Seamus Heaney Bronze bust by Philip Flannagan
Mid-Term Break
I sat all morning in the college sick bay
Counting bells knelling classes to a close.
At two o'clock our neighbours drove me home.
In the porch I met my father crying—
He had always taken funerals in his stride—
And Big Jim Evans saying it was a hard blow.
The baby cooed and laughed and rocked the pram
When I came in, and I was embarrassed
By old men standing up to shake my hand
And tell me they were 'sorry for my trouble'.
Whispers informed strangers I was the eldest,
Away at school, as my mother held my hand
In hers and coughed out angry tearless sighs.
At ten o'clock the ambulance arrived
With the corpse, stanched and bandaged by the nurses.
Next morning I went up into the room. Snowdrops
And candles soothed the bedside; I saw him
For the first time in six weeks. Paler now,
Wearing a poppy bruise on his left temple,
He lay in the four-foot box as in his cot.
No gaudy scars, the bumper knocked him clear.
A four-foot box, a foot for every year.
Gene, you may not realise this, but your total inability to muster any credible negotiating tactics is becoming more evident by the hour. Hence your reliance on fictional conversations with your erstwhile drunkards' club, of the invention of totally unbelievable characters like "Mary Winterbourne" [although as a failed novelist, your iniventing of unbelievable characters comes naturally to you]. And your friend, imaginary or not as may be, is completely wrong. All I need to do is to remain intransigent and refuse to budge, and you are bound to cave in. Why delay the inevitable?
ReplyDeleteAnd remember, Gene, every time you post as "Mary Winterbourne" you harden my resolve finally to end this demented nonsense with no warning. You don't seem to realise that I am actually cutting you some slack by offering you terms on which your blog can continue. If this ridiculous "Mary Winterbourne" charade extends to ONE MORE POST then I shall write to Fr Nicholas Schofield without any further notice to you. My approach will be that one of his parishioners, or at least one of prominent Catholics in his area is exhibiting symptoms of a serious pyschosis, and that it is his priestly duty to come to your aid as soon as possible. No priest could ignore such a warning or even see it as malicious, given that the evidence I shall furnish him will document the progression of your fugue.
Gene, I am getting mightily pissed off with your puerile and intelligence-insulting attempts to delay the inevitable, and the moment will soon come when I stop attempting to give you a chance to get off the hook and simply go for your jugular.
In the meantime I am prepared to alter NOT ONE SYLLABLE of the terms on which I am prepared to agree to a truce: once again, Gene.
You have until Midsummer's Day to comply.
Gene, you need to look up the word negotiation and see what it actually means - it means two people of equal standing solving a problem between them to their mutual benefit, neither of which criteria apply to us.
We do not enjoy equal standing: thanks to the your nastiness and malice, the perverted filth and the dirty minded nonsense you have published about me and mine over the years, I am in a position to ruin your standing among the Catholic community of Uxbridge and the Westminster Diocese, and I will not hesitate to do so.
You have no such power with regard to me, and hence you are in no position to negotiate, hence the bluster, and this nonsensical business about "Mary Winterbourne" - don't insult my intelligence.
You wish to benefit by continuing your blog, and I am prepared to allow this if you fulfil the conditions below to the letter during a time scale to be mutually agreed - I suggest Midsummer's Day:
[1] that all references of any kind on this blog to my wife, my son, any members of my family and myself are removed forthwith - this includes all such references made at any time in the last eleven years.
[2] that all references to TES Opinion, my role on TES Opinion and "the clique" on this blog are removed forthwith - this includes all such references made at any time in the last eleven years.
[3] that no references of any kind, overt or covert, to the subjects listed at [1] and [2] above are made on this blog ever again. The term "references" must include written posts or pictures - photographs, cartoons, paintings, drawing - which purport to portray my wife, my son, my family and myself.
Finally, you will post a withdrawal of the accusation that "Myrtle Thornberry" committed suicide after being persecuted by "The Clique", and make an unconditional apology for having both made, and persisted in, that accusation.
For my part I undertake never to post on your blog ever again unless you breach any of the conditions outlined at [1], [2] and [3] above.
Those are my terms for a truce, and they are not negotiable.