Facsimiles I

How to replicate
How to create
Stillness, silence
Peace
Engagement

Find one window
Note all, yes everything
Which you see there

Come, and go
At various
Times of day
In all kinds
Of weather

Let your mood be
As it is
As it wishes
As it finds itself

Zoom in
Zoom out
Describe the leaves
Of leaves
As being what you see

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Sex

Black; A touching you didn’t know existed (John Berger)

Of course John, black and sex
How could you not think of them together
Why, didn’t we all get married in black suits
And go to raucous society do’s in black ties
Don’t modern girls crave a little black dress

And just how far is it John
From parading our wanton sexuality
(In whatever black robes we can muster)
To where black suggests something stronger
About desire, passion, negligence, indulgence

Is that why she screamed at you John
Had the black taken you a little too far

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Elsewhere

Black / Darkness (John Christie)

The desire to be elsewhere is with us all John
It is lurking, ready to pounce, at anytime
Not just in the darkness

But of course, in the dark of night
Especially those moments on the cusp of sleep
When we can be caught at our most fragile

A time we can hold tight to the ball of fear
Which cries out for us to be elsewhere
Yet, at our most vulnerable, we fall asleep

And sleep is continually thanking us
For being a safe haven, for being here
Not in that nonsense place called elsewhere

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Jazz

The Blues: I am yours, you are mine (John Berger)

You surprise me John
So soon after saying you won’t use colour
You talk of the blue of blueberries being sexy

Now I must tell you, that Genevieve and myself
Stood naked in a stream, eating blueberries
And so I concur with you conclusion

That the blue of blueberries is indeed sexy
And also blue as a prize, for on that day John
After paddling, we shared the bigger prize

I don’t know the piece by Schubert
But I do agree, that Parker, of all the jazzmen
Had the colour blue engraved upon his soul

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One

Yves Klein Blue (John Christie)

Your book gave me Klein, also, thankfully
It gave me Matisse, and Yuri Gagarin

Won’t each layer of colour
On a flat surface
Change both itself
And the colour beneath it

In the same way that geologists
Take core samples of rocks
Could we not have a sideways look
At the many layers of blue

And does not each layer
Allow the artist
Another hour of contemplation
To bring his blue to the surface

Then John, to light that plane
Which will now neither be
Flat nor true, yet we are able to imagine
A whole lifetime in that one colour

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