Somehow, I missed this, but in late April my poem “These Upright Nights” was published by Broadkill Review. Thank you, Jamie Brown, for accepting this poem, which is another of my hendecasyllabic series.
Poem Up at Broadkill Review
O at the Edges
Musings on poetry, language, perception, numbers, food, and anything else that slips through the cracks.
O at the Edges 
Congrats, Bob – and I hope your upright nights are over!
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Thanks, Lynne. They lasted over five months, but thanks to modern science, I’ve been back in bed for quite some time! The pre-diagnosis (pre-pain killer) months were the worst.
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Yikes! Because of allergies and/or coughs, I’ve had plenty of nights sitting upright against 4 pillows instead of lying down sleeping so i completely understand the relief you must feel now!
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It was a combination of hip pain (fractured pelvis from the cancer), coughing, and discomfort from a newly implanted pacemaker (symptoms caused by the cancer). No fun! But chemo/immunotherapy and opioids made the return to bed possible. What a crazy, miserable period.
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Yikes! You’ve been through the mill, Bob, and yet your poems so elegantly and gently grace the page.
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Pain and illness kept me from writing for a year. It’s good to be back. I certainly don’t take this gift of time for granted.
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👏👏👏 way to go❣️
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Thank you, Cindy!
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Pleasure ! 🩷
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Well done, Bob. And congratulations.
Yes, keep breathing.
Life into words, into every moment.
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Thanks, Ken. 60% of the way through radiation. Still breathing. ☢️
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Congrats!
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Thanks, Andrew.
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You’re welcome.
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Congratulations on the publication, Bob! Those upright nights sound just torturous. I hope they’ve eased up on you.
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Thanks, Liz. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that they don’t repeat. The good news is that recent bone scans show nothing untoward going on in my pelvis. The fracture has healed and there’s no longer cancer there.
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You’re welcome, Bob. That’s wonderful news about your pelvis!
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Now if only those damned lesions would quit popping up in my brain! Oh, well. I’m grateful for any, and every, victory.
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Visceral and moving, both. (K)
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It’s been a strange few weeks, with different symptoms take the forefront. But I’ve completed a radiation sequence, which has helped (though side effects are beginning to stir). Still, I count my blessings!
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So good, always, to hear your voice. Sending best, K.
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Am glad to still be here!
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Exactly my experience of this poem.
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I’m starting to get annoyed with this cancer crap, but it does fill the days and is all-consuming in multiple ways.
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Like torture, but you find the words. Thank you for sharing this. I am wanting to ask you a question I always wondered.
Can you tell about the origin of the title of your blog, O at the edges?
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Thanks, P.S. I’ve always been interested in the liminal, in borders, in those things seen from the corner of one’s eye, and have felt, as a person of two cultures, more comfortable at the edges, observing. Hence the name.
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Love that story, and it sounds like you 🙂 thanks for answering my question
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You’re very welcome. “O at the Edges” is also the title of an unpublished poem I drafted in 2012. I’ve received excellent feedback in two workshops, but that hasn’t led to publication. But not all poems need to be published. I’m happy to have written it.
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Hi Rob, I missed this wonderful poem too … congratulations and are we allowed to celebrate with a few red wines 🍷😊📖
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Thanks, Ivor. Yes, a hearty red will do. I’m sipping a sparkling white from Sonoma County.
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Great … oh, I borrowed a line of yours from your poem “Flame”
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Beautifully penned Robert. Last line says it all … just breathe! Though the pain is palpable, hope the recovery is much better.
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Thank you! Thanks to modern science, the pain has subsided since those days.
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Good gravy I’m missing all the good stuff bogged down in modern world complications and bureaucracy.
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Ah, those damned modern world complications! They made me cancel a trip I’d been looking forward to for quite some time. But home is good, too.
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