If you were to venture inside my head, what would you find,
Geoff Maxted
Intrepid traveller? A random room perhaps; a febrile mind.
A window onto clouded gloom, looming over a closing horizon;
A hedonistic history of sorts to both explain and enlighten.
The story told is one of gamble, loss and winning chance,
like everyone really; tales of life and work and romance
That live on in synapses even though the book has closed.
Don’t delve too hard; dark corners are not disposed
To reveal the bitter truths, regrets, the simple horrors
of daily living in search of brighter tomorrows.
The brain is the repository of long forgotten things,
the good times and the bad, the faithless flings
That haunt our minds and taunt the lingering night,
waiting for blessed morning and the gathering light
Which brings hope for a new day, leaving worries behind.
Don’t travel here, look instead inside your own private mind,
Perhaps you’ll like the things you find;
a life defined.
Photo: Title: Head of Kreutzberg Artist: Karawina, Erica, from the collection of Boston Public Library
Read our “Camouflage” issue in full
RAWGUE.’s 4th issue delved into the grey, moody, and cold atmosphere of winter. Yet it did not sink into the depths of madness or depression. Instead, it embraced this season of hibernation, allowing 31 artists from all over the world to present their timid work beneath a veil of quiet beauty.
