Monthly Archives: January 2018

.light bulbs & cotton hankies.

. light bulbs, cotton hankies .
all things are useful, bulbs
bring light , denote ideas,
good intentions, spent,
collected.
cotton hankies, frayed hold the books,
yet those with nylon, stretch the skin
resulting in red and soreness.

shy away from dangerous commodities,
use the best, those tradtional artefacts
which are gentle on your soul, bring light.

wipe your nose clean.

sbm.
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today we have added notes for your interest.

A HANDKERCHIEF (also called handkercher or hanky) is a form of a kerchief, typically a hemmed square of thin fabric that can be carried in the pocket or purse, and which is intended for personal hygiene purposes such as wiping one’s hands or face, or blowing one’s nose. A handkerchief is also sometimes used as a purely decorative accessory in a suit pocket. When used as an accessory to a suit, a handkerchief is known as a POCKET SQUARE. There are a wide variety of ways to fold a pocket square, ranging from the austere to the flamboyant.

The material of a handkerchief can be symbolic of the social-economic class of the user, not only because some materials are more expensive, but because some materials are more absorbent and practical for those who use a handkerchief for more than style. Handkerchiefs can be made of cotton, cotton-synthetic blend, synthetic fabric, silk, or linen.

Historically, white handkerchiefs have been used in place of a white flag to indicate surrender or a flag of truce; in addition to waving away sailors from port. King Richard II of England, who reigned from 1377 to 1399, is widely believed to have invented the cloth handkerchief, as surviving documents written by his courtiers describe his use of square pieces of cloth to wipe his nose.

.a touch of red.

suggested at dinner, to make
a photograph splendid, i noticed
the same in paintings at exhibition.

looking out, the grave yard, noticed
a touch of colour by the white.

walked down to find a new grave.

then, i tidied yours.

you, who disliked a touch of red.

sbm.

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.dream.

. dream .

dressed in nightly surrender
i dreamed the dress in white,
tho silked in red.
blood ran looseon crumpled paper,
hung.

there is an art cafe
on saturday.

i cannot
hang the clothes
for fear of disrupting
the act.

i dream of drawing
that which you will not
see.

sbm

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.a private view.

. a private view .
let us look at things, differently.
often, we do things, no one ever sees.

that is you and me. two of us
dancing in the dark. it came
and went,

quickly.

will come again
in autumn, then

all can see.

this time,
it was a
private view.

sbm.

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.treading the boards.

. treading the boards.

clutter, the boards,
clatter the boards
in dance, balance.
make
quite a performance.
the best form of
recycling
here
at the theatre

we have plans
staged, a house
of cards, to weave
a dream.

steady hands, make light work.

sbm.

.spaces.

. spaces .
connect with spaces,
you may move differently.
sound different.

a specific style of dancing?

which reveals the environment as a character,

animation through animated intent

or something.

Johann Botha said this.
he is in Pretoria, he is
part of our audience

another sat quietly.
it can be dark.

the date is set.

24 this month
of autumn.

sbm.

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.today.

. today .
is after yesterday,
so today is now.
we meet at three,
removing boards
from the small lower room.

i imagine to the larger lower
room, which may be
full of boxes.

a black piano there,
a waking world.

we three, wiser now,
after yesterday.

come see, welcome thee.

sbm.

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.i need permissions.

to show you the pianist,
who played, red, from
her own design.
came together
with me and the dancer.

to start, later we will
continue,

shapes, the sound
and movement,

while no one is looking.

used what we had,
passed from one to the other,
quite a lot of red,
things.

it is a collaboration.

the piano had been idle.

until the pianist came.

steinway.

sbm

.the pianist.

heard her in the foyer,
playing while she waited.
heard her on stage,
where we were staging,
red.

that is a posh piano
all shine, and polish.

there is another downstairs
in the music room, we don’t
know if it is tuned.

so she plays with us
now, the resident artists
who live elsewhere.

who like the moon.

sbm.

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