Storm of the NET the stress of cancer

Possession: a reading


This Poem, possession was written to help convey the things I experienced while in the hospital.  It is a part of a poem series called the Tale of Carcinoid.


A poem by Shawn White

Through a clear plastic tube, a stream of poisonous goo dripped from my side.

When they pushed their scalpel against my flesh,  it opened the barrier between life and death.

It created a spirit bound wound open to the world of the living.

The sharpened knife created a cavernous cave, a hole filled with the black flies of oblivion.  They swarmed and spat, eating my breathing flesh with their vomit.

From this wound, my ego soaked doctors ate the blood caked flies from my lung, carving out and consuming the festering rat king from my chest.

Slowly I opened my eyes from this eternally dark dream.  With tears streaming down my face I stared on.

I stared on at an amorphous blob as it plopped out from the darkness.  Like smoldering tar it dripped from the ceiling.   Its skin was slick and rigid and hard to the touch.

Spindles reminiscent to a spider’s arms covered its slug like face.   Dark tentacles poured from its mouth, writhing and lashing.

It looked on at me with beady black eyes.  Its leeching gaze consumed me, latching hooks into my flesh,  it pulled me deeply into it’s bottomless pit of despair.

It hovered.  It taunted me with whispers and growls.  Its wings floated, swimming in the air like water.

The tips of its tendrils slid across my skin, reaching into the slice in my side.  It felt like slippery sand paper driving a hot iron between my ribs.  It sat on my chest, pressing into my sternum.  Its weight made each breath a struggle for air.

It pressed its face against mine, holding me in place.  Steadily and slowly it forced itself into my mouth.  I could feel its anger, its madness, its frenzied hatred… become mine.


For More

If you would like to read another poem feel free to click here.  I hope your heart zones are filled with super sauce!


The Cold Air of Treatment


Its akin to sprawling out on your bed with clean soft sheets wrapped around you.  When suddenly as you roll to the side you hear a soft but noticeable pop.  You look toward the corner of the bed, you know the sound  before you see it.  The sheet has come loose from the mattress.  You lay there for a moment, you could get up and remake the bed and sure, yeah it might make the experience more comfortable, but you are guaranteed to lose the comfort you currently have.

In a lot of ways this is how cancer is.  It sucks that the bed is slowly unraveling, but if you choose to try and fix it, you are guaranteed to lose something you currently have.

I love the feel of a warm bed in the morning, to have those soft clean sheets wrapped around my body.  To feel my foot slip out into the cold air, then slowly slide back into the comfort of my bundled blankets.

Eventually you will get up and fix the sheets, you will have the motivation or purpose to do whatever it is that you choose to do.  No matter what the decision is, it comes with a hefty price.  When it comes to cancer, there are no small prices to pay.

Last night I had a nightmare.  While sleeping beside my beautiful young lady friend my mind was wracked with terrible feels and dream sights.  I was in my home, this one and the house I grew up in.  Water was pouring in from the sky above and it was dripping through the ceiling and seeping through the floor.  Everything was falling apart, no matter how much I worked to rid my home of the water it continued pour.

I can remember distinctly feeling like no matter what I did, no matter what changes I made, the water would continue to be.  It would be there even if I left the house, change the roof or rebuild the floor.  I didn’t want to leave, yet at the same time I didn’t want to continuously struggle to fix everything.  Especially when everything was destined to be destroyed by the unstoppable force of the water.  My home would be uncomfortable to live in with the warped floors and wet ceilings, but that life would be better than to be cut to pieces, burned and chemically transformed.

The parallel here is that the water is the cancer and the home is my body.  I want to live, I want to live life to its fullest.  Whatever choices I choose to make in regard to my life is so that I can have the opportunity to experience it as it was meant to be enjoyed.  To make the best of what was given to me, to use what was given to me to help others and leave behind a legacy that helps others in my absence.

Selecting your treatment options should be considered with great thought. I believe it is important to consider what we will have after the surgery or treatment.  What are we giving up to have life, how much life do you need to have the experiences you want, and who’s wants are you following anyways?

Throughout my journey I found myself being pushed down roads that weren’t my own.  People manipulated me to do their wants, convincing me to believe that their wants were my wants.  This can take form in many ways, but the focus here is on your treatment.  When your loved ones or doctors are pressuring you to do something you don’t want to, its like having those warm blankets ripped from you, forcing you to be exposed to the cold air.

Those blankets are yours, they are yours to do with as you see fit.  Get out of bed and peel off those sheets by your terms.  Stand up for yourself, be your own advocate and choose your treatment for you, not for the wants of someone else, be it your wife, child or doctor.  Right now we only have one life to live, live it by your terms.

The Empty Hand

The Empty Hand 8/23/2016


It was early, the sun sat outside the tiny window beyond the reach of the bed.  The air was cold, but my hand was warm.  Warmed by the hand, the touch of one that was familiar.

The time of the clock clicked seven and the hand released me as my eyes slipped away into a great, deep sleep.  I was alone.


Waking I was frightened, I knew no one.  I looked for the hand that held mine, but her hand was gone, alone I was left.

Ghosts moved this way then that way.

I was confused and concerned.

They laid me forward, crowding around me, a pause was heard, then nothing.


The nothing lasted only a moment, behind it came the tight tug of something

The something was a hot sting, a tingling numbness, a strange sensation that with the touch of breath’s air transformed.

An echo of pain slipped through me, rattling my inside like quaking walls.

The first droplets of pain were soft, like the pitter patter of a light rain, but with each cloud that billowed from the abyss the storm grew greater.


The droplets were hot, like the lick from the kiss of boiling grease.

The storm ravaged, the burning became steel as it melted through my nerves, I could feel the heat eat away at everything that made me me.

Fear overcame me, I could not hold back the terror, my hand thrashed to find that hand, the hand, the hand who had left me.

It was the first time I felt alone, the first time I was alone.  Placed within the blanket of darkness, to face the punishment for my innocent benevolence, I would be consumed by Molten steel that was forced and flowed through me,

A pain, an agony that reigned till darkness I was filled…


With time comes forgiveness

With time comes change

Though my heart was burned from the inside out, I accepted her and her fear, I forgave the hand that deserted me.


Submerged in the silken, slick water

Lowered from the abrasive, bitter world that I battled

I felt a soft touch, the ease of its place, the peace of its harmony


I could feel my skin revitalize,

I could feel the spin stop,

And my breath soften


I could see again, for the first time

I could feel again, for the first time

I could live again, for the first time.


Returning to this world, my eyes were open and my heart washed

I saw a new place, a new time

A land of boundless opportunity, endless love and immeasurable beauty


Emerging, stepping from the oiled water I looked to the horizon, My eyes turning to those who had walked with me, to those who had held and forgotten my hand,

And I walked forward.


The Lady in the Isle of Hope

The Lady in the Isle of Hope 8/23/2016


I’ve never felt a connection so profound

A heart power with so much pull

An immortal love transcending time and space and spirit of man


Lost in the sea of specters, she was my isle of hope.

She held in her hand a glowing lantern, that lit her innocent smile.

And guided me to her arms


Never in my life have I experienced such profound love

Such fullness of heart

Such a trueness of person


She was my soft guide, my angel of peace

With a smile and the nearness of her heart, she would ease my fear,

For a moment I could forget my terrors and set aside my agony


Her heart would heal me

It would shield me from the winds of horror that kicked glass and sand into my flesh.

With her touch she would raise me above the boiling sea of despair

With her hands she would cover my ears, hiding me from the screams bellowing from the sea of lost souls.



The Angel and father of wisdom

The Angel and father of wisdom 8/23/2016

Heart pain dripped from my eye, a darkness wreathed me in its frigid grasp.

Alone I was nothing, but among my angels I would strengthen


My legs were weak and my eyes were clamped closed.

The light of the afternoon sun burned in the sky above.

He was a gentle hand, the guidance of a father, the wisdom of a true soul.


His strength carried me, his love walked with me, his wisdom led me.

I felt safe beside him.


As my lung wept with exhaustion, he consoled me.

He told me stories and shared to me his soul.

A life long ago lived and the new adventures of life


My eyes watered as I looked at my angel of wisdom, my angel of guidance.

My words were brittle and my power weak.

“Angel of Wisdom.”  I paused.  “Angel of Guidance.”  My head slumped forward.  I felt a weight in my chest.

“My life, I feel as though I have squandered my time here.”  I looked to my angel.  “Have I wasted my whole life?  Have I touched others and left a mark in their heart?”


A pause moved through the air as my angel looked into the distance.

I could feel his heart align with mine, “I have been around the world.  I have met many people.  I would say that you’re ahead of the game.”  My angel spoke to me.


Tears welled within me and I wiped them away.

My angel of wisdom, my angel of guidance

My wayward traveling friend

My friend, the father of all souls.

You gave me the strength when I had none

You inspired light as I sat in darkness


You are my friend, my father, a love of my life I shall always remember

From the waking days of my life to the ethereal walk of death you will always be remembered, you are my wisdom, you are my father

You are the truest of all true souls

And my beacon to life.



My Champion, my Protector, my Archon

My Champion, my Protector, my Archon 8/23/16


He was a soft voice in the darkness, a man with a sweet smile.

He told me stories and made me laugh.

He held my hand as I cried.

He held my hand as I screamed.

He held my hand as he watched me in agony.


He was my guardian angel, my archon on the people.

With his slick words and call to action,

He eased hearts of those who saw me as evil


He brought loads of coffee, placing them into the hands who were hurt by me.

He told them stories of great glee.

He was the champion of the evil within me.


My guardian Angel

My guardian Angel  8/23/16

She was my person, my champion, my guardian.

She fed me, clothed me and stood against the forces of hell for me.

She carried her rallying horn and built an army of angels to stand beside her, to protect me.

She held my hand, laid beside me and told me stories.  She kept me there, even when I was ready to go.

She anchored me when I began to float away.

She pulled me in when I felt I had nothing left to give.