My poem “While Drowning I Gaze at the Moon” is live at Muleskinner Journal. Thank you to Gary Campanella and the Muleskinner Team for taking this piece.
O at the Edges
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
O at the Edges 
Dying sucks. Yeah. Hate when that happens. My time too is coming soon enough.
Much love to you, Robert. It has been an honor to know you and a blessing to read your work. Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Bob. Dying is, well, annoying! But I feel much better today than I felt a year ago. My body has responded well to treatment, and I’m forging ahead, still curious, still embracing every day.
LikeLike
Oh, and love the play on the word sucks.
LikeLiked by 1 person
As in a drain.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Wordplay is my life. 😄
LikeLiked by 2 people
Congratulations, Bob.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Ken.
LikeLiked by 1 person
wow, vivid and powerful, Robert.. well deserved pub❣️
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks very much, Cindy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Congratulations.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Andrew.
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That ending line hits mighty hard, Robert. What a strong poem!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks very much, Tre. I spent five months of nights staring out at the moon!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re most welcome. The moon can be mesmerizing. Enjoy the weekend, sir.
LikeLiked by 1 person
And you, too, Tre!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Congratulations on the publication of your poem. I was moved by it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Liz. It’s good to still be here!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome, Bob! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Congratulations. What can we do but howl at the moon? (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Kerfe. Back in Texas, I used to howl and yip at the moon along with the coyotes. I’m not certain that they appreciated it. 😃
LikeLiked by 1 person
The more the merrier I say.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I agree, but the coyotes often quieted when I joined them. Critics!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Perhaps they were admiring your voice.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, that must be it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
So well expressed with that final touch of anguish
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Derrick. Those simple words encapsulate my feelings on the subject. 🙂 But truthfully, I feel blessed to have been given this additional time.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Fully understood
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dear Bob:
Thank you for the truth of this poem Every word hits its mark. Te even capture the necesssary humor, its darkness and bravery, ald the full insistence in still being here. All that is possible in being especially when it sucks. Congratulations.
Karen Keefe
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Karen. I’m able to sleep again, in bed. The moon is a steady companion, if a tad aloof. 🙂
LikeLike
Slrrping in a bed again is wonderful news. Hurray!
LikeLiked by 1 person
You never know how much you’ll miss something…
LikeLike
Nice! You want to read Li Bai’s “Quiet Night Thoughts” while not being able to have those same thoughts. If only people knew how structured and carefully considered your references are…
LikeLiked by 1 person
You nailed it, Daniel! My version from ten years ago: https://robertokaji.com/2014/03/16/late-night-after-li-po/
LikeLiked by 1 person
Runs the emotional gamut Robert and runs like a deer! You remain undefeated.PeaceD
Sent from AT&T Yahoo Mail on Android
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Dan. Still standing!
LikeLike
My memory fails me; did you lose your voice in the course of treatment? That is one of the most unfair effects, when we should be allowed at the very least a primal scream. In any case, it rings loud and clear here and I’m so glad to hear it.
LikeLiked by 2 people
No, it was one of the odd symptoms caused by the lung masses (along with bradycardia). It finally returned in full force in December. I was still able to whine, but the voice would break. Ha.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you for visiting me in Twitter. I like seeing your name pop up. I felt these words keenly, and it makes me glad (inspite of the anguish) that you can express it all still. Sometimes bad times mute me.
How do you feel about cut-up poems?
LikeLike