David BarnesParkinson's workshop
dedicated to: Dennis greenefingers trembleslowly moving through pages, yet with certainty the pen moves through imposed restrictions, shifting language in precision, words come; go by the way, discarded, painting the colours of expression. seasons flow through him pass, return; stimulating mind, implants; hands retrieve the balancing case, colored pills ingested, a semblance of respite from unwanted burdens. i have learned much about parkinson's disease from hesitant poetic hands. i listen to his criticisms as he lacerates my words, moving black pigment on crisp white pages. we didn't ask for this his disease, my infirmity, though we know the broken road, word-for-word. and he would be first to say, short stanzas potent in meaning need no biography, no explanation. copyright © revised: debarnes march 2001 -12th send private comments to author: db@aceonline.com.au
|