(1) Red Table.(Trevor). (2) Triptych, Three Short related Poems. (3) False Dawn.

                     1.

      Red Table. (Trevor)


Suddenly, there on the screen
Was the portrait;
Myself, disguised as a drifter,
A South Bank down and out,
Mournfully contemplating my freebie breakfast
On a February afternoon.

I stood stone still
In the cold grey light
Studying a dessicated double egg and bacon
That the artist had thrown down
On a bright red table cloth
And allowed to rot for a week.

This, however, is not how I would publicize myself
If given half a chance.
I would bin that old string vest for a start,
And wear a more elaborate watch,
Perhaps I would even shave,
Comb my curly locks.
But I had little choice in these matters,
I was down upon my luck
And the artist was forking out some wages
So I had to lump it and like it.

If I had been granted a choice
The medium would have been music
Not paint on canvas,
A symphony perhaps
Or a contemplative string quartet,
To portray my mid life angst,
(My mother had recently died
And the old man was playing me up).

Something by Schnittke maybe?
Something with crashing brass
And sonorous violins,
The occasional vibraphone,
Such a neatly controlled dissonance
Would have best suited my state of mind
And revealed my inner Monk.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
October 29th. - November 1st. - 19th. - 27th. 2014.
Recalling modelling for Justin Mortimer at the Slade in 1992.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

                            2.

Triptych. Three Related Poems.

                  
               (1) Untitled.

                   
                      Well
                I do love you
                       But

                
                (2) Manikin.


             Too perfect
             To be perfect

              Model with a made up mask
              Marble white
              Polished

              Reflecting the setting sun
              On the clear surface
              Of a curved mirror

              Dazzling
              The admiring crowd
              Of chique onlookers

              Too perfect
              To be plausible
              To be perfect

               Ice white
               Burnished

               Could you be
               The hum drum girl
               From County Clare
               I knew last summer

               Nails chewed
               Hair uncut
               Matted

               Face unwashed
               Crimped by spots
               And scratches


                (3) Futurity.


   When we kissed
   I thought we glimpsed the future,
   A smidgen less happy than I had hoped,
   But always with you.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
November 16th. - 17th. - 18th. 2014.

-----------------------------------------------

                        3.

               False Dawn.


               
                   Sunrise
         The moon now silver
             Just like my hair


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
November 20th. 2014.