.
As he tips his cap with that gentleman charm.
For a moment it's quiet and nothing to view.
So, I contemplate trees as some that are new.
Like regenerated life in front of my face.
Maturing for years in ultimate grace.
As the sun moves behind grey cloud.
This day darkens covered in shroud.
Then of a sudden a chill turns cold.
So, I'll return to bed and do as I'm told.



To wage war alone, is a difficult choice.
A battle cry there in a single voice.
To stand this corner and stand alone.
Without the guidance or being shown.
Would tempt a bellowed decision in rage.
A plan to be set prepare to engage.
To sharpen these tools to be held in each hand.
The attack and retreat with purpose is planned.
So, I have decided the best way to fight.
Is not to just tackle with all of my might.
But to explore a team that is brave and large.
That will gather around and prepare to charge.
This team I will gather with the fullest of force.
And bring the experience to task in due course.
They would have walked each step that I am.
And carried out said task exactly to plan.
To know all the doctors and hospitals too.
The methods and all of the treatments they brew.
They will know all the surgeons and magician’s tricks.
Test the defences and building bricks.
So now that my team is gathered at rear.
I will step out the front and face my whole fear.
For I know now I have back up in spades
For every position I have all of the trades.
So today at clinic will be a day won.
For I know that our fight has just begun.

Can I do it?


10am on the 9th of Jan can i do it you bet I can.
All out of choices all out of time.
The glare of white lights scalpels in line.
Why is the theatre always so cold.
Don’t worry about it just sleep I am told.
10.42, it’s lights out for me.
I hope that this works, oh well we will see.
Right so Let this show begin.
Voice box thyroid and nodes in the bin.
Intensive care at 09.04 the job complete as never before.
I reach through mist hand placed on neck.
Trembling fist wet eyes to check.
Around me machines from the war that took place.
Let’s hope that they won in this cancer race.
Such a haze hangs over my head.
A complete forest mist surrounding this bed.
A realisation in up top of such a big leap.
Cannot hear what was said.
So, I sleep.
I awake once more no notion of time.
As staff are gathered encircled in mime.
It seems as though all of went so well.
They smile and joke while I'm laying in hell.
So, for now I will sleep so deep so hard.
For tomorrow starts a war but with placard.

Please be patient...


Where is the patience that I so desire.
That bit of time I do require.
Where is the time to listen to me.
The rushed sentence setting me free.
Where is that allotted slot.
A chance for me to give what I’ve got.
Where are those minutes just set aside.
The time for one to say that I tried.
Oh, where is the patience to wait like before.
For my tired feet to get to the door.
Oh, please oh please just get of the phone.
You won't though, will you, left on my own.
The frustration itself is what will kill.
And for that dear doc you got no pill.

Mind made up...


These choices that I have given.
Are so totally selfishly driven.
A decision alone that I have made.
My inner head and role portrayed.
It was not snap I thought things threw.
And I have bought it into view.
Well, I could sit here, explain my thinking.
Over this day this day that’s slowly sinking.
But I do not want the answer long.
Or be judged that I’m doing it wrong.
So, I am sorry if a feel with dread.
But my minds made up.
I’m going to BED...!

Stranger reflection....


What is this mirror image seen.
Drawn like shadow of in-between.
This strange face replaces mine.
With this image of borrowed time.
Who is this person I know not.
With besieged skin and time forgot.
Such terrible state with little relief.
And death like pain no gathered grief.
Who is this man I see in two.
This once proud man that we all new.
With baggy eyes and deaf like ears.
The tear-stained cheeks and endless tears.
A weakened man hides from this light.
Just hospital bound and the next fight.

Just numbers...


Wow. So surely this is not the best.
Rushed us in pumping chest.
In a tiny room we stand and face,
Just 3 seats, alone, what space.
Sat us down in anticipation.
Left us sitting, desperation.
A decision now to be made.
Not expectant, so afraid.
You see these posts have now moved.
Choices left, that have been proved.
Three day answer must be given.
mind is racing but not driven.
So, lets write all this down.
There’s no joke, unemployed clown.
I know it’s numbers that they said.
No longer a 3 but 4 instead.
You may well ask what happens next.
Apparently, appointment in a text.
Just 3 days left to decide.
if I want to stay or just hide.
Just 3 days so they prepare.
And I’m still blank in this chair.
Just staring on straight ahead.
Whole body now filled with dread.
My soul and being put on spin.
I just cannot take it all in.
Voice box cancer that has spread.
Thyroid now involved they said.
So just chemo and rads are no good
Cut it out will win or should.
Right okay, we have a plan.
Once we have that final scan.
A 9 hour op to remove it all.
I think I have just hit that wall.
6 weeks rads 2 chemo follow.
I’m finding this now hard to swallow.
I really just cannot think.
I’m being rushed prepared to sink.
Just hold on, let’s take five.
And do what's needed to survive.
I am clearly here right out of choice.
So, I’ll be quiet and lose my voice...

Black dog the return


As morning rises so do you.
These thoughts from dreams bought into view.
Already know the fight ahead.
No calm for me planned trauma instead.
With contemplation balanced I sit for meds.
Can no longer be trusted, tiptoed treads.
Understanding not, from parties here.
Seated this person that’s held so dear.
Just no recognition of wars in my head.
Investigation closed unfiltered dread.
No blame is given to those so near.
No taking of gospel on how I appear.
Do not be fooled to my exterior paint.
Any second now mental restraint.
But I am upright and fully clothed.
Ready for outside fully loathed.
First chore of the day that used to be loved.
Is a trip to the field hands fully gloved.
Boots on high I used to welcome the bog.
Inside was white now outside black dog.

I cry alone.


The 2am rain, that drives me insane.
Reminds I’m awake again.
When I cry, I cry so alone.
This hart in confidence have flown.
I cry in this mind that is pure fear.
Of Uninvited thoughts that always sit here.
In my space a corner that is mine.
Wind Bent trees as in defiant time.
Those full-on winds that batter so hard.
Tissues soaked with full bombard.
I cry, I sob into my hands.
I cry at all the undone plans.
I cry, I cry, I cry in pain.
That things will always be in vein.
The late-night drinks we did enjoy.
The blaring music will now destroy.
The lounge times we’d dance and sing.
Remember the joy that it would bring.
The times we call that cab at 4.
Just a small beer 1 or 2 as before.
Normally the first to arrive.
For every night is ours to thrive.
Even the times that we did row.
My speech gets blocked so won’t allow.
You know I never cry, with joy.
Just that I’m still here to annoy.
Though crying days are numbered some.
Hopefully soon be finished, done.
For I am almost dry inside
I cry I cry and then I cried.
And always by my feet he lied.
And joined in chorus that I cried.

My thoughts on radiotherapy


I will sketch this out so all can see.
This living hell of dignity.
This un-ironed shirt and water wiped shoes.
Couldn't care slacks and face that’s bemused.
This unkempt look of a dismayed man undressed.
Such visits of this full plan.
So, pyjamas will stay our home garment of choice.
No wear to go so at least my voice.
No special days that are worked for.
No indentations upon our front door.
The phone sits silent gathering dust.
Her make up’s away in utter disgust.
My hats that I took so long to decide.
The only water seen is what I cried.
Our diary date the pages blank.
Unless appointments made with cancer to thank.
So, we’ll sit here again waiting for name.
It’s what we do every day, the same.
So here I am called todays planned trip.
To be pinned down again in vice like grip.

The whole of mankind


So, I look to the window and spy at this race.
So many attending but only see my face.
Now I decided to pick and concentrate on just four.
Given Undivided attention as never before.
You see we must follow each run into place.
As it will be over so quick with a blinked missed chase.
Shall we pick a name or number them each.
There is a lesson buried here to teach.
No 1 the chap in the running on the left.
Going so slowly left totally bereft.
Next is 2 he’d almost collide.
Just managed with luck to stay to one side.
Next is the 3 now this chap has some room.
He should go well with this space we'd, presume.
But up pops the four with this crowd will produce.
All gathered together one heck of a boost.
So, what have we learned if any from this.
I feel some lessons are not to be dismissed.
1 and 2 being that I feel must be right.
Slow and steady so competition light.
So, Number 3 has pushed others aside.
To stay on their own with such speed applied.
Now that just leaves number four, who asks for help like never before.
The crowd joins in and holds him up.
strength in numbers to bring home the cup.
We may only be watching this as in rain.
But life’s lessons are always a masters to gain.
As the drops run down in this imperfect row.
It’s being together that makes us all grow.
It’s just water on windows that’s guiding those raced.
there is no recording whatsoever so never to be traced.
Take all of the help that is offered in this life combined.
That’s the one thing that we can teach, the whole of mankind.

Once charming man


Battered points of scarring chest.
Fatigues worn out in noble test.
A limped man.
In a forward pose.
Of acquired taste of daily doze.
Hunched over stick best stay upright.
Not wining battles but first to fight.
Wind wet eyes in ignored steam.
No hanky search.
For this daydream.
Collar coat up but just one side.
Shows a defeated soul that only tried.
Buttons missing number 1 and 4 the coats wind is in just as before.
Drawn in cheek and jowl drooped applied.
Stubble at work but does not hide.
The apple is large you could not miss.
But would you want to just dismiss.
The wood is wet but welcomed relief.
Of a face mapped out and etched with grief.
For here a life lived in an outstretched soul.
Of a pet that is fed from a large, chipped bowl.
For none of us know how heavy the heart
Of an elderly gent who played life's part.
So do not dismiss and idly judge or offer a seat and passed begrudge.
Here a man that’s had a printed pass.
Half full or empty yet still a glass.

Attitude, the answer


Saluted sharp lined the wall weapons of choice displayed.
Stood in fear confusion scratched and totally dismayed.

The silence pours across this divide for a moment only glared.
For the news of impending strength that searched has just been shared.

Bent over tables, maps surveyed lines of routes to take.
With everything out up-front decisions with no mistake.

Eyes are blurred under such bright light as positions are employed,
Things put plain and simple here of soul searching that’s destroyed.

Arise sir from this plastic chair and bid your not goodbye.
For we will soon meet again with weapons I will supply.

Adjusted jacked collected bag as now our exit right.
Handle stiff appointments made as we planned our future fight.

Perpendicular poise for now as shoulders back we grin.
For tomorrow is our biggest day as the future will begin.

Who shall we raise our cries to in defiance with this dancer.
Cancer is our enemy here and attitude is our answer.



When you leave the comfort of this hospital zone.
And they pack your bags and send you home.
When good luck is wished, and door is closed.
With orders sent and fully imposed.
Not even walked from hospital ground.
Just Feels like a push with no future found.
A check is made for the full medication.
Then "you’re going to be ok" without hesitation.
So, ushered to exit through corridors and stairs.
With pats on the back and no dam cares
Body altered to breath and pain that's given.
Advice to be pushed and entirely driven.
The depression that's felt in patient that leaves
Comes from the staff and compassion that he receives.
I do understand it' your 9 to 5.
But for me right here was my path to survive.