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


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Mirror, mirror

Blowing in the breeze is the dandelion fluff,

Trickling over pebbles and mud is the

Shiny, distorted sheep’s backside and an

Essential component of all Earth’s life.

In a frightful plume of smoke one sees the

Shape of a hungry hurricane and a form of

Angry industrial waste spreading into our

Lungs, infiltrating through bodily defences.

In screams and tears, and violent offence a

Lover abuses sacred trust, blurring communication;

A child asserts its right to be; denied pain

Gains sweet release, after emotional retardation.

Bluebell, evergreen or cool shady woods lie

Fallow on the land: a holiday resort, a paper

Pulp factory, a private residence, prime

Farming land, a gift to an unused Trust?

A mangy puppy crosses the urban street,

Big-eyed, decrepit in its prime: what do you feel?

Sorry for your self; the protective love denied to

Offspring, spouse, self; society’s baleful crime?

What to you see in tumbling waters; a bird’s

Flight; the eyes of those you love, and those you

Do not know; an expression, reaction, tone;

The past, the present, a dreamed of future?

I see the sun’s luminous light through young leaves

And its reflection off tender buds through the

Gauze of a net curtain; I smell the scent of sticky

Sap off a shrub I haven’t seen in years;

I feel a jolt of recognition, and piercing insight

Into another; I hear a rumbling engine and a

Melody, though no tune plays; and I see

Whole different worlds in my mind’s eye:

Magnetic flux, atomic structure, notes of music

Floating in the air; and imagination’s two-pronged

Gift creates a myriad more; and I doubt and I doubt;

And if I’m talked to I’ll listen.

(13th April ‘95)

I focus on the hour glass and the mirror on the wall

I rest my eyes on infinite sky and cascading clouds

And the fleeting expressions of a stranger’s face

I attempt to penetrate the depths of every soul

Searching eagerly for my inner reflection

My moods like the formations in the expanse above

Despairing, I turn within, and uproot my core

Desperate for stimulation and identification

Denying and hoping, creating chaos and order

Boredom encroaches, aggression threatens

Anarchy is on the horizon, and I smile

What can one do but laugh and watch the storm fade?

Tears falling slowly down a stony face, mother’s face

Pain looming, hunching father’s weary heart

Freedom beckons seductively from reality’s fringes

And hides in the darkness isolated within the core

I watch life’s comic stage but cannot laugh

For theirs is not my sorrow, nor my humour

As I look on a haze clears from my perception

And I see myself in the sadness and the joy

And I see myself apart from them in a world alone

And I think I’ve lived through this before

Instead I identify with the wolf’s lone call

And a single dancing sunbeam giggling on the shore

Let me in, let me in, I’m knocking on the door

But however warm the fireplace or cosy the chair

I’ll not stay long, I can’t stay long, without, it beckons

Idly calls, and there are winds to tame, and spells to cast

And fearsome tirades to ride and I’ll miss the rain

And the sunrise; the rocky paths, the bedecked hollow

The lonesomeness and hansomeness; the euphoric

Discovery, the bedraggled uncovery; my life

Humanity, glorious individuality; and the

Beautifully, heart-rendingly, starry sky

Come with me, come with me, learn me and know me

And if I love you, I will be back

(12th April ‘95)