Into At Upon

Rene Magritte-The False Mirror 1929

Sometimes it is difficult to look into you
For your eyes are a mirror reflecting
Staring through the facade of facile charm
Seeing into my ragged threadbare soul
Held together with staples and sellotape
An echoing chamber of other’s voices
You already know that I’m ancient and weary
And I fear your lofty disdain and contempt

Sometimes it is difficult to look at you
For I know that you possess qualities
That blaze with the intensity of a young star
Nurturing vast seething potentialities
Spreading a soft burnished golden light
Over the warming oceans of its satellite
Illuminating the deepest ravine and valley
Far too fierce to be gazed upon directly

Sometimes it is difficult to look upon you
For this is samsara and we are flowing
Downstream towards the roaring rapids
By chance we floated past each other
And I felt a fleeting sensation of affinity
But soon the current will change course
And with each ebbtide we will drift apart
Taking different tributaries to the destination

Diamond

Mandala of Pancharaksha

Dream that descend as waterfalls
Illuminating diamond brilliance deepest night
The glowing tail of a shooting star
Flashes of lightning amidst menacing clouds
Lamp shining in an assassin’s cave
Upon awakening transparent as bubbles
Illusions in the watery morning light
See the endless things as a dewdrop

Empire of Light

Rene Magritte-L’empire des lumières

Incising memory

Of exorcised desire

Upon the crest

Surveying an Empire of Light

Superimposed upon the mazy suburban grid

Etched in bold relief against the satin backdrop

Myriad glowing grains

Reflections of the larger part of a broken China plate

I was told without a shadow

That this was the way back

The path home

But everything here is unfamiliar and strange

I must have misheard or been misled

I have to return to the starting point

Follow the road to within

The only sure course to reach the wider realm without

Colour Schema

Ellen Rogers
Ellen Rogers

Your fingertips glance
Glide press down there
Glissade here yes
Definitely right there
Now your touch
Locks me up
In a prism of colour
Chromatic schema
Red-black-blonde
Linger forever
Jade hazel verdigris
Slate azure golden
Still-point the centre
Slightest impact
Implosion the taste
Of mouths filled
Consumed with star
Light turning inward
Rushing recklessly
Onwards towards
The horizon event
Vanilla honeyed tristesse.

Stars of The Atrocity Exhibition: Marilyn Monroe

Marilyn Diptych 1962 by Andy Warhol 1928-1987
Andy Warhol-Marilyn Diptych 1962
The ‘Soft’ Death of Marilyn Monroe. Standing in front of him as she dressed, Karen Novotny’s body seemed as smooth and annealed as those frozen planes. Yet a displacement of time would drain away the soft interstices, leaving walls like scraped clinkers. He remembered Ernst’s ‘Robing’; Marilyn’s pitted skin, breasts of carved pumice, volcanic thighs, a face of ash. The widowed bride of Vesuvius.

J.G Ballard-You:Coma: Marilyn Monroe-The Atrocity Exhibition 1966

Marilyn Monroe’s death was another psychic cataclysm. Here was the first and greatest of the new-style film goddess, whose images, unlike those of their predecessors, were fashioned from something close to the truth, not from utter fiction. We know everything about Marilyn’s sleazy past-the modest background, the foster homes and mother with mental problems, the long struggle as a starlet on the fringes of prostitution, then spectacular success as the world embraced her flawed charm, loved by sporting idols, intellectuals and, to cap it all, the US President. But she killed herself, slamming the door in the world’s face.

A kind of banalisation of celebrity has occurred; we are now offered an instant, ready to mix fame as nutritious as packet soup. Warhol’s screen-prints show the process at work. His portraits of Marilyn Monroe and Jackie Kennedy drain the tragedy from the lives of these desperate women, while his day glow palette returns them to the innocent world of the child’s colouring book.

Annotations-The Atrocity Exhibition 1990