Saturday, 23 April 2022

Trevor J Potter's Art: September Poem. (Completed Version).

Trevor J Potter's Art: September Poem. (Completed Version).:                            She loved me                                                  and in September She wore the curling leaves in...

Friday, 22 April 2022

Tulip.

 A tulip in bloom is shaped like many things,
Both sacred and profane - sunlit or moon dark -
A woman`s breast - her vulva - her loving kiss -
A gilded cup emptied of blood red wine -
Two hands cupped together to receive a gift -
A gift of chicks new born - a gift of life and death -
The whole of life expressed in one small bloom
That rarely lasts more than a single week.
All that we are expressed in this small flower -
A single blaze of joy, then all,  yes all is lost. 
A tulip in a vase is a poor sad thing,
But a garden full of tulips can make a dumb child sing.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter,
22nd. April 2022.

Thursday, 21 April 2022

Impressions of Two Easter Sundays a Year Apart.(Completed Poem).

2021.

Emptied communion cups dropped on the ground;
My garden tulips fade as the dawn breeze quickens,
Their petals opening out, about to fall,
Spilled like lost words, heavy with time and failed memories,
Dying yet nurturing a future still buried,
Next year in embryo.


2022.

Bulbs forcing pale shoots out into the light;
Communion cups transformed from green to bright gold,
New blossoms flourishing - a new era made manifest,
The air rich with the scents of wine and honey, the tang of
                                                                      baked Matzah; 
That which we thought dead now dazzles our senses.

Ancient prayers made true as we sing them this Easter,
The cries of an infant intermingling with them.
Old ways, long neglected, making new once more.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
21st. April 2022.
Written after studying the poem "Holy Communion" by George Herbert.

Saturday, 16 April 2022

Friday, 15 April 2022

Good Friday in a Time of War. (Completed Poem).

Good Friday is not good,
It is hopelessness,
Desolation,
All the cities that have ever burned
Still burning,
Every child that was ever slaughtered
Still feeling the thrust of the knife,
The heat of the bullet,
The raw edge of the rope.
Good Friday is every crime ever committed,
Every murder,
Every rape, 
Every act of genocidal war;
And still the rockets pour down molten rain.

And still the victims crouch beneath the earth. -
All this expressed in savage hammer blows
That forced the nails through the opened hands
Of the healer,
The charismatic Lord of Life.
He forgave all those he healed with love
Because he knew their thoughts, their hopes, their fears.
He knew that they would turn their backs on him
When he was stretched wide screaming on the cross,
Crucified because he spoke the truth,
Because he cured the blind -
The halt - the dumb - the deaf - the epileptic, -
Because he woke the dead;
And still the victims crouch in catacombs and bunkers.

Good Friday is not good,
It is a blasphemy against all things,
Against the child nestling in the womb,
Against the beauty of the universe,
Against every tiny deed of love,
Against every mother`s smile and kiss.
Eli, Eli lama sabachthani?
And still the rockets pour down molten rain.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
15th. - 16th. April 2022.

Sunday, 10 April 2022

Palm Sunday - Self Isolation.

A box of tulips delivered to my door.
I cut the string then lift the lid;
A cold sunrise has filled the house with light.

I`ve placed a palm cross by the kitchen window;
Easter is now just a week away.
This gift was not expected, and every bloom is red.

I drop the stems into a crystal vase.
The house so quiet I hear the shadows move,
Or is that just my breath?- I rarely note my breathing.

Resolved to live alone I have become self conscious,
Every hour seems packed with mystery,
A miracle no longer an exception.

These tulips are five wounds, I sought a different gift,
Five Easter lilies ice bright in the sun.


Trevor John Karsavin Potter,
10th. April `2022.

Monday, 4 April 2022

Trevor J Potter's Art: Starlight Love Poem.

Trevor J Potter's Art: Starlight Love Poem.: This love I offer is not an empty token. Cuddle up close against the winter night. We are the same material as the stars & should no...

Winter Night.