Brixton Tower

photo: Gillian Wearing

What magical everies survive

This mad glitch, a house of

Krazies: losing your last cigarette

And being precious,

Finding loopholes in the fabric of space time

Where, is my pause when, is my

Cause

So many looks so silent so withdrawn.

If this is my reflection

Without sympathetic applause,

Must mean surety (don get none).

Big words spelled for me

Deep down in the blood of the sticky streets.

Well, welcome home to this!

So heavy so caught in handwriting writmess

I’ll find something paper tape pens

Userfriendlylibrary paint board nails

1-way mirrors.  Yeah, yeah I know it’s

Weird for me to be here too...

Just go with it.

Start thinking ahead now,

It’s that fresh smell of coffee.

see Nuclear Winter

A Golden Christ, sharp,

Hold me in here;

I plant new life for the Spring to move along

Its mellow way.

Cruising the suburbs in search of my Tower

Motor clashes suddenly loud in the day,

Crashing under the wooden floors

And echoing my loneliness in the night.

To get up and answer when I hear a good call,

This be precious alone time in glorious lasting

Coloured sunlight,

Just put some music on any old music will do -

Wonders

Make the veil of life transparent to see through

To the path,

That mesh of parallel universe existence in vacuum

I could fall through at any time

Delicate, so delicate

(but elastic) these frames,

This interlocking interconnected net of light

A trampoline

A space warp

And it hurts so bad

CLANK

see Self Made by Gillian Wearing

 

(untitled) Saturday thoughts

I find Time:
My only regret is that I have not regretted enough,
Dreamt too much
And not moved to move myself.


But now that I have met Time
There can be no late.
I am not afraid.


Eyes see
And others see.
We see each other,
Some kind of High!


Eyes rise to meet the Sun rise


Spirit
Energy
Life
Earth
Wind
Fire
Water
Friends
Family
God/Spirit
Patience
Honesty
Concern for others and the earth
Self discipline
Searching, questioning
Thinking
And knowing when to quit
Silence, Sleep, Sunlight, Moonlight
And all that Eyes in my humanness have forgotten
Memory.  Dreams.
Words.

Reconfiguration
Transfiguration
Inferred autocratic rebellion
In need of shared reference


Left behind, caught a ride:
Alienation - 
Mutable amicable mutation


What she sees is what she gets,
Swimming under purple stars reflected
On the cold, cold backs of her retinas.


Watered paper, crinkly and worn,
Torn and folded asleep,
Just like this.
Floating
Let me dream of Dolmens and Great Stones,
Menhirs of future Diamonds of us.

Sleep, Yesterday,
For Never Too Late
Is getting desperate

All photos by NCcrew, Blyde River Canyon roadtrip, Limpopo/Mpumalanga Province, South Africa

Unombono

A scratch-graffiti I did earlier this year on the wall down by the Cintsa East shops.  'Unombono' is isiXhosa for 'To have a vision'.  Below are two details from the design; the first one is a direct copy of the Enviropaedia logo.  A pack of 3 steel wool, free air to breathe and the sun on my back.

Fizzikall

see Street Art Utopia

In each waking moment

A decision made;

Does Man defy Death?

A questioning

Or

A chosen ignorance of situation

Anything to make life easier

Anything just to make that moment

Pass.

What if each moment were a gift

And we could mourn each one’s passing with

A celebration of the next

And Man could stand beside and

Laugh with Death

That Mystical Mantra

see Street Art Utopia

There once was a time I’d stay up all night

Take the drugs and drink the wine

Stay awake for the conversation

Ready for the fright of the dawn

My dry appeals for more, 
My juvenile elation

At all that room for second sight

And a Come sit with me, tell me what you see

Realisation led me closer to the door

That mystical mantra I seek, try as I might

Always evades me when I try to be Right

Each day wipes clear from memory

The day before