Fear
after Raymond Carver
Fear of cancer returning
That phone call in the night
Fear of Donald Trump
Fear of what is in these sausages that I do not know about
Fear of the Hadron Collider
Something happening to my children
Fear of being asked am I writing
Fear of what other poets think
Fear of what Trump might do to the planet
Fear of writing
Fear of not writing
Falling asleep at the wheel
Fear of being found out
Fear of protesting
Fear of being snatched in the night and tortured
Fear of waking up alone
Fear of Brexit
Fear of cheese
Fear of my arteries
Fear of my bones, my lungs
Fear of the colour purple
Fear of lambs
Fear of my neighbour’s dog
Fear of letting him know I am afraid
Fear of poets
What Trump has already done to the planet
My grandfather though he is no longer here
Fear of death
Fear of dancing at parties
Fear of drinking too much and saying inappropriate things
Fear of reading the wrong poets
Fear of my baldness
Fear of shopping
Fear of Christmas
Fear of notebooks, the empty ones
Fear of large groups of teenagers
Fear of being invisible
Fear of losing my sight
Fear of losing my friends
Fear of my cancer returning
Fear of writing
I think you missed out the Big One? 😉 Or maybe it’s there somewhere, as it tends to be, behind all our fears.
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I think it’s implied throughout
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Oh yes…except the baldness…and your grandfather…
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Well of course. It’s specific to me and therefore universal. Kind of. X A
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Yup. Those and other things. And fear of wasting time thinking about them.
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Brilliant! Might Mark II be ‘courage to…….? Anyway, thanks so much for this. Right time. Right place. Right sentiments from many angles and for many reasons.
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Maybe. Perhaps. Nice idea.
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Yes, just this, and the rest. Thank you for speaking with and for me today. Take courage in these words being a light in our world.
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Thank you so much for saying that Roz. Really appreciate it.
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Sounds like my mental racing lists when I wake up at night…
The one thing you need not fear is the Large Hadron Collider. I’ve been down there with my children (when it was switched off for maintenance, I hasten to add) and it was fascinating and very safe. Mind you, at some point a weasel did get caught in it and burnt to cinders… but also stopped the whole thing for about a week. Very fragile, probably more so than you and I.
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I’m fascinated by it. I wish I understood it more betterer.
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Last week
I woke up to Trump in the high-seat of the world
I woke up to Leonard Cohen already buried in Montreal
I woke up with so many fears
and a moon that I last saw the year I was born.
What a week!!
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This poetry-list covers it all, Anthony. May love, kindness, and poetry prevail!
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Absolutely!
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Coincidentally I have recently written a poem called “A few things that frighten me”. Would you like to read it? It is quite different to yours, although now I could easily add a verse or two.
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