Preference

constructive criticism always welcome

I heard that he turned mad,
Not romantically mad, they said.
Tragically mad, I suppose.
Locked in the spasm of never opened windows,
And lunatic thoughts splashed on the walls
From the shot head,
Rotting in home-made equatorial chaos
As if the green over the grave
Saves the dead.
It does not.
Apathy hides in silent gramophones,
And his germaniums
That outlive him
And bloom.
If madness is safe
Locked in a room,
And could only be seen
By a lunatic Karlsson
On a half-broken roof,
What made him

stand

on the brim of

what was built

by us?
Tragically mad, they mean.
I guess
Because he saw the doom
We bring,
And took a gun
To his head
To silence his
Conscience.
Let idealists rest
In peace.
For us remains
The last word
…we have turned
 worse
Than the dead…
and offer

less....

Germaniums

bloom

over ideals' grave

 

Reviews

[Travis Gibson (poetic h..]

Well done! A dark but engaging piece!

[Ken Simm.]

Strangely Geraniums always smell of death to me. This has the openings or the dark centerings of an expressionist painting. A darkness coming out of light. A sort of reverse chirascuro. Strong.

[Marri]

I always feel honoured when you stretch my words on a canvas and find colour within their contours. Painting is not only inspiration but also very painful, very personal and for this very important experience for me. You reading that painting honours what I do. I thank you for that!

[Circe]

that's very interesting.... the functioning of brain is so incredibly complex... wherever something is wired differently, we call it madness... but what is real madness... is it the self subscribed conformity of this civilisation.. is it conscionable the things we expect people to be, to do... I like the vagueness in the storytelling... germaniums an especially beautiful touch.. I'm not sure about the capacity for people to accept and be challenged by change, or the very force of idealism, but this is one idealists' voice that won't go unheard.

[Marri]

I have a friend who does painting therapy in a madhouse and he often exlaims how people there show more empathy and understanding than those of us who are 'normal'. Back at home I have seen drug dealers punishing those who owe them by cutting ears off, I have seen beheaded and skinned dogs, burning alive cats, as if it is not enough to be cruel to each other, but we perversely pick the weakest. Cruelty has no limits and this is the only thing I would label madness. And always the inevitable question: does all the beauty that we brought with ourselves and the piece of magic in music, painting, poetry, love compensate the destruction and the pain we have caused. And I know that it's a strategically wrong move to weigh this, because I lose before I have started, but sometimes even suicidal moves like this make more sense...thank you, your brilliance on paper surely restores the harmony between beauty-taken-beauty-given.

[Circe]

wow yes... I agree with you there, the madness that makes no sense, those terrible deeds, the suffering we inflict on each other, the natural world.. I have no judgments on the act of suicide it is a choice, sometimes it is the only way when all other ways are exhausted, it is true... so many avenues of life and death.. so much unnecessary pain, you would think after tens of thousands of years we would have to wise up..

[Marri]

First lesson in painting I got was 'next to the darkest spot, comes the lightest'...so, I guess, being that small particale on a canvas, is just another choice of colour...the only wising up we have done is to harden, in our beliefs and our illusions, so it's almost impossible to wash them off...

[Circe]

we do harden, and that is the effect of life experience.. it helps us to survive.. and it also shows us the importance of building actions that nurture the future... I give myself this simple purpose... now I see this writing is also projecting so many philosophical viewpoints!