The Old Man Remembers
- Details
- Written March 2025
... he feels nothing,
Pull out his teeth
...we weep with him
Do something horrid
...he forgets it in a sec
Offer him kindness
...he remembers it forever
He loses a child
...the herd grieves with him
Show him what he looks like
...he says what's that
We try and tell him
... he says try again.
March 2025
The African Elelphant
(Loxodonta Cyclotis)
A giggle after trying to paint something that looked ike an elephant.
The Gown
- Details
- Written February 2025
This is not cotton baked in the field, then woven
Into cloth that cools as she dances,
Nor machine-made filaments that tickle the skin,
Or olden-day flax simply meant for a sack,
But the finest of threads graciously given
By the worm that cocoons itself for death
Until we come and unravel what she made
Preparing for a family’s future.
But now the gown is shaped and fashioned,
Its folds adding grace as it trails behind
In the best of the dance floor,
Delighting a cheering crowd,
Watching the fleckerl of a Viennese waltz
While the silkworm keeps up her spinning.
February 2025
Watching Strictly Come Dancing with Wendy has introduced me to some of the steps on the dance-floor, and then a day with water-colours!
Something More from Nothing
- Details
- Written September 2024
The blank page waits for randomised scribbles,
Giving opportunity for it to reflect what it's become
So that creator can work with harmony to make form
Out of formlessness, structure out of chaos,
As the balance of left and right, top and bottom
Starts to make sense in the mind of someone
Not yet there, but willing to become someone
Also made out of nothing, and remaining just that,
Almost fatalistically responding to what happens.
But then comes the moment of dawning:
It really is something - and so am I,
Though someone else sees something else,
And I'm once again left wondering what's what
And who am I.
Giving opportunity for it to reflect what it's become
So that creator can work with harmony to make form
Out of formlessness, structure out of chaos,
As the balance of left and right, top and bottom
Starts to make sense in the mind of someone
Not yet there, but willing to become someone
Also made out of nothing, and remaining just that,
Almost fatalistically responding to what happens.
But then comes the moment of dawning:
It really is something - and so am I,
Though someone else sees something else,
And I'm once again left wondering what's what
And who am I.
September 2024.
The Onion
- Details
- Written January 2025
And squeezed until you sneeze,
Tears rolling down the cheeks
And all you can do is sniff
Because wiping makes it worse,
And you end up wishing
It would stop, but know it won't
As the damage is done,
So you say why did I ever start?
But the stove is on
And the pan waits
So the sneeze becomes a sizzle
As an aroma fills the air
And you can finally blow it all away.
December 2024
While painting an onion!
Creation
- Details
- Written February 2024
Raindrops splashed one after another,
Guided by winds of change breezing
Up this way, down another into a swirl
Enabling discovery of something new
As beauty emerges from the depths of darkness,
While the brush tames it into structure and form.
No chance encounter or accidental mess,
But a creator working behind, in front, or in it all,
Until he transfers what he has made,
Travelling miles per nanosecond into a hazy past,
The shaft of light breaking up spectrally,
Synthesising the image to become our own,
Embedded and stored as another memory.
On watching Colin Brown demonstrating his style of painting to Chislehurst Artists.
February 2024