Let's not assume
there are 30 or 31 days
in a month--29th Feb 2020
ends the month--with exceptional grace!

I put myself away some days
and was richly endowed by grace

Dear Albert
What's the BLACK HOLE?
Einstein curtly replied:
something you couldn't hold!

Dear Albert, I was looking for the music you played but couldn't but those who played chamber-music with you did say you were relatively good.



Your eyes always gazed faraway

into some strange foreign terrain

whether it were night or day

your imagination knew no restraint



and me a poor mortal have nothing to say

not a word would any advantage gain

E-MC squared for a millenium would still stay

your theory would suffer not the slightest of stain.

from
your fellow-violinist from Melb,  but I guess you did better!

Dear brain cells of mine
I'll teach you how to dance
you live in silence and never have known sunshine
come out from your darkness--this is your chance-

among your siblings you intertwine
you must be weary of every glance
facing one another--- it would do you fine
if you would accept my invitation to the dance.

You are immortalised by these two arguments:

'The world is all that is the case.

The world is the totality of facts, not of things'

But philosophy is beyond me, dear Ludwig
that is a fact.  Another fact is I don't have wit.
One more fact, bear with me--I am bald but wear no wig.

When death you paralyse
it closes its eyes in demise

Tender starlight upon stream and fountain
           strains of the flute drift in the cold night-air
           love and longing waits for no season
           under the willow-tree I weep, not knowing you are where

But the new is temporal
will become old before its time
gone is its once- rich sap
a too-heavily laden tree
upsets its roots and stunts
its growth and with time, dies
sadly dies.  The storms
will show no mercy
and finally, the grandeur
of its past will drop- tearfully
on dusty ground--

how civilised
is civilisation?
that which is manmade
will be destroyed
by its maker
and looking back
will be too late--

we'll search
the heart of man
and find therein only
its dark and sinister content--

when love, beauty
honour, duty
compassion
is* buried dead
where shall be found
our human consolation?

Yesterday I knew
today I'm hardly sure
when tomorrow is due
I hope to be knowing--poor

No, not for me
I've no declaration to make
that would be vanity
for none would speak
against oneself. Let this be
only at my life's end
those who knew me
would have their final say
but by then I wouldn't be around
to hear or witness the light of day.

Beyond this
   I have nothing to declare
   only:  an honest person
   always plays fair

What have I  to declare?
Nothing at all, either here or there

Never ask anyone
why the person is silent
it's over-stepping the line-
unwarranted and unpleasant

Long past midnight
    but I could not sleep
     love has taken flight
     promises she didn't keep--

    my cello I'll hold close tight
    let every note my sorrow echo
    poets who praise love hardly know the blight
    nor the forlorn's tears that so deeply flow

FOR MB

A thought is a picture
as concrete as an object
crystallised in the artist’s mind
each a mini life-aspect

a meaning that comes to light
a mystery set in track
a painting is a journey completed
bearing he artist’s glorious flying-flag

My dear Friend

This has been the greatest test of your patience
but you will overcome as you have inner strength and endurance.

                     DEDICATION  21st Feb 2019
                
                To live is to endure
                but there's joy in-between
                we are made tears to shed
                but will emerge pure and clean-

                let's regard then in all seasons
                life is at the end still a glorious hymn
                we will sing with heartfelt thanks
                with love and compassion as the theme  

Yours in silent worship of life
Peter

The ecstasy drew me

to a world beyond space and time

what glory and what beauty

nothing could be more sublime-



I've been there---eternity-

and back to earth I've come

words can't portray the mystery

ah, music, the richest and purest balm!

My heart dwells in beauty
in her ***** I find my perfect rest
I'll serve her in unfailing duty
I know I'll be abundantly blest-

let my brush be my ardent voice
let every colour in majesty  assume
our coming-together is all our joys
every painting should smell as perfume

Time shall re-echo
       your music's magnificence
       each note in its sublime flow
       speaks but of joy and radiance--

       amidst life's very chagrin and sorrow
        all that is suffers from impermanence
        those who the steps of beauty follow
        their hearts will vow to unfailing remembrance

The bird that is free
sings the sweetest tune
every note in its gaiety
the year round, not just in June.

What do I seek?
my heart knows not
how could I speak?

FOR MD
    
     Cast into the unknown of time
     staying with the moment I begin to see
     the hidden is the most sublime
     the ultimate grandeur and beauty-

     into the depth of my being I delve
     to draw out in art my inner mystery
     I am defined by what's inside myself
     I create to find meaning which sets me free

I've slept too long

      no more the slumber

      life's next song

      is springing to my ear--



      beauty will never do any wrong

      as bouquets of wonder she sets to gather

      with love and rejoicing in music's throng

      life doesn't die--it will live forever

..where untold personal pain
  is translated into compassion
  the world is in such glorious gain-
  this--  the loftiest human expression

The world is held in silence

              as sublime notes fill the air

             such resounding resonance

             only the rarest can compare-



             the heart of love wells in abundance

             such divine music vanquishes every human care

             centuries to come will still keep in remembrance

             where beauty dwells, there's no room for despair

              

Sunday, 3.15 pm, Melb time.  copyright

Deep down the heart's labyrinth
    the unnameable vacuum
    yet there the tidal waves swarm
    shadows they darkly assume-

    here's shut-off land-- not an inner sanctum-
    would love and hope ever re-bloom?
    all past dreams have been swept away
    for rest and peace there's no longer room.

But we walk away

when life still  holds more-

indeed every day-

for us to explore

A defeat
should not sweep us
from our feet
nor stop our heart-beat

No other ever
could defeat me
I am my own destroyer
my worst enemy.

No, oh no, it's not defeat
you are still standing on your two feet.

Yesterday I knew little
today even less
don't ask me about tomorrow
I could hardly guess!

Just regard me
as baroque
music for oldies
the young prefer 'rock'--

just think of me
in cello--time
violin is youth
viola is middle age--sublime

is the breath
of cello's mellowness
past all desire and longing
tinged with some elderly sadness

no more Johann Strauss Sr or Jr
waltzes, tangos, salsas in any dance-hall
give me the Requiem of Verdi or Mozart
it will tell my life-story all-in-all.

I'm old
admittedly
you can say
(if you may)
I ain't young
anymore
but meet me
at the sport-field
the town-hall
the dance-floor
the swimming pool
the walking-trail-
what you the young do
I can too

so
this you
should know-
my age
doesn't count
at all!
and life
I continue
to celebrate!

I should not define love
It should define me
Lest in my inadequacy
I blemish its very beauty.

It's not what I say or declare
but for others to judge--am I
good or bad, or neither
then what?  the why of things in life
is too often shrouded
in deep mystery and is monstrously vexatious
the heart has reasons of its own and is unimpressed by logic-
the question of what is or should be is perennially contentious

The 'me' is not what a person is
but a pigment of what's outside
I struggle all my life to be free
from society's insidious bite-

the battle has been won at last
there's peace and contentment on my side
the authentic and intrinsic shall never be compromised
only then in truth and grace shall the self abide.

An artist has first

to be a dreamer

if he's too much in the sun

masterpieces he cannot deliver

A poem
should be
like a photo
of beauty

a portrait
of myriad wonders
light and shade
of charming colours

a voice
from the heart
to abide in memory
never to part

a song
that shall ring
through endless time
loved by every being.

Art is beyond mind

nameless feelings interfuse

mysterious music

The good can sometimes do bad

the bad can sometimes do good

definitions are vague

nothing is absolute

How do we define
the good and noble?
by our own selves
or by other people?

Words, oh words
how they twist the truth!
Who, tell me please, who would
ever say they aren't good?

Delete the 'I'
life will treat
you right:
in this wipe-out
you'll grow
and expand
you'll understand
you'll thrive
you'll see things
in a fresh light
you'll acquire
a new mind
and the world
will always be
on your side

First
the 'I'
is the word
I must delete

Delight!
just a single word
it turns
the whole world bright!

I do my best

but am always aware

I might be far behind

all the rest


but life's a democracy

I'll have my small and gentle say:

we are each a part of society

none can force us to walk away

Writing is the fairest universal democracy
it doesn't deny entry of or discriminate against anybody

I do my best
but am always aware
I might be far behind
all the rest

but life's a democracy
I'll have my small and gentle say:
we are each a part of society
none can force us to walk away

What should I deny?
is there a reason why?

Why would I need
any deodorant?
have you smelt
my armpit or body?
If about yourself
you are concerned
shop for the best
in the city!