sketch pad

meine umwelt

avec moi, sans moi,

par moi


Ahh… and the tales I shall unfold

May blast comprehension if the truth be told

An ode to the masters, martyrs and whims

A satyr on life and sullied daydreams

(1996)

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faber est quisque fortunae suae

every man is architect of his own fortune

Spun from me a translucent thread

Left an ephemeral bubble

Right on turbulent shores

Spanning spinning orbiting


They heard, they came, they staked a claim,

Blew a hundred thousand bubbles

Out across the sea shores

To chant, "They will never meet"


He never said he'd come to me

Just blowing on the wind, he said

Just flowing in the gutter

Catch the whispers passing by


They heard, they came, they staked a claim,

Sent a hundred thousand whispers

Over mountain and dale

To chant, "They will never meet"


They heard, they came, they staked a claim,

Broke a hundred thousand mirrors

In every water hole

To chant, "They will never meet"


Gladdening in beginning


(26th Aug ‘14)

Children sleep in the summer sand

As the wind blows all away

And those who wished to play today

Will ask of their hearts no more


(‘92)

Brownian Love in Motion

Je comprend de tete a

bellum domesticum

strife among family members

They heard, they came, they staked a claim

A hundred thousand copies blast

Rude furnaces of mitey reign

A photo of the mews in shame


He rode the wave of our guile true

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Sand


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mite