Tuesday 16 December 2014

(1) The face of the Virgin. (2) Ghosting. (A Song). (3) A Shared Nightmare.

                      1.

      The face of the Virgin


Your face - pale in the church window -
Pensive among gold angel wings
Spread to shield the derelict stable
From the stiletto thrust of desert winds
Cutting through the cold back streets
Of war stormed Bethlehem.

Your face - neither Arab nor Israeli -
But North Italian - if my guide book is right -
Portrays to perfection the love of Mother Mary
For her boy child - born that violent night -
The shrieks of racists echoing through the city -
The flames of rockets arcing through the sky.

Your face - pale with love that defeats ideology
Shimmering among shadows in a patch of light.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
16th. December 2014.
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                        2.

         Ghosting. (A Song).


over our footsteps
criss-crossing the snow
your shadow drifting
obliterates mine -
black upon blackness -
we fold over the whiteness
a singular darkness

i loved you once -
but your love was unkind -
and now you have left me
dumb and blind
to wander at nights beside you

your hand on my shoulder
you whispering softly -
I turn to hear you
against the storm -
but your voice cannot magic
a path through the white wind
that shatters all calmness

i loved you once -
but your love was unkind -
and now you have left me
dumb and blind
to wander at nights beside you

over our footprints
criss-crossing the snow
your shadow drifting
with infinite deftness
interacts with mine -
two shadows ghosting
in the raw white wind

i loved you once -
but your love was unkind -
and now you have left me
dumb and blind
to wander at nights beside you


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
First Sketched November 5th. 1978.
Revised November 3rd. 2010 - December 17th. - 18th. 2014.
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                           3.

         A Shared Nightmare.
      


Through a glass darkly I dream you
Dream hopes I must forsake

Flecked by sombre shadows
The mist dissolves the lake

I fear that we are drowning
and yet we dare not wake

I reach out to find the mirror
To touch but not to take

Your voice cries out forlornly
Cries out across the lake

Our hands meet in the darkness
A cold dawn starts to break

Your fingers melt like icicles
Melt back into the lake

Through a glass darkly I dream you


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
December 7th. 1980. - March 14th. 2014.
August 2nd. 2014. - December 18th. 2014.

1 comment:

  1. Especially liked The face of the Virgin - beautifully controlled/crafted!

    ReplyDelete