Thursday, 18 February 2016

(1) The Parting.(Revised) (2).Commonplace Tranquility.(Revised).

                     1.

           The Parting.


You departed at lunch time,
Hat not at the usual angle,
Shoulder bag swinging like a sail.

Loneliness does not suit me,
I sit as still as a stone.

A bird with a broken wing
Could not be more frightened,
More uneasy.
Every sound in the near locality,
The Victorian streets and alleyways,
Plainly hostile.

I go indoors to make a cup of coffee.
The gentle bubbling of the percolator
Brings some peace of mind;
But your abrupt departure is hurting me like hell.

Saying goodbye never has been easy,
Even if just a weekend or one day
Pass before the key turns in the lock,
Or the dog goes hyper hearing the clang of the bell.

Meanwhile I think of phoning long term friends,
But their disembodied voices
Reverberating in the earpiece
Accentuate the pain,
Makes distance a reality.
Love, distance really matters.

I turn off the radio
Raw toned Bruckner hurts my troubled mind.

I sit and dream the scent of your long hair
Lingering on the pillow,
Warming our cold bed.
Your northern vowels, so soft and ever youthful,
Heard in every room.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
15th. - 16th. February 2016.
December 3rd. 2016.

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                      2.

  Commonplace Tranquility.


  Leonardo can go skulk in dusty corners,
Cervantes can hang his lance up in the hall,
  I have turned my back on the European Renaissance,
And now find beauty in common        everyday things.


A muslin curtain slung across a window,
A knife,
              a spoon,
                            a paper cup,
                                                 a plain white bowl,
                                              a sturdy stoneware jug,
A makeshift vase loosely filled with flowers,
A well scrubbed kitchen table.


    Observing simple objects, simple moments
    cools perspectives            pacifies my mind,
                                                 Hints at pure Satori;

                                                                       
                 Cherry blossom in a Kyoto garden;
      more precious to me than my rarest books.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
February 5th. - 18th. 2016.
December 3rd. 2016.

This poem represents the very heart of my every day philosophy.


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