The moon petals the sea. Rose petals the sea. Stone sea. Stone petals. Rose petals of stone. Stone rising before me. Sea moves. How moves...
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You know how it is when something catches your eye and you just have to post on it... well, it was this headline in Monday's Independent...
Thursday, 5 April 2012
Jake - art student extraordinary
A gifted draughtsman - when he drew,
though Primitive with paint.
Irreconcilable, these two:
a mystery to me.
A lack of confidence, perhaps - the lack
that drove him scavaging the bins
for anyone's rejected work.
Before his time, perhaps: recycling them!
I heard it said some twenty artists
gave him his degree,
but I am sure he would have scored
more highly on his own.
He played trombone with a small group,
his first love being jazz - but was prepared
to slum it on the odd occasion
with blasts of modern pop.
He wrote the most exquisite poems,
delicate and subtle, full of quiet joy -
and published Dirtier than God is -
privately - a porno magazine.
He gave amazing readings:
poems, mostly on his art -
and always took the art along
and flogged it at the door.
(Even when it was not his to sell.)