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

PRE-OP SPRING DAY IN MARCH 2022 It's been too long till spring -     is false. It's here, in time. just as it always was, a thing     like a wheel or a poem, rhyme; that is, it has its schedule,     takes its turn, happens as it does. Still, the sun climbing trees, I'm full     to bursting with light's to and fros. All is event, like thought, argument,     war or love; like a pacemaker device, implant I fear to have, spent     hours returning like a general to their tent. It's life itself that surveys     maps, terrain, future battlefields. Nothing less than this glorious day     of impractical miracle-sun, big yields, obliterates memories of lockdown, shelters     underground, darkness that preys on mind and heart-valves, those skelters     that turn about like unlovers, May's dancers around the burgeoning pole.     I'm alive, for now, pre-op, thoughtful, re-reading The School...

I have remained silent at my blog about the terrible invasion of Ukraine, because I have been ill, and also didn't want to say anything useless, as if my voice or opinion on this matter had much sway. I am now going to try and compile a fundraising anthology of poems, because I have experience of doing such things, and it seems a small way to raise some money, and perhaps print a few good poems that may inspire others to also help a refugee, or give some money or other material benefit. This is obviously a very dark and troubling time in our history, and I am worried of escalation to atomic weapon use, or chemical and biological weapons. I light a candle for Ukraine in my window. I will write more about the anthology soon, after my operation. Hopefully the peace deal will come soon.

My report will be brief this year - I am grateful to be alive. 2021 was a very tough year for a lot of people - and 2022 looks to be also very challenging. Up until December, 2021, I would have said the best of the year was keeping the Eyewear publishing company going so it could reach its 10th year (2022), and therefore keeping a small good team in work; and 100s of books in print. Personally, hiking in Northern Ireland/the North of Ireland, and doing wild swimming, and training with Al Beard, and Wimbledon, would have been summer highlights; plus great sporting events, and the English almost winning the Euros... Then, a few days before Christmas, I went into the hospital for heart failure; I have a large blood clot on my heart, and my heart was only working 17% or so. Now it is up to 22%. I am off work, and still seriously ill, on 15 or more tablets a day. My family is worried, it is a super worrying time. I am focused on recovery, doing what must be done, staying calm as possible. I...

Depending on where you live in Europe, 'Christmas is cancelled' is already a thing. Lockdowns and major new waves of Delta/Omicron have already started in Ireland, Germany, Austria, the Netherlands, and beyond. Travel is being curtailed, as is access to pubs, restaurants and crowded events. In England, the most laissez-faire of the UK's nations, there is a sort of blasé exceptionalism, commingled with a frantic surge in third (and fourth) vaccinations (boosters). The UK government has been keen to normalise the situation since summer, and 'move the conversation on' - the new variant is a bloody impertinence, and not on message at all. This blog and its chief writer-editor are not optimists. I find the history of human conduct to be an almost infinite library of ignorance, cruelty and self-interest, leavened at times with striking acts of sacrifice, wisdom, and kindness noteworthy by their relative rarity. Violence and depravity seem hard-wired, but even if it is onl...

 

 C rucifixum docet veritatem I am there now, the place where I can say to you directly What the tricks of language Can hinder or form, I know that to keep it interesting Is the price of attention, you go Variously across the field, It’s a show, and a tell, but the main fact Is talking, some sharing, a gesture Out to another, maybe a friend Who is not even real, yet, An apparition of apprehension, Expected attendee at the imaginary Reading in the heaven of elsewhere, That place without pornography, Alcohol, violence, pills, and screaming; That ice palace of peace, unlike any Genuine mind, I am on the boil, A lobster reddening, on ferocious Pain attention, it’s all apart now, Break it open, and they mock it up, The they are you, and elseward to the world, You know I am hated, have felt that slap; Have been kicked to the concrete And licked a boot; had a cigarette appoint Itself its red dragon my maker; Thank you, masters of the cruel quickening; I know now a meaning, a need Greater t...

  NOVEMBER 2021   War is coming or maybe it has begun just like somewhere   it is already the sun over the banners just like Bannon   is never alone so long as there is a phone; plans percolate;   waters rise, small nations drown; deafening tanks blitz a bit in the Eastern part of town   and all Mrs Kane's pieces begin to fit; destiny is on a date with a modern Kaiser;   the West bides its time not wanting to blurt havoc and let the dogs out   just yet; no one wants guerre when they can enjoy butter; but errors happen, Chief,   as do impactful mental states; the great men of history may have downsized a tad,   though hypersonic threats move past mortal disbelief to break a lot of conference plates.