Red Returns More Powerful than Blue.

 

Trevor J Potter's Art: First Hint of Autumn.(New Revision).

Trevor J Potter's Art: First Hint of Autumn.(New Revision).: Autumn. Old folk remember their schooldays, Chasing a ball in the street, Kicking their shoes through the leaves. Like bulbs pressed down in...

First Hint of Autumn, Spring Recalled. (Completed Poem).

Autumn.

Old folk remember their schooldays,

Chasing a ball in the street,

Kicking their shoes through the leaves.

Like bulbs pressed down into leaf mould

It was time to mature and flourish,

A chill sun burnishing cheek bones,

A cold wind blurring the view.

Cool but savvy, Spring sloped in when the light changed,

Bringing warmth to our streets, now swept clean,

Not by brooms, but by snow-melt and showers

Transforming pavements into streams,

Sometimes as deep as our ankles;

Sometimes barely damping our heels.

Autumn.

Old folk remember their schooldays

With a symbolic shrug of the shoulders;

Sometimes with nostalgic lies. -

Next February Snowdrops will tear through the frost lace,

But before then a whole world dies.

Trevor John Karsavin Potter. 

September 26th.- 27th. - 28th. 2022.

October 6th. 2022.

Two Abstracts.

 

Trevor J Potter's Art: (1).My Life in Two Pictures, (2) Poem of The Dispo...

Trevor J Potter's Art: (1).My Life in Two Pictures, (2) Poem of The Dispo...: How my life felt to me aged 10 at the time of the Queen`s Coronation. How my life feels to me now at the time of her Funeral. Poem of The Di...

Trevor J Potter's Art: (1).My Life in Two Pictures, (2) Poem of A Terrifi...

Trevor J Potter's Art: (1).My Life in Two Pictures, (2) Poem of A Terrifi...: How my life felt to me aged 10 at the time of the Queen`s Coronation. How my life feels to me now at the time of her Funeral. Poem of A Terr...

(1).My Life in Three Pictures, (2) Poem of The Dispossessed.(Poem Now Revised).

How my life felt to me aged 10

How my life feels to me now.

Poem of The Dispossessed.

I reside where chaos and order collide

In an abstract city of concrete and steel, 

The alleyways littered with junk and glass.

I balance on a knife edge of joy and fear,

Balance on the hardened point of the knife

That can dissect a man,

Skin a shark. 

This is my life from hour to hour

Poised like an acrobat on a wire

Slung between two concrete spires.

The fields I romped in when a child

Too soon ploughed up to build this city.

Tonight I watch a coffin pass,

Driven in silence through wintry rain,

A plain wooden box filled with echoes

Of what a life could have been.

Echoes of days when Larks soared and sang.

Echoes of a trapped man screaming out loud.

Trevor John Karsavin Potter. September 14th. - 15th. 2022. October 23rd. 2022.