Fun with Comments!

 

scan 3

 

 

                Lostness   ( 107 )

 

 

Have you ever found comments more enjoyable than a text?

Or been drawn by the threads below news website articles?

 

Lacking any previous online voice, I opened a reader account in 2012.
Reacting around current events, and seeing my responses appear in public for the first time, seemed quite exciting.

Though many people’s debating skills hardly rose above playground levels
(fast communication allowed expression ahead of sober consideration)
there was fun to be had!

Especially under pieces which were fairly lightweight.

 


 

 

Here are a few examples of mine, from those days, with their related topics in brackets.

 

( Please note: these tongue-in-cheek remarks should not be taken seriously!)

 

1) ( Weekend “zombie walks”)

“I wouldn’t be seen dead looking like that!”

 

2) ( Complaints over paganism being taught at school)

“Perhaps certain sacrifices may be required, in the cause of inclusion?”

 

3) ( On the spread of veganism)  “Resistance is fruitile!”

 

4) ( Embarrassment when gay porn got accidentally shown behind a newscaster)

“Nice to watch him bend over backwards to apologise!”

 

5) ( The theory dinosaur flatulence contributed to climate change)

“This sounds like a lot of hot air!”

 

6) ( Discussing female sexuality)

“I thought the quickest way to arouse a woman was telling her there’s a shoe sale on?”

 


 

 

But comment threads soon sank into digital obscurity.

So, fearing frivolous new interests leading me astray
while all my past creative work lay neglected and unseen,
I gave up such commenting.

A severe health crisis during 2014-2015 increased my sense of urgency to finally publish something.

Yet it took until 2017 before I felt able to commence blogging.

(And, 2 years later, I’m still struggling.)

 

 

Now, however, I would advise anyone unsure about getting started:

Don’t be hesitant, like me,
or you might also regret
delaying your experience of WordPress!”

 

 

 

 


 

( Art on the blog is mine: I hope you like it?

Comments are very welcome!

Thank you for reading. )

 


 

( art / blog / blogging / fun / humor / humour / life / lostness / mental health / news / reading / thoughts / writing )

 

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This captive mind

scan 9

Lostness    ( 106 )

 

 

Back at the doctor’s waiting room, again.

Below its clock’s slow tick
this captive mind starts
wandering.

 

As
an essay title
pops into my head:
“The control delusion”

(on how little power
we really have).

 

And being straightaway
distracted
by one open magazine
discussing female
tribal menstrual synchrony.

“Did their men then go off hunting?”
quips an inner comic voice.
( He undermines all tact
hence best I let the topic drop.)

Another page exclaimed:
“religious symbols banned!”

(I’d rather be prewarned
about who’d want me sent
to hell.)

 

 

Next my mental jaunt
asked
whether excess information
might cause some
feeling faintly jaded
when around the fully known?

 

Or if beliefs which shed humility
should thus appear less credible.
Though dogma seeks submission
from our soul.

(And doctrines often act ungenerous
post-victory: suppressing
even grief among
opponents overthrown.)

Perhaps a rigid faith demands
acceptance too extreme?

 

 

Then these thoughts switched onto
“Dragon slaying”
as a metaphor of
anxious fights against
the ancient “reptile” brain that
generated automatic stress…

 

 

But suddenly
she calls my name
(long past appointment time).

 

Soon I step inside
the door and
pause there

standing quite
subdued to
face

her smile’s
lit eyes:

 

a new GP
so
beautiful

I struggle with
remembering

what

it was

I came
here for.

 

 

 

( 2012 )


 

( Art on the blog is mine: I hope you like it?

Comments are very welcome!

Thank you all for reading.)

 


 

( anxiety / art / beauty / blog / blogging / culture / depression / life / lostness / mental health / poem / poetry / thoughts )

 

 

Spun from light

 

Konica12576

 

 

 Lostness    ( 105 )

 

 

Who decided we need music in bookshops?

Why save no peaceful corners for
a quiet soul to seek?

 

Introverts get reduced choice
as others move to bar more space
from unfilled silent time.

Creating asymmetric stress
on those made tense by noise.

 

Aping malls, cafes, and
lavatories: will
libraries soon
proclaim some added sounds?

 

At hospitals
I’ve fretted
pain’s lost hours
trapped facing
fixed TV’s.

(Many adverts later
euthanasia gained appeal.)

 

Illness drove me there again
a body breaking down.

Sat wishing I’d been spun from light
not draped by weary flesh.

 

 

Awareness of deficiencies
may leave unsolved
their cure.

Though deep within
are yearnings for
a place
beyond this state.

 

Yet being gloomy
through these moments
what will brighten up the rest?

(Or if I can’t change now
then when?)

 

 

But misfortunes
starve
an appetite
that hungers after hope.

 

And a heart craves
thought
which
comforts.

 

While
sour truths

just feed
despair.

 

 

 

(2012)

 


 

( Any art on the blog is mine: I hope you like it?

Comments are always very welcome!

It’s so nice when people break the silence and isolation of blogging with chronic illness.

Thank you all for reading.)

 


 

( anxiety / art / blogging / depression / lostness / mental health / music / painting / poem / poetry / reading / thoughts / writing )

Overstressed

Konica12856

 

 

   Lostness    ( 104 )

 

 

Progress came from failure

Given drive to
move ahead without
good looks or lucky breaks.

And when success occurs we
might be chosen as
a mate (which boosted
any hope of spreading genes).

But some, like me, were never
fully in the game.
Once losing health so young
most chances quickly passed.

What made things worse:
an artist’s eye
craved beauties who did not
feel drawn its way.

Picturing those excluding touch
desire exceeded reach.
Such isolated vision found
no point for compromise.

 

I mused about biology.
Then prejudice
fate, karma.

Maybe one could help
dilute the blame?

Perhaps frustration overstressed
relationships?

Can a single human meet our needs?

 

( Would even gods do that?

They seem content to give mankind
the silent treatment, now.

Where evil gains free rein
non-intervention shades toward
abandonment.

Yet still a few who fume
impatiently at
traffic lights slow change
speak unperturbed in waiting out
millennia for
deities.
Minus likely dates of their
return.)

 

 

These days
left here
being ill

I craft reflections
from despond.

Or strive to dredge up
decent lines.

 

While laid

alone

with only
writing.

 

Since
I can’t
quite get

a life.

 

 

 

 

(2011)

 


 

( Art on the blog is mine: I hope you like it?

Comments are very welcome!

I have been on the point of giving up for many months, due to illness, but your likes and comments make me push on through the pain, each time.

Next weeks post will mark my second blogiversary…

Thank you for reading! )

 


 

( anxiety / art / beauty / depression / drawing / ideas / life / lostness / mental health / poem / poetry / relationships / thoughts )

 

 

 

Posturing

 

Konica128512

 

 

  Lostness    (103)

 

 

It hurt: admitting deep belief
got built upon
some shifting sands
that proved unstable.

But many things were learnt before
skilled reasoning was primed.

 

Illusions may be preferable
compared with harsher truths.

I wondered:
had kind ancestors
less chance of spreading traits
in ancient days when strangers
carried spears or axes?

 

Even now, on darkened streets
if lacking ways to guess
at inner natures
stereotypes alert survival
biased judgements happen fast.

Those who act beyond the norm
surprise more careful minds.

Hostility might swiftly flare
from standing in supposed reproach
to other’s sensed esteem.

 

 

Resentment
being simply stirred
finds politicians seeking votes
by posturing as punishers
for group morality.

Lauding money-saving cuts
they channel latent spite against
the unfit and the sick.

 

Such tactics sparking parody, I wrote:

“Behold!
A righteous call is heard to
“rise up from thy bed
and work.”
Declaring thousands newly well
in single pen-signed
miracles.

Once doubters then spoke cautiously
predicting public backlash
voices countered any qualms
upbraiding:
“Oh, you faint hearts
trust the masses side with us!
These broken ones are quietly despised.
Expect responses satisfied, at
watching shirkers stressed.”

 

So all softness became scorned
replaced by mirth
imagining
the lowly get chastised.”

 

 

Wealth had gentler treatment, though

on seeing how
our state
controls
its rich with
dangled “carrots”

 

while the poor
receive the
stick.

 

 

 

(2011)

 


 

(Art on the blog is mine: I hope you like it!

Comments are exceedingly welcome!

I have been feeling very low recently, and it’s so nice when someone breaks the silence…

Thank you for reading.)

 


 

( art / beauty / culture / drawing / illness / life / lostness / mental health / philosophy / poem / poetry / politics / thoughts )

 

 

 

Piercing through

 

Konica12456

 

 

Lostness    (102)

 

 

X million sperm had swum for life

and to the quickened one
who won these
years
in light

existence
started with a race
gestated vague survivor guilt.

 

Then thoughts it might be best
to go back
dreaming
snug
inside a scarlet cave.

 

But fear already
sank so deep
this stomach didn’t rest
from turning.

Hearing sudden noises round me
piercing through unshielded walls
pressed all concentration hard
which rendered calmness
something lost

though found by others
(duly envied
in their
peace).

 

 

My body’s now
a futile site
where nature
slowly erodes hope
of chance for sharing
beauty’s grace.

While sensing women formed
the gateway that
will always remain
closed.

And being shamed
I shall not
enter
feeling manly
(let alone become
a father)
since
long illness leaves
me sticking fast
in stasis.

Lately grasping
after somber
themes.

Exploring

just how
truly stuck

I am.

 

 

 

(2011)


 

(Art on the site is mine. I do hope you like it?

Comments are extremely welcome!

Interaction is one of the best parts of blogging.

It’s such a nice break to isolation: hearing if anyone has got something from a post.

Thank you for reading.)

 


 

( anxiety / art / beauty / depression / drawing / life / lostness / love / mental health / painting / poem / poetry / thoughts )

Behind the mask

 

Konica128522

 

 

           Lostness    (101)

 

 

Sexualized offers soon began to arrive
after opening an e-mail address.

Promising male enhancement
firm arousals.
Even dates with eager
women.

I claimed to be a bit disturbed
being targeted these ways…

“How come total strangers know my wishes so well?”

I complained at chess club
in mock anxiety.

Attuned to such deviant banter
guys returned only laughs
not advice.

 

My humour, also, may fall flat…

“You shouldn”t put yourself down!”  Had been a response.

“Why let others have all the fun?” I answered.

Growing up criticised from birth, I found
when later aiming barbs toward myself
internal voices slightly mollified.

 

Identifying as a loser reduced effort, generally.
Achievement tended to involve discomfort.

Shared failures
soothing wounded egos.
Seeing great success can grate
upon defects
comparisons adding irritation.

Fame attracts new tides of gossip
keenly seeking hidden flaws.

 

But then, versus appearance
run desires to strip away
our social roles
uncovering who we “really” are.

 

Though analogy would yet mislead
if beyond such roles
lay increased nullity.

Results thus
less like shedding clothes
than tearing at the skin.

 

Or perhaps I’d just
wrongly imagined
again?

 

Creating
this fear
for removing a mask

that might lift off
some part of
my face.

 

 

 

(2011)

 


 

( Art on the blog is mine: I hope you like it.

Comments are very welcome!

I always look forward to hearing from visitors.

Thank you for reading.)

 


 

( anxiety / art / beauty / culture / depression / drawing / humour / life / lostness / mental health / poem / poetry / thoughts )

 

Unglimpsed destiny

 

scan 26

 

 

Lostness   (100)

 

 

An aged image casts a lure

as my gaze meets
once sighted eyes
past living.

What reflections might be heard
if these long silent lips could
regain speech?

 

In fading prints
of monochrome
I look upon them still:
Victorian and Edwardian days.
Quite close to ours
they feel.

 

When browsing books of photographs
collecting vintage scenes
where bustling city streets show
people stressed or hurried
chasing after needs which
seemed so vital then
but did not leave a trace.

Like those faces briefly
turned aside
forever now
concealed.

 

Around some corner
through old doorways…

They’ve all gone
ahead
before us.

 

Into darkness
well obscured.

Fared forth on
unglimpsed
destinies.

 

 

 

 

(2011)


 

 

 

scan 24

 

 

I was struck by how, from mid 20th century, viewers may know everyone seen in specific dated photographs could not possibly be alive.

Examining such reproductions of reality populated exclusively by the dead, is a fairly recent human experience. Just a few generations old.

 

 

scan 25

 

 

(Portraits used above are the only ones to survive from my grandparent’s youth:

Kathleen Regan (1896-1984) at first communion (1904).

Charles Webber (1900-1971) in uniform (1918).

And with his son (my uncle): Raymond Webber (1923-2017).

I honour and miss them all.)

 

 

While time remaining wanes
I live alone in lostness
as my failure to find love has left
the chain of family
broken.

 

 


 

 

( Comments especially welcome!

Opening the heart feels lonelier met by silence.

Thank you for reading.)

 

 


 

(art / beauty / books / depression / life / lostness / love / mental health / photography / poem / poetry / relationships / thoughts )

 

 

Prideful spirit

 

konica124971.jpg

 

 

Lostness   (99)

 

 

I search across the lighted page…

This portal made for mass distraction
holds me in its net.

More interesting than my time offline
here bearing social emptiness.

Languishing alone
unseen.
These many years beyond
all human care
or touch.

And being ill
enduring pain
our mind can start to thirst
for greater agency
chafing amid helplessness
under ruthless viral force.

 

Remembering
I met a few who chose
assertive faiths

which conjured up a
self-projected world
where things seemed props
around their stage
as animated nature
somehow
manifested will.

Such prideful spirit
set against soft pity
weakness, limits: could
then lead to blaming
patients for disease.

(Rationing our sympathy lets
conscience free, conveniently.
Recalling one I heard
excuse compassion’s loss
when that shrinking quality, in him,
appeared
already quite worn out
before it had been used.)

 

Just presume we did attain
a vision clear from
comforting delusion’s balm:
need this leave us much
except an uninspiring truth?

 

 

Confessing, though

(while knowing none might die
with inbox vacant)

I still aspired to closure
after realising
any life
including mine

should likely
stay
unfinished

even

as it
ends.

 

 

 

(2011)

 


 

(Art on the blog is by me: I hope you like it?

Comments are very welcome!

Have a virus which is thickening brain-fog.
Unsure if my writing works due to disorientation effects: making me slightly word-blind.

I’m finding it difficult to carry on blogging due to illness. Views are down; follows almost stagnant, sharing non-existent.
Feeling at a low ebb. Don’t know how to turn things around. Could anyone help?

Thank you for reading.)

 


(art / beauty / blog / culture / depression / drawing / illness / life / lostness / mental health / poem / poetry / thoughts )

 

 

Zombie or vampire?

Konica1194

 

 

Lostness   (98)

 

 

People often resent what they’re forced to do
so why should the poor love work?

 

Some call on social transformation
yet revolutions rarely
end oppression: merely change oppressors.

Now globalists prefer consumers rootless
differences defanged
as just diverse.
Nothing prompting dying for
or fighting.
Culture in vast fashion statements
varied clothes plus wide food choice.

Once traditions have been undercut
those mourning them may get disdained.

Perhaps reports
on communism’s death
were slightly overdone
since it also served by propping up
our bloated capital?

Old antagonists continue
toxic codependency: where
thesis and antithesis promote
stasis before synthesis.

Still certain rebels find their
opposition shuns contentment.
Dissidence becomes life’s purpose
intolerant at long set ways
and furious for progress.

 

Violence forms a spectacle
while serenity does not.
Hence millions scan the broadcast news
or enjoy combat games.

 

Recently my onscreen view showed
rioters busy looting shops
they dragged away new psychic bonds
as extra TV sets.

Clutching shiny product’s flesh with
addict’s raging neediness.

(Resembling films:
when zombies rush
in mobs
like savage proles
compared to smarter vampire
aristocrats.)

 

Then noticing
alone
among the glass-strewn streets:

a single bookstore
stayed untouched

and only there
might one feel
tempted…

(wisdom’s value transcends cash)

…but

though
peace of mind
could be worth stealing

I doubt
it would
result

from
theft.

 

 

 

(2011)

 


 

(Any art on the blog is mine: I hope you like it?

Comments are very welcome!

My views remain small and it’s always nice to hear from readers.

Thank you for visiting.)

 


 

(art / beauty / books / culture / drawing / lostness / love / mental health / news / poem / poetry / politics / thoughts)