TomO

Trish,   Am I even close???
“Submissions from the Gut, gist for the Halibut” (with details of “tumor bait” for fishing expedition to be discussed.)
Submissions from the Gut-
Participation requires you’ve had at least one ct scan,
and yer spouse, significant other, be (s)he woman or man.
Those who bring tissue, entrails or significant tumor,
will be receive complimentary drinks, lavish furnishings
and be be the brunt of gist humor.
If you are squeemish about bait, whether missie or mister,
bait tying lessons will be given by a master bait gister.
If meetings aren’t for you, but you still like to fish,
Gist come to Orlando and we’ll get ye yer wish.
Don’t sit there at home, and be stuck in your rut,
Come to “Submissions from the gut…gist for the halibut”.

To those I’ve offended with reprobate rhyme, I tender appologies to you one more time.  It’s just that I am desperate, this contest to win and hoping to see….(you guessed it…here it comes)
a halibut fin………….
TomO., Toledo, Ohio

LIFE FEST DRESS COD…(no that is a fish…funny how one letter can make a tail fishy)

To dress or not to dress, that is the query,

Norm wants to see Vince naked…now I’m getting’ leery.

Who would recognize Palmer with out a wild shirt?

A low neck sweater for Louise, who so likes to flirt.

Dress shoes for Tobes, he is such a fine dresser,

And a pink moo-moo for____, you’ll just have to guess her.

We’ll see Trish in a bonnet with a purple ganoo,

And jeans upon Vince, for he looks good in blue.

John Poss in his boots, with a ten gallon hat,

Perhaps Anita in a mini, yes, I like her like that.

Perhaps you’ll see Mel in grass skirt and brim,

It’s because he’s a Heller, they look good on him.

And Norm in a suit, he’s all prim and he’s proper,

I’m just wearing a clam shell and it’s a big whopper.

Dress codes, they’re for tuna, They don’t mean a darn,

Just come to Orlando, but please wear some yarn.

Without them, we could shirtlessly sit in some bars,

and compare and contrast our gist cancer scars.

Just come as you are, or come as you’ll be,

It’s the smile and the glow of the faces you’ll see.

I don’t think it matters, the clothes that you wear,

The invite is open, come naked if you dare.

This diversion if funny, but I’ll tell you what,

Just come to Orlando…(you should have seen this coming)

GIST for the HALIBUT…….

HaHa, got you there….even if I didn’t win the contest, it is still a great line…Have fun in Orlando.  I cannot make it.  I will miss you all.  Love and Halibut fins to you all….

TomO., Toledo, Ohio

 Lonely Man’s Lament

It is June 30th now, the summer’s flown by

and now it is nearly the fourth of July.

Its been lonely for me in 2003,

so I’ve just kept as busy as I ever can be.

As I sit here and try to write you some prose,

I flood with emotion, it’s hard to compose.

This respite should be such a joyous good time…

but not a word is spoken of these tumors of mine.

No words, no smiles or holding of hands,

no dinners, or dancing or making of plans.

There are no cold bars which hold me so tight,

I got stuck in this place without much of a fight.

There’s a house, not a home, that I go to each night

and everyone knows that something ain’t right.

All together/alone is the way that we live

and sooner or later something’s gotta give.

I can do what I want, come and go as I please,

but I can’t go nowhere with this doggone disease.

There’s no one to talk to, to share all my fears,

no one to get drunk with and spill all my beers.

no one to skip with and play loop de loo…

no one to cry with or to say “I love you”.

I wanna stand up and shout, just as loud as I can.

I’m here. I am with you and I am your man!

I wanna camp in the woods and do things in the night…

for today is a present and I’m feeling alright.

I wanna sail in Lake Erie with wind in my hair,

sunbathe naked on a boat, without any care.

I wanna cut things of wood and glue em together,

I wanna dance before breakfast…as light as a feather.

I wanna sing to you now…love songs for sure…

its the music that soothes and brings on a cure…

It will set your soul free and tickle your neck…

help you go senseless so you say “what the heck”?

Play rock and roll music at dawn’s early light,

chocolate pudding for breakfast is such a delight!

I wanna drown some worms at the bottom of the lake,

sense the smell of cookies in the oven as they brown and they bake.

I wanna take all my ties and cut em in half,

weave them into a rug, just for a laugh.

I wanna lay on a hill side, watch clouds rolling by

and talk about stuff while we laugh and we cry.

These are some of the things that I would just do,

if we were a couple again…just me and you.

Tom Overley, June 30, 2003

TWO CANDLES

As I sat down to my computer tonight, a match in hand and candle to light,
I thought about Jerry, whom I did not know, yet his passing away has touched
me so.
Some time has passed since I sat fore a flame, and each time I know I will
do it again,
I try to forget between lightings you see, deep down I wonder, who’s next,
will it be me?
The candle’s a symbol, a light in the dark, to honor our friend and remember
his spark.
Close your eyes and gaze at the light,  and remember our dear friend and his
valiant fight.
So I opened the digest to scan through the notes, and much to my sorrow, I
saw Norman’s posts.
What can be said, what can I write, to add meaning to reading of Dean’s
passing tonight?
I don’t know what to write or to say to you, but the candles distract me for
now there are two.

Like our lives, they flicker and warm, one bobs and weaves like a boat in
the storm,
while the other is quiet, almost  still form.
A most unlikely group you and I, yet we hold each other close when we see
out friends die.
We are brown, white, yellow and red.  Some work with their hands or their
minds, some are dancing with NED.
Yet we are all on the raft and we’re in this together.  We balance the craft
in all kinds of weather.
So tonight we say goodbye to our good friends, Jerry and Dean, and we lift
you up and entrust you, if you know what I mean.
We will miss you, your sharing and caring, but we will carry your flame and
live life with your daring.
Life can be short, there’s no guarantee, that the sunset tomorrow will be
one that we see.
Do all that you can.  Make the world a better place.  Perhaps we will make
it to the end of this race.
It’s time now for bed and extinguish the pair and send Blessings and thanks
to the families of Jerry Sifrid and Dean Gordanier.

Tom Overley, Toledo, Ohio dx gist 07/04/00, removal grapefruit sputnik and
sm. bowel resection  with clean margins 7/10/00, no adjuvant gleevec and no
recurrance to 10/02 with liver mets…600mg gleevec with shrinkage,
currently 5 mets to liver and stable

Little Girls by TGO 06-23-07

My little girls have grown your see, and now they want to fly,

The danger of the fall is naught, they really want to try,

Yet, daddy always sheltered them, to keep them safe from harm,

And kept them all around the nest, its safer on the farm.

“I want to soar above the clouds, see treetops from the sky,

How can I learn to be myself, if I never even try?

You’ve taught me right from wrong, guided me along the way,

And now I seek to venture out. I want to fly today.”

This frightened me to let her go, from shelter of my wing,

‘Cuz all of my protections, didn’t seem to mean a thing.

They’re just my little babies. I’m their safety net, you see.

To let them fly without the net, came on to fast for me.

Just like discarded training wheels, and running down the drive,

“Don’t let me go yet daddy, I want to stay alive.”

It was fear and heart’s desire, that led her from the trike,

She wants to be a great big girl, and ride that two wheel bike.

What is this thing in hearts of dads, that cannot let them go?

Prepares them from the walk of life, but will not let them grow.

In father’s eyes they will always be, the bouncing baby girl,

Who thought that he could do no wrong, and gave his heart a whirl.

She will always be the little girl, riding pony on my knee,

Who perched on daddy’s shoulders, a better view to see.

Who held my hand so tightly, as we walked along the trail,

Who trusted me completely, as I taught each one to sail.

I know I’ve done the best I could, to prepare them for this day,

When fear and heart’s desire, for adventure makes them stray.

They have become young ladies, while that’s happy and that’s sad,

I must face my changing roll, still so proud to be their dad.

Some things we cannot teach a child, they must learn these on their own,

Words of advise…just silly fears, become wisdom as they’ve grown.

No matter where they sail or fly, let sail or wings unfurl,

Each will always be to me, my precious baby girl.

Norman’s Staff
Last night’s digest, gave me chuckle and grin,
from the uncensored comments, of a rafter within.
I must agree with Norman, about the absence of sex,
from the now nightly postings, of the LRG text.
Too late to preserve myself, from others who are gisted,
For most of them know, that my mind is quite twisted.
There was one precious post, on the listserv last night,
Which tickled and prodded, and caused me to write.
Was it innocently written or subliminally teasing?
A play upon words, which to me was quite pleasing.
It was a kudo to Norman, which made me to laugh,
“grateful to have touched upon you, and your incredible staff”.
Sex talk has been absent, and I just cannot remember,
Such kudos to Norman, and this significant member!
He’s a fearlessly bold, touchy-feely sort of guy,
But elation of his staff, brought a tear to my eye.
Thanks for five years on the list, with Norman and crew,
and for double meaning posts, that are too colorful to chew.
It is good to find humor, in all things you see,
A medicinal concoction for you and for me.
TomO.
 

Congratulations Nora for bringing the big “S” question to the big “C” group!
Norman, just as the old saying goes, be careful what you ask for, you just
might get it…It is my hope that as this thread develops, we all get
it…and get it a lot…lol. I wrote a silly lyric about “Of Passions and
Posts” a long time ago. Perhaps its caution is still important. However, I
will blindly go down this road with you. I am certain that there are many
others who are more knowledgeable about sex problems than I (cuz the only
problem that I have with it is not getting enough of it…lol…) and I will
leave the intelligent advise to them. However, I will try
to use good sense as I add my two cents worth. I am better with prose so I
hope you will indulge me as I slide into this with a little repeat of my
previous post on passion…just to get the juices (so to speak) going.
“We’re not here to ingest other’s amorous ventures, in the Liferaft’s digest
without sexual dentures. Sexual dentures? Are they the latest of rage? You
will never find out on this LRG page.”
Perhaps I was wrong, as we’re about to find out,
Strange stories will be posted, on this listserv no doubt.
I have some of my own, make you double up in laugh,
If I told some of the things, that I’ve done with my staff.
Do I speak of employees or of my ownself?
That’s a story better kept, on my own sexual shelf.
Nora’s inquiry is legit, it’s about quality of life,
And it pains her to ask, these questions as a wife.
It is a much deeper question, than just pleasing her man,
It’s about living a life, in the “now” when you can.
A quest for intimate moments, and life’s ultimate pleasure,
The trip to a place, that no yardstick can measure.
Bags stay in the basement, filled with debt, guilt and cancer,
You must travel this road lightly, to find out the answer.
Leave your hat on if you must, but you won’t need your shoes,
Some grease the wheels for this trip, by ingesting some booze.
How should I go? Where is this place you call “now”?
I want to live in the moment, without baggage somehow.
Give me a map, that’s marked with big “X”,
So I can find the place, to enjoy this good sex.
Is it in the back seat of a Buick, a mattress or hospital gurney?
No, your soul is your stage, in this sexual journey.
No doubt your body and mind, have a part in this trip,
They are the actors who slide, into the sexual grip.
Yet, as their play begins, the world seems to slip away,
The moment takes over, all the events of the day.
Perhaps it is a touch, or the twinkle in an eye,
Or endorphins released, from hand’s touch of your thigh.
Once you start down this road, there will be no lookin’ back,
No ct scans, no doctors or barium gack.
Its all left at the thresh hold, as you enter this place,
Perhaps you’ll wear satin, or Chantilly lace.
Yes, these actors are nervous, as they move and they tease,
Seeking sexual fulfillment, as they receive and they please.
Some where in this saga, the bodies release,
Souls to a place, where lies ultimate peace.
A place that’s so still, that there is nothing but “now”,
You cannot even remember, how you got there somehow.
There is no tomorrow, or setting of sun,
Two souls intertwined, two hearts beating as one.
The “now” isn’t, just about sex, you should know,
It’s about living the moment, letting all the rest go.
If the road that leads you there, leaves you disheveled and undressed,
Enjoy life in the moment, and consider yourself blessed.
TomO. 

I am sure you are worth it,

that your value is high,

but looking on craigs list

for a poet loving guy?

What ever did you think

when you put up that post?

Did you think you’d go fishin’

with a lymric lovin’ ghost?

For the men who bait hooks,

ain’t no fans of good rhyme,

they just stick to their casting

and the wetting of their line.

If your assets are limited

you seek rich men and money,

Perhaps I am not the guy

that you will call “honey”.

Yet, I am driven to respond

to some words that you wrote,

you seem to like water,

do you float on a boat?

A raven haired beauty,

but what makes you happy?

Perhaps an old man

that you can call Pappy?

You sound a bit lonely,

but who is the real you?

A cyber space traveler,

with nothing better to do?

Get out of that chair,

go feel out your real life,

perhaps your not looking

to become a rich wife.

You will find that the air

is much better outside,

And the people you will meet,

are real people with pride.

If richness and fullness

in life’s what you seek,

Take your blue eyes off the screen

Go out of doors, take a peek.

You may just find

that you’ll find the real you.

You may not even need

that boob job for two.

Perhaps there’s a guy

who’ll love you just as you are,

who doesn’t need mothering

who’s much better than par.

You will leave cyber behind

and know you’ve really been kissed,

No more will you write,

your search poems on this list.

I wish you success

and I wish you the best,

may you find the man of your dreams

with your internet quest.

Mo

Ages pass, or so it seems,
since we’ve heard from our friend in the land of the beans.
Terry, my friend, where did you go?
We’re missing you and want you to know.
Don’t be so quiet Georgia boy,
to hear from you would be such a joy.
So tell me, tell me old fordhook,
did you jump into the cold brook?
Did you sink in sand so quick,
Did they beat you with a stick?
Are you worried that we know that your feet really stink, stink?
or that some say you’re a skinny, rat fink?
Tell us, tell us, now old dude,
do you think us rather rude?
We poke and toke and look for you
but do not know the things you do.
Your report is rather late,
since eleven 248.
You disappeared, without a trace,
We wanna see yer little face,
hear yer stories of hot peppers and spice,
to hear from you would be quite nice.
Beanman, beanman, don’t be a such a ghost,
touch those keys and give us a post!
(Hey Terry, Did you hear about the set of jumper cables that walked into a bar?  The bartender said: “OK, you can come in…..
but don’t start anything.  lol)

 Still Stable Today

I know I don’t post, as often as I should 
and the silly poetry has not graced
 the the LRG listserv, as often as it could. 
Yet, it is important for us old timers to check in, 
to let the newly diagnosed gisters 
have a clue ’bout where we have been.

Not so much for, our own braggin’ rights, 
but to help all the newbies, sleep well through their nights. 
I’ve been a gister myself, for over six years, 
just livin’ my life, with these “terminal” fears.

I’ve popped more little orangies, than I can count, 
into the daze, of my life’s bank account. 
The folks on this list, have helped me to cope, 
They have given me comfort. They have given me hope.

That I just might live long enough,to ring in the cure, 
It is right around the corner, of that I’m quite sure. 
And until it does, I’ll get my quarterly scans, 
Give my best shot, to live His life long plans.

Yesterday I got, the results of scan twenty-eight, 
I waited so very patiently, to hear of my fate. 
I could have lept, from the white papered table, 
When my onc told me, that “the tumors are stable”.

My heart lept for joy, life horns went toot-toot, 
Then he asked me ’bout consumption, of veggies and fruit. 
Veggies and fruit, whatever could that mean? 
My onc, still focused his eyes, on chart-computer screen.

Your red blood cells are enlarged, elevated MCV,
 Perhaps its your thyroid, he then said to me. 
It seems I am deficient, in folate and B-12, 
some more test we will run, into this problem we’ll delve.

I want you to call, my pharmacist friend Jake, 
to see if this is a side effect, of the orange drug that you take. 
So I tuned in my good friends, Norman and Jerry, 
for the answer to this, side effect imatinib query.

Yes, Jerry Call’s so quick, with the answer you see,
with a 2005 ASCO article, which he sent promptly to me. 
I am surprised that I haven’t, seen this before on the list, 
Perhaps it is something, that I read or I missed.

It seems that elevated MCV, is a common occurrance, 
among those who have long term, chronic gleevec endurance. 
To those of you who might, just have elevated MCV, 
perhaps you should look ,into some vitamin therapy.

As for me, I am happy, to have this three month reprieve,
I will put another hash mark, on my life lines shirt sleeve. 
And each morning, in thanks, I’ll put a smile on my face, 
And dance like no one’s watching, as I run this human race.

TomO. 09-27-06