Friday, 17 June 2016
Trevor J Potter's Art: October Poem.
Trevor J Potter's Art: October Poem.: When did I meet you first? Where did we first speak? In Germany or on St. Stephen`s Green? By the Liffey or by the Rhine? I just can`t r...
Thursday, 16 June 2016
Trevor J Potter's Art: (1) Jazz, a Fantasy in Theatreland. (2) Two Pensee...
Trevor J Potter's Art: (1) Jazz, a Fantasy in Theatreland. (2) Two Pensee...: 1 . Jazz, a Fantasy in Theatreland. The melancholy rat a tat of jazz Makes me feel peculiarly lazy, Subterrane...
Trevor J Potter's Art: Remembering that Einstein had Problems with Time. ...
Trevor J Potter's Art: Remembering that Einstein had Problems with Time. ...: I love the sound of my little clock Ticking quietly in the corner, An electronic heartbeat driving the world To a strict metallic rhythm...
Trevor J Potter's Art: (1) Semi Rural. (2) Dream Laden Spring. (New Versi...
Trevor J Potter's Art: (1) Semi Rural. (2) Dream Laden Spring. (New Versi...: 1. Semi Rural. Snuggled among the trees The houses Like beehives Waiting for the swarms...
Trevor J Potter's Art: (1) Semi Rural. (2) Dream Laden Spring. (New Versi...
Trevor J Potter's Art: (1) Semi Rural. (2) Dream Laden Spring. (New Versi...: 1. Semi Rural. Snuggled among the trees The houses Like beehives Waiting for the swarms...
Tuesday, 14 June 2016
Dream Laden Spring. (Completed).
The morning after we celebrated your birthday
the wind turned mild;
pale daffodils rocked like dreaming children
beside the quiet river;
skeletal trees ducked and weaved under white clouds
that drifted silent as swans.
Winter had shuffled off to an early sleep over
on the peaks of far away mountains.
And then, as was usual at this time of year,
intoxicating rumours awoke and quickly flourished
among old travellers crouched around the camp fire,
A cornucopia of wizened Fortune Tellers
who whispered madly into pots and pans.-
The phoenix was seen alive upon a Monday,
she zig zagged on fire through a galaxy of branches.
A unicorn, tamed by a young girl`s whisper,
pranced for an hour in the April snow.
A dog faced boy lay dead in a cot.
A wolf brought shame on a red cloaked virgin,
then gobbled all her cookies up on the spot.
A milch cow cited Homer to the vicar.
A horse gave birth to a brindled cat.
A chicken laid an egg packed with diamonds.
A cockerel baked the farmer in his coarse linen smock.-
Tall tales clutched to old hearts like rare silver
now that the cold times were almost gone.
But we two, we could not dream, not you and I,
We had known too much sorrow since late December
when the surgeon failed to save our unborn child,
and nearly killed you when he cut too deep.
We remained locked inside your grandad`s Vardo,
curled snug in a ball like new born kittens,
mute in our sorrow, afraid of our grief, but not wanting to die,
A cockerel baked the farmer in his coarse linen smock.-
Tall tales clutched to old hearts like rare silver
now that the cold times were almost gone.
But we two, we could not dream, not you and I,
We had known too much sorrow since late December
when the surgeon failed to save our unborn child,
and nearly killed you when he cut too deep.
We remained locked inside your grandad`s Vardo,
curled snug in a ball like new born kittens,
mute in our sorrow, afraid of our grief, but not wanting to die,
stone deaf and blind to the change in the weather.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
First sketched March 10th. 2011.
Revised September 5th. - 6th. - 9th. - October 21st. 2013.
Completely rewritten June 15th. - August 27th. 2016.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
First sketched March 10th. 2011.
Revised September 5th. - 6th. - 9th. - October 21st. 2013.
Completely rewritten June 15th. - August 27th. 2016.
October 17th. 2020.
The many European influences on this poem are very clear, especially the Brothers Grimm; and the Welsh Gypsies referred to in this poem, originated in Rajasthan 1000 years ago. Britain owes a huge amount of it`s culture to the rest of the world. This has never been an island isolated from the Eurasian continent, but has always been a part of the Eurasian mainstream. We are a very European people.
The many European influences on this poem are very clear, especially the Brothers Grimm; and the Welsh Gypsies referred to in this poem, originated in Rajasthan 1000 years ago. Britain owes a huge amount of it`s culture to the rest of the world. This has never been an island isolated from the Eurasian continent, but has always been a part of the Eurasian mainstream. We are a very European people.
Thursday, 9 June 2016
(1) Jazz, a Fantasy in Theatreland. (2) Two Pensees.
1.
Jazz, a Fantasy in Theatreland.
The melancholy rat a tat of jazz
Makes me feel peculiarly lazy,
Subterraneum counter culture icky,
Down town street kid crazy,
Back room clubhouse hazy,
Black coffee with my sweetheart in the sleepless half light of a footloose
Soho dawn sicky,
& dead dead dead to the tick a tick a tick a of the mean time monitoring
clock
In the universal office schlock / prison block
Of the everyday work a day world.
& jazz jazz jazz
is like a grey damp cloth swabbed over my sleep creased work wearied
eyelids
To keep me awake
But not fully compos mentis
In a strange half light of unfocused slick stick silhouettes
Dancing dancing dancing
Without rhyme or repeatable rhythm
On a flat white tattered screen.
Thus I sit in this Bankside coffee house
As patient as a monk at Compline
But waiting for God knows what.
Perhaps that sylvan winged woman at the cashpoint opposite
Will slash open the white tattered curtain
With a smile of iridescent love,
A love as yet unhinted, unspoken;
Then, with the speed of a pedigree dove, fly in through the cafe window
To airlift me to her stage right paradise.
Or shall I simply get up from the bland coffee table
And lurch blear eyed into the sunshine
Before that guy playing chess in the corner
Throws his killer queen at the radio
To cut the music dead?
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
June 7th. - 8th. - 9th. 2016.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
2.
Two Pensees.
Porcelain Cup.
This porcelain cup
Is more than a thousand years old
Yet entirely new to me,
Newer than your soft white palm
That now so gently holds it.
*
The White Coat.
My little white coat
That I threw across your bare shoulders
Has become a neat cocoon,
Lightweight, detached and portable,
Your little house of threads.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
June 4th. 2016.
Jazz, a Fantasy in Theatreland.
The melancholy rat a tat of jazz
Makes me feel peculiarly lazy,
Subterraneum counter culture icky,
Down town street kid crazy,
Back room clubhouse hazy,
Black coffee with my sweetheart in the sleepless half light of a footloose
Soho dawn sicky,
& dead dead dead to the tick a tick a tick a of the mean time monitoring
clock
In the universal office schlock / prison block
Of the everyday work a day world.
& jazz jazz jazz
is like a grey damp cloth swabbed over my sleep creased work wearied
eyelids
To keep me awake
But not fully compos mentis
In a strange half light of unfocused slick stick silhouettes
Dancing dancing dancing
Without rhyme or repeatable rhythm
On a flat white tattered screen.
Thus I sit in this Bankside coffee house
As patient as a monk at Compline
But waiting for God knows what.
Perhaps that sylvan winged woman at the cashpoint opposite
Will slash open the white tattered curtain
With a smile of iridescent love,
A love as yet unhinted, unspoken;
Then, with the speed of a pedigree dove, fly in through the cafe window
To airlift me to her stage right paradise.
Or shall I simply get up from the bland coffee table
And lurch blear eyed into the sunshine
Before that guy playing chess in the corner
Throws his killer queen at the radio
To cut the music dead?
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
June 7th. - 8th. - 9th. 2016.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
2.
Two Pensees.
Porcelain Cup.
This porcelain cup
Is more than a thousand years old
Yet entirely new to me,
Newer than your soft white palm
That now so gently holds it.
*
The White Coat.
My little white coat
That I threw across your bare shoulders
Has become a neat cocoon,
Lightweight, detached and portable,
Your little house of threads.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
June 4th. 2016.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
