Author: Morgan Michael
Jetty Cafe – Dennes Point
Stillness prevailed. You could hear the sound of bird wing. A Sea Eagle sweeping A Dolphin leaping. Sea – a great swatch of interference colour, Opalescent, blue and then orange in my peripheral vision. The door open. Kris and Ray give welcome As though I was the Prodigal Son. […]
Sunset over the Water
My palette of synthetic pigment. Pure paint. I am going to paint ‘Nature!’ I suffer from absurdities of theory. Empedocles, Democritus, Plato and Aristotle. Their eyes could not even see the true nature of things. Apelles said, “Four colours only.”
Enchantment and total connectedness made the stones speak.|
My soul and body, my breath,
My relationship with the water gives me knowledge.
Effortless, I conjure up ancient history.
My imagination is rife.
The Nuenone People.
Their spirits give a brooding frisson to my present time.
Sixty thousand year old burnt remains of shells lie in a sandwich of ochre and mud.
The wind had a memory,
It told me of things that had never been said,
Storms of history, ancient runes, broken, dismembered,
Then thrown into my face in spume. ‘Saat.’
The sickle edged moon etched,
Acid formed in the backdrop of my world.
I Was Not Found in A Suitcase…But I was named….
By Michael Morgan I still see the images as though projected on a wall screen or a plasma T.V. set, super clear and detailed, the single gold fish in a bowl leaving an iridescent slick as it moved, the white screens around my bed. I can still smell the coal […]
By Michael Morgan Common speech, (if you can call speech common) whatever that may mean, often uses the name of a creature or an animal to describe a human quality, and generally as a class they are warm, active, sensitive, and have redeeming features – but not always. How […]
A Birthday To Remember
The food was prepared, the table set. It looked like a subject for a Renoir or Bonnard. Just luscious to look at. Time for a relax, guests due to come at 7 p.m. Divine aromas of luscious food cooking permeated the atmosphere. Bliss!!
The guests arrived on time. The first drink was poured and then we heard the fire siren, and then another. The hills around reverberated with the sound.
Oh no!… I was a member of the voluntary Country Fire Authority.
Homage To Frederick
For fifty years every April llth, my birthday, I have taken from my bookshelf a small, blue, relief stamped volume, entitled “Life of Frank Buckland,” printed by Nelson. Not a great book, but fascinating, a grand opening to a new world for a young man obsessed with learning. When I […]