Sunday, 11 October 2020

Tuesday, 6 October 2020

Two Poems. (1) Missing Ivy.(2) Pathetique Sonata.(Revised).

          Missing Ivy.


Walking alone in the mountains
I think of you - so far away
Watching the cars go by.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
October 6th. 2020.

               2.

Pathetique Sonata.


Like Chinese poetry
This music confines sorrow
To a few black lines

Lines drawn on fine paper
By a wavering hand 


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
October 8th. 2020.

Monday, 5 October 2020

Friday, 2 October 2020

Soft October Rain.

 The rain dances on my skin.

Lute strings imitate drum riffs
Tapped out on pavement and Birch trees.
Lute strings dissolving in tears
When they touch the earth.

The world is an intimate orchestra
To which we all belong,
To which we all add momentary key
                                             changes.

Lute strings - cool and delicate - dance
                                 against my skin,
Muted strings tap tapping out soft rhythms
Before the sun strikes through
                         the timpani of clouds.

There is a gentle solace in the fall of rain,
In the soft coolness of moisture on skin.
When the sun strikes through
                        harmony breaks apart.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
October 2nd. - 3rd. 2020.

Tuesday, 29 September 2020

(1) A Moment of Understanding. (2) Hydrangea.

A Moment of Understanding.


 The Buddha Nature within me
and
The Christ nature within me
Are the Holy Spirit
Are One and the Same.
Together they teach me Compassion.
Together they lead to Nirvana.
This has been so since my birth.
This has been so since before then.

Buddha within me -
Buddha before me -
Buddha beneath me -
Buddha above me.

Saint Patrick on the wind swept mountain
Saw what Bodhidharma knew.

Christ within me -
Christ before me -
Christ beneath me -
Christ above me.

Only the words are distinct - are different.
Only the words are a problem.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
29th. September 2020.


         Hydrangea.

These flowers are no longer soft,
They have the texture of brown paper,
As rough to the skin as late October winds.


 Trevor John Karsavin Potter. 
29th. September 2020.

Glass Bubble.