Thursday, 11 August 2022
Portrait of a Dancer.
Adoration of the goddess
The white mysterious moon
Ecstatic dancer
Transformed into shards
Smashed shards of colour
Frenetic movement
Even the fiercest love
Could not subdue such ecstasy
Trevor J Potter's Art: Heatwave. (Longer completed version).
Trevor J Potter's Art: Heatwave. (Longer completed version).: Even this mid summer It seems I am not alone Hoping for a fresh fall of snow. Energy prices are due to soar Before November Shuts down dayli...
Wednesday, 10 August 2022
New Beginnings.
Exploring a new level of consciousness
Visual Images become the only language
that makes sense
As my world becomes new born again
before my dazzled eyes.
Tuesday, 9 August 2022
Dreaming My Life. Poem with Pictures. (Revised).
Dreaming my life,
Reality just those facts that I imagine.
Even when I slept rough at nights
One misty London winter,
(February 64),
Just another boyhood dream,
perhaps?
A drab romantic venture,
A page in my CV to be pored over.
Being an idealist
Reality is always other peoples problem,
Or so my parents told me
To sort my thinking out,
to put me right.
In other words, they thought dreaming plain
wrong,
Thoroughly Out of kilter.
But I always thought them wrong, to be quite
honest;
They lived their lives on the other side of the mirror
Where truth was back to front to what I witnessed.
Being a born idealist
I brusquely walked away to live my dream,
Yet artists are fierce realists in life
However strange their pictures may first seem.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
9th. - 10th. August 2022.
Monday, 8 August 2022
Student Without Borders.
Even in the wilderness
You seem chic,
If I took you to Manhattan
You could demolish
The old Empire State
With a single
Laugh,
Here in Hampstead
You are truly state of the art
however,
An image that needs no explanation.
Trevor John Karsavin Potter.
Sunday, 7 August 2022
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Colonel was a fawn Great Dane, docile but loud of bark. He was also as tall as a man when standing on his hind legs. He lived at the Duke of...
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I need two strong hands to shape a poem, Shifting boulders of sound from rock face To flat ground. I need two stron...
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Late summer morning glory, Sunlight saturating moist northern air So that I seem to peer through a billion tiny mirrors As I look towards yo...