Cancer

 

It started after an evening meal.
The pain.

Five hours in I broke.
And phoned.
The helpline said an ambulance would soon arrive.
Not so.

All night dressed and waiting. Bent.
Stomach-holding. Sofa-bound.
Yet no-one came.

Ten hours later, I struggled off
to A&E,
alone.

 

Now doctors were taking an interest.
Usually a bad sign.
I got a little cubicle, to myself. Less stressful.
For an introvert.

“It’s not your appendix, but 
we’ve found a shadow on the scan.”

A shadow. I didn’t like the sound of that.
Vague, yet somehow ominous.

A colonoscopy was next.

Then CT with contrast dye.

 

 

The call occurred one Friday in October.
“Consultant wants to see you.”
“Can’t we talk by phone?” I asked.
“No. We need you to attend.
A nurse will be there, too.”

I knew, of course, my luck had gone.
Good news didn’t travel
quite this way.

“Stage 3 bowel cancer”
the diagnosis, came.
4 weeks til they cut me open.
Chopped half my colon out.

Yet blood leaks through such tumours.
They found me too anaemic, for the surgery.
During an iron transfusion I collapsed.
Caught a virus
in their waiting room.

Lungs congested, on the day.
Operation, thus,
delayed, another month.

More time to fret.

 

Finally
through December’s dark
at 6.45 (am)
I walked

across a rather quiet city
toward an opaque
destiny.
Amid those distant lights.

 

Taking in its sights.

 

Along

with the thought

of a slicing

blade.

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

---

 

 

Since being discharged from hospital, three days before Christmas 2021,
I’ve been writing a (first) novel.
Hadn’t quite realised how exhausting that would be.

Hence my absence from blogging.
Multitasking is hard for me. I feel a need for sticking obsessively at one thing.
Sadly, I haven’t written a poem since my last blog post.
I’m even anxious that moving back to poems might lose the flow of prose.
Its narrative arc, focus, and intensity.
Plus those inspirations for slogging away, trying to reach that distant summit,
of the word mountain.
(An actual end.)

As Cancer is my starsign, too, and birthday week has come around, again,
I thought to write a piece: explaining this extended absence, from WordPress.

I want to return to poetry, once the novel is finished.
Hopefully, before 2022 is over.

(I’m 27,000 words / 16 chapters in, so far. Past half way.
Slow progress. But my energy levels are low, due to chronic illness.)

 

Wishing a big

Thank You!

 

to all my followers. ❤️

I am very grateful for your patience.  🤗

 

I still log in (irregularly). Then, greatly enjoy other people’s writing, art, drawing, photography.
(And leaving likes.😄)

Sorry if this post seems tedious, yet I wished to update everyone on my situation,
rather than just let a long silence continue, unclarified.

I have not abandoned blogging, or poetry.
(Ab)Normal ramblings may even be resumed,
on here.
By winter time…

 

 

 

Comments are always very welcome!  🌞

 

Bye for now!

 

 

 

(PS: Any art, or photography, on this blog is mine. Hope you like it? 🙏)

 

---

( anxiety / art / blog / blogging / drawing / illness / life / photography / poem / poems / poetry / prose / reading / writing )

Advertisement

Truth

Should I give them up

my pockmarked truths?

(Each scar-shamed one.)

 

Are they deemed
too blunt and ugly, now?

(Although hard-won.)

 

As if unearthed
dirt-bound

like postholes under
abandoned ancient sites

which only speak
to us
in ash.

 

In charcoal’s black.

From lives undone.

By sufferings
that came on fast.

Remorselessly
unjust.

 

And where

(however much
its victims strove
at staying strong)

Fate’s sharpened heel
then ground things down.

Unto this
trace.

Unnamed.
Unhallowed.

Charred
across deep soil.

 

So to ask

(today)

Do I tell them still:
these damnably
unwelcome truths?

 

Or let what I know
be taken

cancelled

snatched
by
(that thieving death’s-hand)
time?

Or silenced
via law
and dogmas?

 

Either way

(it feels)

I shall
finish

lost.

 

Burning

in censored

exile.

 

 

Or

forgot.

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

 

 

(Post-poem musing)

 

 

 

Defeat code

 

 

 

Lies may be popular
yet still pollute the soul.

I’ve seen them spread.

Of course, I speak as mere outsider.
Reject.

Society had no place for me.

Love proved unobtainable.
Friendship unavailable.
Beauty unattainable.
Recognition unachievable.
Conformity unendurable.

But in this desert I sought Truth.
Among a myriad books.

Thinking til my brain hurt.
Bearing painful disillusion.

Served Truth as a mistress.
(Though she was cruel.)

 

Now I fear loss of legacy.
Taking secrets to the grave.

Dread a smothering control-grid
where free thought may barely breathe.

And dissent can get deleted
before even being read.

 

Anxious tyranny goes masked
conceals its mean grimace.

Behind sugar coated rhetoric
of “safety”, “care”, “community”.

Whose guidelines filter
disliked views.

And keep things hid
not argued with.

 

So perhaps my words
will all be wasted?

And hence bullies win again.
(I found they often did.)

Feeling need to speak in code
already signals one’s defeat.

 

What remains is fretting.
Muted impotence.

Watching
washed-up
on the sidelines

While a smug parade
struts by.

To hear its well-lit
noisy victory

sound

that triumph

 

of

the lie.

 

 

 

 

---

 

---

 

 

 

 

Belated Birthday Piece

 

The photo below is as close as I ever got to a wedding…

(That’s me, with the top hat.
And a girl even held my hand!
I always loved women’s company.
Hoped one might marry me.

But fate had other plans.)

 

 

 

 

I intended a post marking my 30th consecutive birthday isolated and ill.
(After living alone from 1991.)

Although too unwell for publishing this on time, I am pushing back against oblivion:
by including it, now.

(Please forgive the lateness.)

 

---

 

 

 

Nothingness

 

 

In a futile imitation of self-love
I’d vowed:

To mark each birthday
by a piece.

Though the date meant less
it still held worth for me.

Yet I sank too low
this year.

Hence failed (alas).
At feigning some significance.

Depression crushed my spirit
like a bug.

 

I lost a fight
which lostness won.

Then sensed a darkening destiny
a long-imagined fear.

Of joining those forgotten ones.
Who die unseen.

Who lie alone in quiet homes.
Unmissed for months.

As all around go rushing on
compulsive in their busyness.

 

And while I watch 
such fate approach

to change is growing harder
since

it does not just depend on me
but strangers.

As old age reveals
diminished status

shrink toward a nullity
beyond humane regard.

Where no other life
encountered

makes spare any space
for mine.

 

Thus I sit, again
with silence.

Only mapping out
these margins

In my
nothingness.

 

 

 

 

---

---

 

 

Wait ages for a poem, then three come along at once! 😀

 

(I wonder which one works best?

Did any lines stand out for you?)

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

 

Comments are always VERY welcome! 🙏

 

 

 

---

 

 

I apologise for blogging infrequently in 2021.

Was going to write about the reasons.
Yet this post seems rather long, already.
(Worry you may get too bored.)
Therefore I’ll leave that topic for another time.

 

I want to finish by expressing my gratitude.
To readers and followers.

As a person absent from other platforms or social media
it has been a moving experience:
exposing my work online, for the first time, here.

Finding people so supportive and kind.

Your likes, follows, and comments, help keep me going.
Maintaining morale during chronic illness.
Countering those temptations to give up. 

 

Would really love to thank you all in person. 🤗

But must make do with sending

 

Best Wishes!

And

Thanks
for reading!

 

 

 

 

---

(  art / blog / blogging / depression / drawing / life / mental health / photography /poem / poetry / thoughts / truth / writing)

 

Better days

 

 

 

I stopped to hear the wind
sound its pursuit
around my ears.

And stood
a while

(mouth tingling vaguely).

Thinking back
on being young

As one who’d
dared imagine
love

might soon
dislodge

life’s lonely treadmill
from

its
confined course.

 

But
then
(even in their emptiness)

perhaps

just these
remained

my
better days?

 

Though
yet such times
were still

suffused

by
trauma’s shadow

through

the memory.

 

By
darkness

 

through

 

the blood.

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

---

 

(The poem above sprang from a few unused old lines.
Left on scrap paper when I was 21.

They reasserted themselves before me:
as if discontented with their 42 year oblivion.
Seeking a return to the light, at last.

I felt driven to rework them, into this.

Strange being a poet sometimes.

I hope you think it works?)

 

---

 

 

---

 

And Now

it’s time for…

 

Blogstars 2020!

 

 

I discovered many excellent new blogs in 2020:
and wanted to share a selection with you…

 

Poetstars!

 

Leila at Leila Samarrai

Holly at House of Heart

Ra’ahe at Fallen Alone

Vallia at Vall.Grey poetry

Kim at The Cheesesellers Wife

Kristiana at My Screaming Twenties

Ai at The Vague Thoughts

Nikita at The Purple Hermit

Betty at Seasonings

Aneurin Gwyn at Into the Unknown

Melody at Melody Chen

Upashna at Upashna

Kaylie at A Whole and the Moments

Liv at she wrote

Viktoria at weird and white

Robin at WriterGrrlRobin

Euphrosyne at It’s Getting A little Dark Out There

 

 

Artstars!

 

Ritva at Art by Ritva

Monica at Monica Aissa Martinez

Hinglaz at Art by Hinglaz

Isadore at Isadore Michas

Vivien at Vivien Art & Design & Tutoria

Elaine at Elaine Fox Art

Anna at Anna’s

Rachel at rachel tremblay

Heni at Heni’s Happy Paintings

Marisa at Abstract Reception

Damian at Visual Faire

 

 

 

Photostars!

JJ Raia at jjraiaphotography

Angela at My Creative Wayz

 

 

Gothstars!

Jennifer at Vamp Jenn’s corner

Kelly at Twisted Libra Cemetery

 

 

 

I hope you will enjoy some of these?

 

 

(Also, a big “Sorry”
to those not listed!

As I currently follow 275 blogs,
putting them all here, would make this post overlong.)

 

Please visit my previous “Blogstars“

(from 2019)

For 26 more fine Bloggers.

(Including Candice Louisa Daquin; Devika Mathur; River Dixon; Gary J Steele; etc.)

 

I’ve only linked writers found since publishing the first version, in this piece:
to avoid duplication.

 

---

---

 

Did you find great new blogs in 2020?

Do you agree with any of my choices?

 

Comments are always very welcome. 🙏

 

Wishing everyone a

Happy New Year!

 

Thank you
for reading. 😊

 

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

 

 

---

 

(PS:

Meant to publish this during December, but got hit by another flu-type virus
(alongside my usual chronic illness) through the festive season.🤒

Totally sapped energy for contacting others.
And when the phone actually rang, on Christmas day, I felt too unwell to answer it.
Reinforcing the isolation.

So passed my 28th Christmas alone.

Anyway, with luck, none of you can top that,
for sheer dreariness?
LOL! 🤞🏻)

 

---

( art / blog / blogging / depression / drawing / life / love / mental health / photography / poem / poems / poetry / reading / writing )

Fame!

 

 

Fame

when now imagined
strays
from certain wilder dreams

to tamer ones.

In any case
persists.

Just

out
of reach.

 

Though chances
ebb
my heart still
lacks

self-love
enough
to
stop

that search.

 

This quiet

craving.

 

For
some
sense of

full
esteem.

 

 

Which never

grew

 

within.

 

 

 

---

 

 

Fame!

 

At last. 🤩

“Beyond my wildest dreams!!”  🙌 🎉

 

(Well, er, maybe not that far, but…)

 

Bristol 24/7  SW England’s biggest independent magazine
published a piece about me, this month:

“Blogging against oblivion“

I promised them to put the link here.
And ask if you lovely people could be kind enough to click it, for a moment?🙏

 

That article is the only recognition I have ever had, outside of WordPress.

(Given my obscurity, age, and poor health: it might remain singular.)

The feature contains biographical information, plus artwork and photography.

 

I don’t enjoy self-promotion. Yet, perhaps, you will forgive me, on such an occasion?

So, please, take a look, if you can.

 

Did you like any of the images?

I hope you found it of some interest?

Comments are always VERY welcome!🤞🏻🙂

 

Thank you
for reading.

 

 

(PS: Any art, or photography, on the blog is mine.)

---

( art / blog / blogging / depression / drawing /  fame / life / mental health / photography / poem / poems / poetry / reading / thoughts / writing )

 

Forgotten happiness

 

 

 

 

 

When I was a small boy
at the zoo

This world seemed
fresh.

And yet

If someone told me
then
how lonely
life would grow.

What could I have done
(or changed)
to stop that fate?

 

(Hence
not finish up
as melancholic.
Black-clad
faded soul.

Like a goth in spirit.

Minus
style.)

 

 

 

Perhaps long illness shows us
who our true friends are?

With mine revealing
I had none.

Except
a loving uncle.

Close
until the end.

 

His photographs were left for me.
Preserving childhood days.

Those early sunlit trips
escaped oblivion
again.

 

 

 
To my surprise
he claimed I’d been
a source of fun and joy.

 

(Depression
arrived later.

Once art waned
I lost my way.)

 

His favourite picture
caught me unaware
a swan approached
behind.

 

 

 

 

Recently
I found an unseen image
of what happened next.

 

He’d made it known
the bird drew near.

So I turned back
delightedly.

 

 

 

 

Thus
these few shots

which now
survive

though blurred
or aged

might still display

their faint remains

 

of such

(forgotten)

 

happiness.

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

(This is my third

Birthday blog post.

🎂

After 30 years of spending them alone (and ill)
I often feel sadness, on the day.
It tends to emphasise continued isolation.

My uncle used to ring me.
But, since his death, the phone stays, mostly, silent.)

 

Hope everybody is well?

Do you like any of the photos?

 

Comments are always VERY welcome!

 

Thank you
for reading.

 

---

( art / blog / blogging / depression / goth / life / mental health / photography / poem / poems / poetry / reading / thoughts / writing )

Elusive

 

 

Phrases arrive.

Discrete.
Homespun.

Through various fathomless
apertures
of sense.

Like empty sprites
word-bubbles
flash.

 

Then these visitors
(vanishing)
shrink to a speck.

Cross reeling
complexities.

 

Weaving down
past deeper veils.

Where older shades
lay mingled
in their graves.

With an
enigmatic
trace.

 

And thus
(I found)
remained.

Only certain
broken

images.

 

 

Half-

purified.

 

 

By
dream.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

(Above is a revised poem, from when I was 23.)

I’m still unable to write fresh poetry, since a recent illness.
Post-viral depression eased, yet the creative spark’s gone missing.

 

 

 

---

 

 

 

I’ve spent more time than usual on WordPress in the last few months.
Enjoyed discovering loads of new writers, poets, artists, and photographers.

As a result the number of blogs I follow has reached about 240.
This is making it difficult to keep up!
(So far, I try to read every post from blogs I follow.)

Seeing my audience grow is exciting.
(I’m truly grateful to each one of you.)

Though I also feel quite guilty, for not following back all 
of those who are kind enough to follow me.
But the number (700+) seems rather large to make that practical?

 

I’d love to hear how many blogs other readers follow?

Do you think 240 is a lot?
Or am I being a WordPress wimp?🙂

Do you ever feel bad for not following people back?
Do you follow blogs you don’t actually read?

(I worry that over 300 may become hard to focus on?)

 

To be honest, I notice myself hesitate about following long-form, writers, lately.
Especially if they post more than once per day.

I’m much happier to follow those posting weekly, or infrequently.
Plus, art and photography blogs (which are often less text-heavy).

 

Comments are always VERY welcome!🙏

 

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

 

Thank you
for reading.

 

---

( anxiety / art / blog / blogging / drawing / life / mental health / photography / poem / poems / poetry / reading / writing )

The summons

 

 

Hear our call!

Come journey
into dark.

 

Where those dead
seem closer.

And the live
more lost.

 

Sense furious spirits

Curse chasms
of extinction.

 

Feel your flesh
watched

by some inhuman
eyes.

 

Let us stalk
ruthless

and empty.

 

Through echoing
passions

 

grown stronger

 

than
minds.

 

 

 

 

---

 

(I created this piece on the same evening as Pale mistress.

Conceiving both as “Vampire poems.”

A similar mood recurred, decades later, when City night arrived in my head.

Yet the muse has deserted me, again, since it was written.)

 

Behind such works, lay youthful dreams of romantic adventure.
A painful time: when I adored women, with no idea how to attract them.

I remember a Bauhaus gig in 1979. Then wishing for a goth girlfriend.
(While feeling they had zero interest in me.)

One photograph from around those days is on the (May 2019) post A reject.

 

Due to illness, I’m even paler and thinner, now.
Though a bit old for studs or leather!

At least I can still wear black.

🖤  🙂

 

 

---

 

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

Were you ever part of a musical subculture?
Or drawn to a style connected with one?

Comments are always VERY welcome! 🙏

 

Thank you
for reading.

 

---

( art / beauty / blog / drawing / goth / mental health / music / photography / poem / poems / poetry / reading / vampire / writing )

Secrets are for spies

 

 

 

Explore a face.

 

 

Mine reveals little.

 

This tired old mug:

fit only
to be endured.

 

Though
sometimes
my mouth
bears fruit.

 

 

Yet secrets remain.

 

I can’t help you with them.

 

 

 

Secrets
are for spies.

 

 

 

 

 

 

---

 

The poem above was the last piece of writing from my teens.

Your comments are always welcome! 😊

Hope everybody is well? 🙏

 

Thank you
for reading.

 

(Any art or image on the blog is mine.)

---

 

 

Update:

Apologies if this post is less coherent than normal.
Disorientation prevents proper concentration and editing.

I’m really struggling, presently.
The virus, mentioned before, has flared up for a third weekend running.
(Assume it’s flu, but don’t understand why symptoms keep recurring, intead of easing?)

Feeling feverish, exhausted, and in great pain.
Very difficult sitting at my computer, or focussing on words.

Though I refuse to abandon blogging.

Starting to get anxious about the current situation.

Was too poorly for much shopping, during recent weeks.
Using limited reserves.

Venturing out midweek(after five days) I found supermarkets almost stripped of food.
Never seen anything like it.
Now I can’t restock.

I’ve largely been socially isolated for almost 30 years, due to chronic health problems. Going to the shops is the only place I regularly get near others.
Yet still catch colds and flu.
Buses are full of coughing people, all year round, in England.

 

---

( anxiety / art / blog / blogging / depression / life / mental health / photography / poem / poems / poetry / reading / thoughts / writing )

Goodbye

 

 

Goodbye.

Said not just
at a passing year

But for my last decade.

(I won’t survive to end the next.)

Instead
I’m quietly drifting out
toward a closing dark.

Its cold seas wait.

They’ll drag me from
all light.

Through depths that
none escape.

 

While looking back
upon a life
now seen as largely waste.

Youth’s foolish thought:
“There’s always time…”

Left any gifts
so long neglected.

Til

the chance
to track their thread
round fate’s labyrinth

grew faint.

 

Then lost

 

in
night.

 

 

 

 

---

 

Goodbye constant blogging?

 

Wanting this blog to grow, yet finding stats stay almost flat for two years:
I may take occasional Sundays off, in 2020, and try a different approach.

I read social media could help increase an audience, but have never used it.
Does anybody know which platforms are best for poetry?

 

---

 

 

Update!

 

My new year started with an extra health problem: Serious internal bleeding.

A doctor told me I should’ve gone straight to hospital, and may need transfusion.
(I already had long-term, unexplained, anaemia.)

He said that I could die if it happens again.

Was instructed to rest. (Probably shouldn’t be writing this post.)

 

Feeling really anxious, drained, and alone, at present, folks.

Clinging to the comfort of routine.

 

Please wish me luck.

 

Comments are always VERY welcome! 🙏

 

 

Thank you all for reading.

 

---

 

(PS:
I intend to blog next Sunday. So, any lack of post will be a bad sign.

Afraid I have no-one to update you on my situation, if it deteriorates.)

 

---

( anxiety / art / blog / blogging / depression / life / mental health / photography / poem / poetry / reading / thoughts / writing )

 

Seven good things about blogging!

 

 

Blogging has its lows, I know.

Times when stats flatline, and fall.
As silence reigns across the site.
Those hoped-for comments don’t appear.
Five days go by without a view.
Followers lost
not gained.

(Third year in, I get such weeks.)

Yet there are upsides, too.
Hence the title: used above.

That said
I’ll start my list…

 

---

 

 

Seven good things about blogging!

1) Making connections.
(Seeing people return, until their avatars become akin to friends.)

2) The thrill of an arriving comment.
(Especially if you get very few. Often the case for me.)

3) Finding a fascinating blog.
(The pointer glides toward that “follow” sign. Resistance growing futile.)

4) Being first to “Like” a post.
(Or boost an unfairly-neglected one. Giving encouragement.)

5) Wishing a new blogger good luck.
(Sparing them commentless months: whence I began.)

6) Assisting someone to overcome a problem.
(Particularly mistakes I once made myself.)

7) Being deeply moved by a piece.
(Having my worldview changed.)

 

---

 

(One memorable example of (7) occurred in discovering a post about Ehlers-Danlos Syndromes, called The Reality of Living with Chronic Illnesses , by Julianna.

Her sufferings were far worse than I’d imagined.

Next, I found a video on the subject. It was upsetting to watch.

Then a wave of shame spread through me.
I recalled moaning over my own symptoms, to Wendi (from Simply Chronically Ill ).
Who endures Ehlers-Danlos.

I regretted avoiding research, instead of lazy vague ideas.
Too late, now.
(With luck, she’ll forgive me.)

Hence, if a single good thing might come from these thoughts, it would be
an increased awareness of EDS.)

 

---

 

So, what do YOU most enjoy about blogging?

Any of the points mentioned?
All of them?
Or none?

Have I left something out?

Please add a comment.

THANK YOU!

 

---

 

(PS:

A note to regular readers surprised by an outbreak of uncharacteristic positivity.

My spirits were raised after interacting with several favourite writers and supporters, namely:
River Dixon, Mike Campbell, Yassy, Larisa, Luna, Wendi, Linda R Davis, Elan Mudrow:
who visited a festive comment section, last week.
Which helped the Christmas period feel less isolating than usual.
(For a person spending his 28th Xmas alone.)

But fear not! Eccentric order may soon be restored.
Strange art and sad poetry, remain in the pipeline.

I also continue to class myself as a failure on WordPress.

Just between us (don’t tell!).
My guiltiest secret desire during 2019 was for someone to push that “reblog” button.

It never happened, of course.

Ah well: perhaps I can write content worth sharing in 2020?

(“Dream on!” says an inner voice.))

 

 

---

 

I shall end by wishing a

Happy New Year!  🎉

to you all.

 

Thank’s for reading.

 

---

( anxiety / art / blog / depression / humor / illness / life / mental health / photography / poetry / reading / thoughts / writing )