Biography of michael oliver
I started as a painter but a book of chinese poems brought when I was seventeen opened up a new world of sensitivity.Started writing.I go through phases am writing again at the moment, also taking photographs.It's a way of finding out what is there.Always looking for the most concise way of saying and yet suggesting something bigger.
michael oliver Poems
Chells Memory 2
Wrapped in settling snow from the warm pink Flakes upon flakes upon patterns and soft geometry My dad pulls me and sled snow silent Him the single shape through flake and flake
While at Christian tea over the desk Asked the white collared guru So what is Holy? The gentle claptrap of church speak
In the star field The moon shining A bright token Calling on life
The metal black stove Cooled by nights decay Forever dads first task This cottage day reanaiscance
The Blush Of Apples
Those eleven apples A seasons festoon Green slowly defeated And blush triumphant
Against the sky The leaves and seeds Await my brush And betrayal
She Walks Away
She walks away receding A framed hardship Once she chased boys A child's different corridor
Giving It Large A Homage To S.D.
Under the lamp under the sodium a yellow quick clasp Well mate how does
full moon rises along the street even lamposts bow their heads
tea bowl in hand all reflection green tea surface my idle mind
The Six Wet Summer Haiku
1. the uncontrolled hedge the garden roses define summers attraction
My Holy (Revised Version)
The Christian cup of tea - handed and asking Asking the stiff white collared guru Askig the collar - So what is Holy? The clap trap of church speak delivered - Squawk!