Carly Simon

I had a mastectomy in 1998, and then chemo.

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Father's Day.

These are three little rhymes made up in 1998 fror home made 'Father's Day' cards that the kids and I made for their dad.

I'm wishing for my father,
(Who ain't really that bad) ,
All he could ever want today,
So Happy Dad's day Dad.


Today I want to party,
Today I want to play,
But today I'm gonna be good,
Because it's Father's Day.


Dearest darling hubby,
I wish you all the best,
And when you come to bed tonight,
I'll rid you of your vest.

Dearest darling hubby,
That's all I've got to say,
So I'll go and wish to you,
A Happy Father's Day.

Father's Day 1998.

poem by Lizzy TomlinsonReport problemRelated quotes
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On Going Trials

Feeling well and then my friend, will this illness ever end?
From feeling well, I soon fall, back insides hospital walls,
Being home or there I know, God is with me wherever I go,
Carried to an emergency ward, within the arms of my Lord.

If it’s not bad enough for me, living daily, with neuropathy,
While infection rears its head, I’m back into a hospital bed,
All effects from my therapy; what the chemo’s done to me,
Lowering my body’s immunity, I lean on the God of eternity.

Since my chemo has finished, my abilities have diminished,
Like the ability, of each hand, and my ability to firmly stand,
But, I continue trust in the Lord, by who these aren’t ignored,
While, I lean upon my faith, that He’ll give me needed Grace,

Grace that helps me every day, as each trial comes my way,
Along with a supportive wife, who is with me, in all the strife,
While we fix our eyes on Christ, Who, controls our entire life,
Each and every waking hour, all, by God’s Grace and Power.

Traveling upon this weary road, Jesus Christ shares the load,
The load of burdens, which I face, by His all sufficient Grace,
Even at times truly carrying me, in ways I did not think or see,
God’s with me, there’s no denial, through this very weary trial.

(Copyright ©08/2011)

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Remedial Law Prof

remedial law prof
has cancer of the prostate

he has enough
of life: five children practicing

their professions and 8 grandchildren
to cheer him up

he is 78
and he says he is complete

no chemo
no surgery
nothing

saw him this pm
teaching still as if the bad news is nothing

living life
and giving it the chance to end itself
with all grace.

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Butterfly

'Wait a little while.'
You whisper in my ear
fluttering over my body
I roll over
to let you know
it's understood.

(02-22-1998)

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The first time we all played as a band, I think it was in January 1998, in Jonny's bedroom.

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On the political side, I was the Democratic nominee for the Governor of Tennessee in 1970 and 1998.

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I got bitten by the free software bug in February of 1998 around the time of the Mozilla announcement.

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There was a tremendous amount of disappointment in missing the World Cup finals in 1998, so they're getting excited about this one and I really think we could do well in the Far East.

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Yes, after some time spent last year on other commitments, most of them speaking engagements, I am now about halfway through a novel that I hope will come out in 1998.

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Since 1998, the Administration has begun to upgrade counterintelligence and security at U.S. weapons labs.

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Mom Chose Me

Mom was four months pregnant with me,
When she got the very bad news.
She had cancer malignancy.
To treat there was no time to lose.
Mom needed chemo right away,
If there was to be hope at all,
To keep the cancer spread at bay.
An abortion was a must call.
But, Mom said it would have to wait
Till I was safe and sound outside.
I came at the earliest date.
Mom held me close before she died.

My Mom gave all that she could give,
So that I could be born and live.

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And then I graduate two years later, in 1998, with my class. And, since then I've been here in Houston for training basically. And I was very happy to be assigned to this mission.

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When is it too late to say it's still early for the Cubs? Try now. Their magic number is 1998, at least until it becomes 1999, but in lieu of a present, they offer you a future.

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Fierce Mooning

Trotting along; fighting death -
with delaying techniques.
Chemo had failed.

Weeping Ashoka, how do I
name you differently?
I may not see you again.

I am hurt, very badly.
Absolutely rooted, firmly
in autumn. My leaves were falling.

Pushing back the interface
between smiles and tears;
the trespasser goes to moon.

It was traditional,
garlanding the poet-
who had killed his muse.

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A Robert Hass prose-poem impertinently versified

Hassless

For a summer week he watched her;
she watched him watching her.

He wrote his music; thought of her,
sixtyish, Japanese; flat-breasted like a boy;

she brushed her paintings; thought of him,
young, eyes like an untamed pony;

he grew to love the discipline in her painting;
she loved straightway his wild indiscipline.

That warm night when, on her tidy, well-swept doorstep,
music yet unwritten met rice-paper yet to be inked,

she told him of her mastectomy;
he looked her in the eye; held hands; and bid goodnight.

The blue bowl on his porch the morning after
full of rose-petals; underneath, dead bees.

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The hiatus you spoke about happened in 1998. I was somewhat numb from being out on the road every night. I had to stop because I was emotionally and physically drained.

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Above Ground

I have a debilitating disability
I'm bald as cue ball from Chemo Therapy.
When I walk I wobble.
And most time my mate is a pain in the butt.
With all that going on you’d think my head be bowed.
My face would have a grief stricken look.
But I hold my head high,
and there's a smile on my face.
You know why, because
I'm still above ground.


This poem is dedicated to my neighbor and Friend Mrs. Pat Elias

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In 1998, I founded the American Center for Law and Justice, probably the premier public interest law firm in America defending the rights of believers.

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Why did the Clinton Administration wait from 1995 to 1998 to tighten security and bolster counterintelligence at U.S. weapons labs?

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Fight like a Girl

Before he spoke, I think I knew,
but did not dare to say its name.
The swollen lymph node was a clue
My self exam told much the same.

Twenty eight and newly wed-
What will my husband say and do?
I face the loss of both my breasts.
Will he leave me? Are we through?

When I am ripped apart by knife
for my double mastectomy.
Will I no longer be his wife?
Will he no more lie close to me?

Where once I had such golden hair
A bright bandanna I will wear.
I’ve put my trust in my Physician
To chart the course and gain remission

My prognosis remains uncertain-
We don’t know yet if it has spread.
The doctors fear I’ll be infertile,
I’ll be a favorite Aunt instead.

When fighting like a girl, I battle
Many nights I question “why? ”
The monster seeks to test my mettle.
First defeat it, and then I'll cry.

For Jeanette, our favorite aunt, forever in our hearts.

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