Let me go Let me run in the early dew To brush against the laurel’s leaves Tread the cool earth’s cushion And linger in the dampness of the silent wood.
Before the cooing of the collared bird, The bite of the new day’s busy-ness, Its threats and promises, Breaks into the stillness of my morning world And ruptures this mood of mystery Of thrill and almost menace, Leaving me to face another day of reality One more acceptance of the wrenching truth.
Disused since Golgotha Defaced by ignorance Scorned by the whole-some Earning only derisive mirth Unwelcome and Unwelcoming This un-entrancing entrance Inaccessible access Faded to a depressing Off-putting welcome As resonant of hope as Hades’ Tunnel of Love
Once undoubtedly New and hopeful Promising Portal Someone’s pride become The neighbourhood’s malediction And the future’s disillusionment.
An unknown nocturne plays without provenance Realised in a Narnian dream to be read by hearsay its undisclosed lineage a mystery
White-garbed musician guitar akimbo Draped casually at ease on a cubist chair.
In melancholy mood his arpeggioed chords gently weeping to me the silent onlooker the uninformed audience for his deft and fretful Brazilian saudade
Braque-ish cubes predominate Harlequin or Clown checkered grand master or imminent coulrophobia
And why white Why the mask noir the dense Intense context Where only silent space listens his rasguedo sonorous in turn soothing and somnolent then fraught with flamenco tension or on fire with gypsy fervour
And the shadow figure skulking hurrying into the background A sinister threat escaping from a mission accomplished or fleeing bearing yet more grief to some renegade de-briefing
The message missed Significance lost Theories advanced Debated Discarded
The clues must be there too dense to unravel I need a history
I think too I see hidden faces The game players’ cabal linked by name or by my imagination
In my desire to crack the code I stumble and abort my search Defeated for now But not for ever
I would be delighted if any viewer of the above picture could provide clues to the artist and or to his/her subject. I have had no direct access to the original painting (print?) but an intriguing story was woven around both the painting’s subject and its acquisition by the friend who allowed me to photograph the above which is merely a copy of the original.