the end of any act
is no more than

a decision
(silver bright)

to change focus

(for in the absence
of mind

there is but
one event

without distinction)



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the mind runs time
like a strict pimp

the realities are all
there

after appearing
the fact is eternal

just beneath
the surface

in the spin-off
worlds

(and without perturbation)

the movement
is inexorable

as complete
and vital

as a symphony

and just as embracing

as if there is
no outside

the idea is full
of reality

(there is only one)

potent / as the external
dimension

you move through
so artlessly

you might think
a sketch to be filled in

(if schooled too long
in Kant)

there is no masterpiece
to be made

it is all just ordinary

pale colourings
worn patterns

safe tracks

and here

the trick of the gods:
no mystery

(pimp and whore
how's that for the big
surprise)

the black beetle
devours everything

and the morning rain
brings to life

the old street

(before you know it)



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

shop girl

from a leather chair

(motion)

on diamond tiles
reflects

just like the mind

the shadow world
(underground)

in China
it is the same

but upside down

(from where you are)

a dead girl sits
in a shop window

still as alabaster

(in evening wear)

hands on her knees

eternity
will corrupt

and decompose

eventually

we will have nowhere
to go

(at the end of time)

children running
in delight


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

behind the hard
physic

of face and body

the absence

a desperate sketching
of line

on line / in line

no figure still

no picture true

energy
as
energy

seeking itself

consciousness

the madness of God

inside

the mask

of the world



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

lives lived

in utterness

brightness
at the heart

of stone

spirits
schooled

in the mythology

of sky



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007

you move
from the centre

and see the world
thus

others
see you as

a presence

of and in

the surface
of dust


(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the back room boys

know

there is no
foundation

to idea

of how
to be

and so

they direct
focus to

for and against

a constant
dialectic

they think

avoids
the truth

of defeat



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

between
the given of now

in all its colour
and shape

and the totality

the blank reference

the end of thought

the spirit
contorts

for equanimity

and so
the anguish
of eyes

and limbs

the accident of joy

the quiet terror
of continuance

(the impossibility
of knowing)



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

the elegant stance

is no position

the point
of no perspective

it is the grace
and dignity

of nature
without man

or the street
sculpture

without meaning



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

spiritual strength

against the vicissitudes
of life

is not a question
of reserve

there is no defence
to ordinary horror

at beat we can seek
a perspective

that takes
the evil act

or an unwelcome act
of nature

from the centre
of focus

and places it

within an eternity
of unaccountable events

there is no consolation
to be found

in the totality

only and end
to the question

why?



(c) greg. t. charlton. 2007.

Afghanistan

is a space

that cannot be
conquered

it's people

strong and gentle

defy
intrusion

it is a place

of

ancient culture
 ancient stone

it is the graveyard

 of history's fools




 (c) greg. t. charlton. 2007