Way down in the warm blue crevasse
of night its fishing commences
Sydney Graham reach me a hand.
That’s me in the painting.
/ My face smooth and brow clear,
/ for I do not worry over
/ what I cannot see.
Except for Iain, who looks both found & lost, / already haunted by his own baffled ghost…
In his final years, illness attended / the artist. His friends brought him flowers / and, in modest works, when…
(from the photo with the same title by Don McCullin)
/ A pipe fitter’s mate at the gates of dawn
/ Is wrenched from…
Ana Dali, Salvador’s sister,
/ shown here in an ominous frock,
/ eloped with an amorous easel
/ to the melting apartment block.
/ She waves through a…
Tarred roads, metal cattle-grids and wheel tracks mesh
/ so tightly no land can escape. Tractor ruts
/ cut deep into the grass to…
‘Do it now, say it now, don’t be afraid.’
/ Wilhelmina Barnes-Graham
/ Your house with its lovely
/ light studio overlooking the…
It is a union that suggests the essential mystery of the world.
/ Art for me is not an end in…
Whenever neon trickles down
/ to meet a city drain,
/ I think of you on some wet roof,
/ a cobbled son of men –…