Poetry. The Road Not Taken. By Robert Frost. Condensed by Paul Klusman.

In a forest stood a man named Frost

It seems he was perfectly lost

Glancing east and west

And overly obsessed

With opportunity cost

Poetry. The Rime of the Ancient Mariner. By Samuel Taylor Coleridge. Condensed by Paul Klusman

A Mariner wrote an endless rime

About ships and a terrible time

It went on forever

The reader could never

Make it to the last line

Poetry. I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud. By William Wordsworth. Condensed by Paul Klusman.

A dude thinking he was a cloud

Saw flowers dancing in a crowd

On his couch did he lie

With an inward eye

His mind with shrooms endowed

Poetry. Stopping by the Woods on a Snowy Evening. By Robert Frost. Condensed by Paul Klusman.

A man many miles from bed

Near trees in a horse-drawn sled

Paused on his course

Of the man thought the horse

The cold must have gone to his head

Poetry. Man from Nantucket. Revised by Paul Klusman.

In Nantucket a man there was

Anatomically blessed because

He performed a feat

I can't repeat

For the sake of profanity laws

Poetry. About my poetry.

Patterns
By Paul Klusman

The thing about poems
That I often write
Some follow a formula
Some don’t

Poetry. About gratitude.

Cat Food

By Paul Klusman

The thing about cat food

It's what I feed my cat

Although he never tells me

I think he's grateful for that

Poetry. About sanity.

Oatmeal

By Paul Klusman

The thing about oatmeal

It's always boring and plain

It would drive some crazy

It helps keep me sane

Poetry. About uncertainty.

Oranges
By Paul Klusman

The thing about oranges
You never know what you got
Some are sweet and juicy
Some are not

Poetry. About tasks.

Hard Boiled Eggs
By Paul Klusman

The thing about hard boiled eggs
You never know what you got
Some are easy to peel
Some are not

Poetry. About a cool morning in spring.

All the World Was Green
By Paul Klusman

One cool morning late in spring
I sat on a wooden beam
On the edge of a quiet meadow
And all the world was green

The sky was gray the clouds heavy
No ray of sun was seen
Breathing in the sweet air
And all the world was green

A gentle rain began to fall
Caressing soft and clean
My skin, the grass, the trees
And all the world was green

Tiny drops collected on my face
Tiny rivers to convene
Ran joyful down my cheeks
And all the world was green

I heard a chorus of voices
What wisdom could I glean?
There was life all around
And all the world was green

Time Waits for no man
But here so serene
I paused fully alive
And all the world was green

Poetry. About my cat's duties.

Litter Box
By Paul Klusman

A scratching sound in another room
Where buried treasures live
A box of sand to receive the gifts
My cat pauses there to give

Serves as warning for all to heed
An odor for all to know
The type of smell truly up
With which I will not throw

For if I hold my lunch at bay
The better I come across
Whenever near that hallowed place
My cookies I shall not toss

But rather go with scoop in hand
And tightly hold my nose
With grit and determination
Remove what cat bestows

As partners in an endless dance
A ritual that we do
Cat shall lead and I follow
Number one and number two

Fuck Cancer

Two pictures on either side of cancer treatment. The first one is back in November 2020 at the start of chemo and the last one is today, June 22, 2021 at the conclusion of my radiation treatments. In celebration of being done today I rang a bell and wandered up and down the halls of the treatment center yelling "FUCK CANCER!!" Nobody got pissed off or anything. Then I went outside and did the same thing for all the world to hear.

This has been a long and difficult road but I made it and I'm cancer free thanks to science and medical technology. I would describe modern cancer treatments as doing something brutal to your body in a very precise manner. It's just brutal enough to kill the cancer yet leave the rest of the body relatively intact. I believe in the future there will be more subtle ways to kill cancer that are less damaging to the body but this is where we are today. There is more healing to be done and continued work to get my strength back but I'm glad to be alive.

I'm lucky in that I've got a good survival rate but at the same time it's always discussed as a percentage of people who survive 5 years, or 10 years, or 20, and so on. My maternal Grandmother lived to be 104 and I always imagined I might live that long as well, but with this recent experience I'm not so sure. I'm 52 and I might live another 52 more years but I know my chances are reduced and that is ok. I will try to make the most of the time I have. That may include acts of great ambition and it may be sitting with good friends, visiting, and doing much of nothing.

Thanks so much to all the lovely people who healed my body and all the friends and family who supported me. There were dark moments along the way but none of it has been as bad as the worst things I imagined. I'm not done dealing with cancer - I face a lifetime of checks and scans and more treatments if it returns. But today I pause for celebration and say: Fuck Cancer.

Cancer Update.

Hello friends update on my continuing cancer adventure. Basic info remains as follows: Stage 4 Lymphoma diagnosed as a single tumor attached to my spine November 2020. Surgery removed much of the tumor and chemo/radiation getting the rest. I was declared cancer free after three rounds of chemo mid February with continuing treatments to make sure we get it all. Prognosis is 70% - 80% survival after five years not bad odds.

I am now several months past chemo which finished on March 22, 2021. I had a total of six rounds spaced three weeks apart. Overall chemo was much easier than I anticipated given many stories I had heard from other people. Different for everyone of course. I am lucky I never experienced any sort of real discomfort just very light nausea and slight headache the day after the infusions and then pretty much nothing from there on out. I did experience fatigue which started out mild in the first rounds and got more significant towards round six also taking longer to recover. The most surprising thing was how the fatigue lingered for several months after the chemo was done. Nothing that kept me stuck in bed but a noticeable drop in energy.

I am now just about half way through 23 rounds of radiation. This is every day Monday - Friday over roughly a five week period. The machine looks very much like an MRI or CT scan - a large donut with a bed that slides in and out. During the radiation there is absolutely no sensation just the noise of the machine as some mechanism circles my body inside the donut. The actual radiation is very quick just about 1 1/2 minutes of the machine running and there is more time in prep and getting the body into the correct position so that the “aim point” is right.

Radiation side effects are fatigue and swallowing difficulty due to spillover radiation on my esophagus. Overall side effects are milder than chemo. They will become more pronounced towards final treatments and most severe several weeks after treatments are done. So far I can drive myself to and from radiation treatments so long as the fatigue isn’t too bad. I may put out a call for rides if the fatigue gets bad towards the end. There is sort of a topical anesthetic available to help the esophagus if it gets severe. Radiation + chemo can take up to 18 months for full recovery. I may have some rough waters ahead but I'm looking forward to being done and getting my strength back.

I received both doses of the Pfizer Covid vaccine right at the end of my chemo treatments. I was advised to continue with social distancing, masks, etc. since the efficacy of the vaccine is unknown in people with compromised immune system. I did see one early study that showed people undergoing chemo have a 50-50 chance of developing antibodies. I will be getting an antibody test at some point to determine if I have any protection. Please encourage everyone you know to get vaccinated. Herd immunity is the only way I can have any protection if the vaccine failed in my body.

As you can see from the photo my hair is coming back. At the end of chemo I lost nearly every single hair on my body except arms and legs. After chemo the beard and eyebrows came back quickly followed by hair on my head and the rest of my body. I was told to expect the hair to come back curly but I think it’s coming in straight so no Napoleon Dynamite look for me. I've been shaving regularly for several months.

Thank you everyone who has supported me through all of this, particularly local folks who brought food and provided transportation. Cancer is different for each person but so far none of this has been as bad as the worst things I imagined and honestly staying isolated due to Covid was worse than the cancer ordeal. You wouldn’t believe how some people refuse to wear a mask AT A CANCER TREATMENT FACILITY DURING A GLOBAL PANDEMIC. As much as I’ve seen truly horrible behavior out of some people I’ve seen absolutely lovely behavior out of so many others. Thank anyone you know in the medical field they truly are the heroes.

Please do not send gifts or flowers I’m nervous about receiving things into my house due to Covid. It’s still out there a local friend of mine tested positive a few weeks back. She is early 30s and ended up in the ER. Of course she wasn’t vaccinated so there you go.

Poetry. About a dirty yard.

A Bunch of Dirt in the Yard*

By Paul Klusman

Let me live in a house by the side of the road

With a bunch of dirt in the yard.

Dirt that is sandy, dirt that is brown,

Dirt that is barren and hard.

I would not mind if it even grew weeds,

The grass it does retard.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road

With a bunch of dirt in the yard.

I see out my window my neighbor Gary

Standing with hose in hand,

Sprinkling water and spilling seed

There upon the land.

His yard green, luscious, and full.

Now active he works so hard

At my house where I live by the side of the road

With a bunch of dirt in the yard.

And now out the back towards the east,

Greeting the morning sun,

I see patches of dirt slowly growing

Where once there was none.

What grass remains I shall hold out hope,

This grass I cherish and guard,

Behind my house at the side of the road

With a bunch of dirt in the yard.

*This is a tribute to a friend of mine who struggles to grow grass in his front yard and his neighbor similarly embarrassed who tries to help

Poetry. About my cat alarm clock.

Snooze Button on a Cat*

By Paul Klusman

Why for art thou still in bed?

It's half past meow o'clock!
The sun is up my bowl is empty,
Into your room I stalk.

And walk upon you placing paws
With the help of gravity,
Pressing painful in a spot,
Sounding a mournful plea.

No inside voice calm and soft
But rather urgent cry,
Inches away from your ear,

The time to rise is nigh!

You shall not hide from light
That breaks upon this place.
You shall not miss my booty
So proudly in your face.

You shall not calm with cuddles,
There is no time for that!
No such thing as ever was
A snooze button on a cat.

          

*With a fond hat tip to Kendra U.

Poetry. About my cat who bears false hunger.

Ask Not For Whom the Refried Beans
By Paul Klusman

Some refried beans half a can
Microwave a minute point five
Adding broccoli and salsa too
With saltines come alive

In my mouth a midday snack
Some bachelor kitchen fare
Not gourmet but good enough
What lazy hands prepare

When all at once a voice below
Sad eyes looking up at me
What meow pray tell inquire
Delicious smell for he

Is starving slow and wasting thin
Though food be in his dish
My cat makes known his tale of woe
Of woe as sad as this

Then to his chair to elevate
His voice to plead his case
A look of starving hunger
Upon his furry face

Relenting now I offer him
Still meowing pitiful poor
Scoop a bit into a bowl
And set upon the floor

Whereupon sniff and turn away
What desire just moments ago
Held such promise of wanting
Now rejection there bestow

So once again temptation's muse
Oh cat you falsely be
Ask not for whom the refried beans
The beans are not for thee

Poetry. About missing my people.

But for Wanting You Here

By Paul Klusman

The rain gave way to the burning sun
The clouds to the burning blue
The hours of dark to the break of dawn
And birds to sing anew

The morning crossed the mark of noon
The noon crossed to later time
The hands of the clock past the marks

And rang out every chime

My cat fell into a slumbered state
My eye fell to him now
My heart fell into contented grace
And glad marvelled how

The day is wanting nothing more
The spirit has nothing to fear
This moment would be perfection
But for wanting you here

Poetry. About another tiny visitor.

Micro Spider Sibling. Sequel to Micro Spider.
By Paul Klusman

Tiny spider sibling

In the same spot

Lurking in my kitchen

A slightly larger dot

Than your spider sister

I set free days ago

Roaming in the wilderness

Outside the window below

Or was that perhaps a brother

Visiting the other day?

I didn't catch his name

Before he slipped away

So now I'll crack the window

Open so you may pass

Stay here in my house

Or hop down to the grass

To share with other spiders

Adventures you encounter

Or if you'd rather stay

To patrol my kitchen counter

I'll leave you to your choice

I must attend some chores

I'll neither bid you stay

Nor shoo you out of doors

- Time passes -

Back a few hours later

The day is near the end

I see you still remain

My tiny spider friend

To cast your great fortune

Wherever you may seek

Play amongst the ants

Who arrived the other week

Underneath the cabinets

Behind the coffee maker

Claim your spider kingdom

Beside the pepper shaker

I wish you good luck

Tiny spider number two

Welcome to my home

There's room enough for you

Poetry. About my sleeping cat.

Oh Sleepy Cat
By Paul Klusman

Oh cat asleep in a chair

On a rainy afternoon

Your sound of breathing calm

Against the cold gloom

Your paws and whiskers twitch

As you roam a field of green

Somewhere far away

In a sunny golden dream

Do you chase birds and mice?

Or elusive butterfly?

Do you wait for happiness?

Oh dear cat so do I

Now waking from your slumber

Stretch and fold your ears

Into the kitchen wander

Then soon you reappear

And back upon your chair

Circling into a ball

Close your eyes breathing

Back asleep you fall

Into another universe

Oh feline astronaut

Wherever dreams take you

Wherever time forgot

And when time does return

And when the bough break

I'll be here next to you

Again when you awake

Poetry. About a tiny visitor.

Micro Spider
By Paul Klusman

Little micro spider
On my countertop
Beside the salt and pepper
I pause now to stop

To capture in a picture
For all the world to see
This tiny little creature
Come to visit me

Smile now for the camera
Show us your best side
Barely more than a pixel
Than a grain of rice is wide

Now under a giant glass
Where whisky often goes
Slipping a piece of paper
Under your tiny toes

Then set you gently onto
The open window sill
Above the kitchen sink
Pausing there until

Over the edge you disappear
To the wilderness below
Where your fancy leads
Your tiny heart to go

Thank you for your greetings
In my kitchen here today
I wish you very well
To see you on your way

Much better out of doors
And may you find there soon
Tiny spider adventures
In the sunny afternoon

Poetry. About friendship along the way.

Brothers

By Paul Klusman

Into this world we two were thrown
Another man and me
To chart our path on cobblestone
The grass, the wind, and sea

Our characters both were noble strong
Yet flawed as any man
We followed each a road along
Where trials and fortune ran

Made our way then by and by
One path to the other
Long last stood there eye to eye
Brother next to brother

No need of salutation
All formality dispell
For out of all creation
We knew each other well

The distant far horizon showed
Our eyes to lead the way
We turned and set upon the road
Us two as one that day

Battered by the tempest rains
Cheered by skies of blue
As ever moonlight grows and wanes
As ever did we two

The joys we shared were doubled
Whenever fortune smiled
Wherever days were troubled
More quickly reconciled

Then finally reaching journey’s end
And resting weary souls
Much better tired hearts to mend
Much lesser journey’s tolls

Much richer profits that we shared
From toil we had done
Whatever dreams that we had dared
The bolder two as one

We paused for good reflection
We raised our glasses high
We toasted true affection
We said our last goodbye

And parting to our separate ways
Though further years begotten
Would brothers be in all the days
Gone but not forgotten

Poetry when I was 12 in Mrs. Jorgenson's class 1980. North Hill Elementary School Minot, ND.

Land of Oz
By Paul Klusman

There once was a land of Oz
Where they made a movie Jaws
The shark when out of control
And ate the city whole
So no more was the land of Oz

More poetry when I was 12 in Mrs. Jorgenson's class 1980. North Hill Elementary School Minot, ND.

Bee Named Bower
By Paul Klusman

There once was a bee named Bower
Who flew from flower to flower
He flew through the air
With very little care
Until he smacked into a tower

Poetry. About ending and beginning.

Ending and Beginning

By Paul Klusman

Said the autumn leaf to the wind blowing cold:

I know the end is near

I’ll burst forth in color and drop from my hold

I know the end is near

Said the flower still hiding when Spring came around:

A new beginning is near

I'll awake from slumber, then spring from the ground

A new beginning is near

Said the fading sky to the low setting sun:

I know the end is near

When past the horizon your light undone

I know the end is near

Said the glow in the east to the darkened sky

A new beginning is near

I bring you the gift of morning's reply

A new beginning is near

Said the man in his bed to the angel of death:

I know the end is near

Now draw from my body this tired last breath

I know the end is near

Said the child still waiting in her mother’s womb:

A new beginning is near

So soon I'll be born, then joy fill the room

A new beginning is near

Said my frightened heart when we parted ways:

I know the end is near

No more comfort of you sharing my days

I know the end is near

Said my lonely soul to the ones I adore:

A new beginning is near

Time heals all, soon we gather once more

A new beginning is near

Poetry. About hope on a gray morning.

The Earth was New

By Paul Klusman

The earth was new on a misty morn
The air was heavy and still
The sky so gray though sun was born
To a blush of green on the hill

The reign of winter was fading fast
Spring waited in the valley
The darkened season now at last
Shook off the frozen tally

Of days of toil of endless dread
Counting a painful toll
Of wanting hope where it may tread
As now the blushing knoll

The morning it lingered on this day
The sun was hidden still
Yet there in shadows began to play
Some heat against the chill

Though light was dim a cautious hope
Held out and did repair
The world anew as all awoke
To Heaven from Hell's despair

Poetry. About my Cat.

Cat Lying on my Chest

By Paul Klusman

My cat lying on my chest
Gets up from his place of rest
And wanders up by my head
Near the pillow on the bed

But nothing of interest he meets
Turns to my feet under sheets
But everything there’s a bore
Returns to my chest once more

Again at his resting place
I stare at his handsome face
In the dark before the morn
In the hour before sun is born

Then suddenly kitty's heart
Makes him stand up and depart
Hop gently down to the floor
And exit the bedroom door

What causes you quickly go?
What drives your heart to and fro?
Does it seek something to mend?
We all do my furry friend!

Do you seek light and beauty?
As any cat's solemn duty?
Do you seek wisdom and truth?
As many cats do forsooth

The clock shows time has passed
When will kitty return at last?
What quest to make him whole?
To the kitchen to visit his bowl?

And now up the stairs again
Approaches my little friend
Appears at the foot of the bed
And paws up to my head

What did you find do tell?
Then upon his breath I smell
The answer to all my quips
As kitty licks his lips

And pauses to wash his face
Then with easy simple grace
Now settles again to rest
Lying here upon my chest

From the first and now the last
With gravity holding us fast
As the minutes linger on
Together we greet the dawn

Poetry. About speaking truth.

Lonely is the One

By Paul Klusman

Lonely is the one who speaks
The truth for all to hear
While others turn away
And cower in their fear

As tyrants rain their poison
While pounding a fisted hand
And trample the flowers of justice
Growing across the land

Lonely is the one who turns
To lost and forgotten souls
The cold and hungry the silent
Who pay life’s heavy tolls

To offer comfort to shelter
Kindness against the rain
To steady in the blowing wind
Sympathy against the pain

Lonely is the one who walks
Towards better days ahead
And leaves behind the past
Where others dreary tread

But upon the road encounter
Another who heeds the call
A merry fellow traveler
Not so lonely after all