E Y E W E A R, THE BLOG - FREEDOM MEANS BEING UNAFRAID TO WRITE WHAT YOU THINK

Conscience The meaning is there, if that's what you want. (Merce Cunningham ) Shades of silence, and the ear asks questions the mind can't answer. Taking a turn filling a temporal frame, something anonymous that now has a name is reading the mirror, a face returning once again to a place where truth could have been shared out when curating gardens a child was planted in. Circumstance removed the born centre, took out the fixed point to enter other rooms, now sensing conscience in this space, in its absence. Seán Street Seán Street has produced eight collections, the latest of which, Cello , was published in 2013 by Rockingham Press. His latest prose work is The Poetry of Radio – The Colour of Sound .   Previous writings include books on Gerard Manley Hopkins and The Dymock Poets. He is currently working on a book exploring the relationship between sound and memory, to be pub...

The Way In After M. R. James’s ghost story, “The Mezzotint,” the picture of the mansion watched for change becomes the camera view on internet, where anyone may go and view the entrance to a home. They’ll not stop there but scroll along the edges of the scene, to follow curves of driveways, walks or, now emboldened, cut across the lawn, find entry through a window to our private lives.   Morgan Harlow is the author of Midwest Ritual Burning (Eyewear Publishing, 2012). She is at work on a novel, An Interview with Joey Lobos , and a second collection of poems.

Eyewear is a blog that values the rule of law, within reason.  While, a week or so ago, the blog began featuring poems by poets writing on - and often in praise of - the American spy and whistleblower, Edward Snowden , at no time has the editorial policy been to praise or condone illegal activity, even if by a member of the intelligence community.  Indeed, the initial sense that Snowden was a hero has been somewhat dampened by his extraordinary personal flight, from Hong Kong, to Russia, then Cuba, and on to Venezuela, aided by China and Russia along the way. Friends of human rights should take pause at that odd list of allies, for when an agent of espionage is supported by enemies of America, suspicions must be raised.  What is Snowden up to?  Evading punishment, for one thing - but when Eyewear first praised the man, again, before he had been charged with a crime by the US authorities, he seemed to be stepping forward, as Socrates , and Christ , and Mandela did...

The Secret Stalker Robert Vas Dias say I'm very interested in you say you're also interesting to the government say the government becomes interested in me             because I'm very interested in you say you're not interested in the government             being interested in you say the government is stalking you say we don't know the government is stalking you say the government is stalking me             because they're stalking you             and because the government knows             how interested I am in you say the fact the government is stalking you is leaked say I learn the government is also stalking me say we're more interested in the government ...

TAKEN                                                 my respect to Edward Snowden I want you inside out and side to side, holus-bolus. I know your ear tag stamps, your daily rants, the lies you told your lovers. I know your pick-up lines, your escape routes, your air miles. I know you’re often broke, I know you hate the Pope. I know your drunken grin, I know your next of kin. You feed me no end and I peep for more – but you feast on me too. You try to throw me up but I find my way back. Each you confide in is my bitch. Don’t even dare ask. You are mine. AGNES MARTON: Hungarian-born poet. She has been working in publishing since 1991. She participates in...

Redacted Stuck again we came up with something else Tried gluing the cardboard ends of worlds To our heads and backs like The defensive plates and spikes Of dinosaurs we weren’t but were becoming Or drove out west like a movie we remem ber Where girls feet rest on the dash Window prism light listening to electric chatter And music seems part of the sunny world That is escaping last air from a thought balloon The gentle breeze backyard backdrop Of evergreen trees allows a long strand of Web the faintest visibility floating like This will be the last word spoken or Overheard no this will—Kalamazoo But then the Internet didn’t care anymore Though it went on recording every gentle Key caress and whoever we were outside information We stood together and with our chemicals And held death a little closer to our whispering lips When we text it is barely the memory of bird song T...