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.

 

 

 

 

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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? 🙏)

 

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

Advertisement

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.)

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

 

Internet magic!

 

 

What a magical place the internet seemed.

Once I signed up for e-mail, transformations began.

Charming ladies, were keen to date.
(Identifying as “hot local milfs.”)

These sounded a pleasant change
from those ice maidens
who blanked me
on lonely shopping trips.

 

Next, appeared financial offers
by the very rich.

People warned against responding.
Revealing cynical negativity.

“Your worldview must be sad, indeed,” I thought,
“Not trusting Nigerian royalty
with basic bank details.”

 

Sharp insight of strangers, also impressed.
Intuiting hidden desires.
For male enhancement products.
And female company.

How could they possibly know me, so well?
It felt a little spooky.

 

Though other messages made no sense.
As if tormented minds shared
deranged states.

Some spam undermined itself
using blatant brand names
in a web address.

 

But certain complimentary mail
one wished were genuine.

 

“You’ve done a formidable job on the blog!”
Said Google.com
“Our community’s grateful to you.”

Had tech giants noticed Me?
Then why did stats stay low?

 

A special comment lit new sparks
amid my loneliness:

“I’m extremely pleased, finding your great site!”
Wrote Ukraine high-class escort.

“I truly savoured every part of it.
And have you saved in favourite.”

 

Might this be my muse, at last?
Wistfully, I sighed.
Imagining melancholy beauty.
A passionate Slavic soul.

I yearned to hear her exotic accent.
Or speak my only Russian words.
(Perhaps provoke a smile?)

Alas!
Grown too old to meet her, now.

(Could I even afford to?)

 

Yet
a poor man still has dreams.

(Shameful
I confess.)

 

 

That internet magic
just
persists.

 

And keeps me

in

 

its spell.

 

 

 

 

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(Should this piece have a British irony alert, at the top?
Can my sense of humour work without emojis?)

 

I took a blogging break, this month; for the first time in three years.
Had fun, discovering new sites, and interacting.

Meant to post last Sunday, but messed up.
A poem refused to go right.
Anxiety set in.
(“Maybe I can’t write poetry any more?”)

Then late night, brain-fog, and exhaustion, wore me down.
So another week was lost.

 

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

Do you ever enjoy spam?

Comments are always VERY welcome!🙏

Thank you
for reading.

 

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( anxiety / art / beauty / blog / drawing / humor / humour / life / mental health / poem / poems / poetry / reading / writing )