A blazing sickle of the sun cut a toothless smile unseen by rushing city men caught up in the Mile. Thick cloud across the southern skies obscured the time majestic when darkness peaked – nine thirty-five: a normal day of business. 21/3/15 — This poem was inspired by the solar eclipse mania of last weekContinue reading “Overcast Eclipse”
“An Artist Works” was inspired by Constable’s cloud study dated ‘evening, 31 August 1822’. The English painter produced these close observations of the skies during 1821 and 1822 in Hampstead, North London where he spent his summers in the early 1820s.
On the fringe of grey bring some blue set above white and petal disks. Green is a good addition. Lay down black as tarmac. Square everything in Your life and love and happiness A tree! No less Grey like silver grey like gold grey like suits tales of old grey like hats grey, like pointerContinue reading “Two Poems about Grey”
Rain slaps against the windowpane. Wee! Wee! It jests and jeers. Look at our ease of water-dash and drip and fall while you – Haha! – neith’ eight nor sixteen lines have wrought on that page. It’s all for nought, despite your ink-filled fountain pen. Yes, I see the sky makes way its blue forContinue reading “Conscripted”
Evening, 31 August 1822 Above, the ungraspable in grey or white or sometimes black, I read now is wrought of Forms, this water overhead. What Science seeks to calibrate quickens my palette, hand and knife and revives my boyish eyes to see pictures in the sky. — The series of cloud studies painted by JohnContinue reading “An Artist Works”