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Points of Contact with Others
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The Grand Committee meets
Tonight as every month the Grand Committee meets
In the small room attached like an after-thought to the imposing Community Centre;
a cold, damp room of little comfort, lit by bare bulbs casting angled shadows
in corners, undisturbed by feet trying to warm a place under the tables;
and casting spidery ones in front of gnawed ball-point pens rushing
across bright-paper sheets kept in order by unbending grey lines.
The Grand Committee meets as every month
around a half-moon of easy-storage easy-open space-saving tables
whose age-worn melamine surfaces speak of many past meetings, and
roughened by embedded traces of learning, impatience, frustration, that oncel
flowed hastily from mind and mouth through pen to paper; tables carrying signs of happy
party days, uncountable candle burnmarks and sticky tape with corners of paper-damask .
The Grand Committee meets on this day to plan next year's togetherness .
What will the ordinary members do, see, eat, offer, and who is responsible.
Each suggestion floats across the tables and bounces off stark walls .
The secretary is glowing warmly through effort of recording quick-pace
proceedings for posterity's scrutiny, fighting bravely writers cramp.
An almost silent noise lifts The Committee out of tense arguments.
The Grand Committee meets the Refreshments Officer, as every month.
Hot coffee, hot tea, flowing from battered thermos flasks
into an imaginative collection of cups and mugs taken from a pine shelf.
So much more than a warm drink, The Committee appreciates this
symbol of fruitful unity, selfless sacrifice of the comfy chair by the fire
to provide its ordinary members with Grand Committee community spirit.
The Grand Committee, what Power, what Importance, what Weight. Despite this
the Grand Committee relaxes; just ordinary people, working, for others.
They toast the hot coffee, the hot tea, the invention of the thermos flask.
And a thank-you is recorded to honour the thoughtful person
who brought the home-made ginger cake, still oven-warm,
to revive stiff writing-fingers, tired minds, stretched patiences -
Enthusiasm is rekindled for another meeting, next month.
The Grand Committee requires more members and
secretly hopes there be hot chocolate, flap-jacks and carrot cake joining.
Copyright © 2002 Aeo
Copyright © 2002 "Art&Facts"
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Computer-assisted search
Fingers caressing carefully
plastic concave squares,
thoughts as fine as silken thread
and as strong as my conscious
float along smooth fibre.
Enveloped emotion,
automatic response.
I have lost a piece of my life's puzzle.
My fingers circle across the keys
of my transparent key board,
hoping to find lost ideas in the depth of mechanical magic.
Only a thin blanket of plastic,
clear like ice
between me and my thoughts, those pieces of Me-Puzzle.
Why so lost my idea, where so hidden my thought.
If I went back in time, would I be more skillful?
Copyright ©2002 Aeo
Copyright ©2002 "Art & Facts"
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Gentle Power
To Torsten - a good friend
He looks like a solid stick clad in thick black leather
long strides take him purposefully towards his goal.
A narrow face, eyes half closed against the sun,
two black gloves with musketeer cuffs in one hand
and in the other a basket and a tinkling of keys.
Avoiding obstacles in his path with the elegance of a panther
he looks down on most of the passers-by from his 6foot10
and bends down smiling warmly into faces of those smaller friends
he easily picks out from the crowd meandering through market stalls.
Here and there he stops, fills a worn wicker basket with bags,
carrying this cornucopia of fragrant freshness carefully
and whistling a tune from Vivaldi.
He expertly fastens his basket to his waist,
calls his mum on his silver phone checking that he bought everything,
and swings athletically onto the massive seat
of a powerfully shimmering Harley Davidson.
Copyright ©2002 Aeo
Copyright ©2002 "Art&Facts"
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