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RELENTLESS – by Kurt April (October 1997)


He looks for the signs, the space, the way

that things will emerge, will form

Be moved

Out from intention, spiralling from a centre

A core

The shape that things will take

To come forth in


So that he, a patchwork of black and white

Touched black in his heart

His inner

Touched white in his appearance

His Outer

Will stand out

Totally his apparent self


Initially looking for the shape

But later

Being available to any shape that may be summoning itself

Through him

From the self, fashioned in the struggle

Not mine, but ours

He remains a machine


He looks for the forms, the images, the impressions

Things want to come as, others want to show up as

What wells of possibility are they presenting

How will they unfold

Who are they, what are they


Not through planning

Not the shape on paper

But the means


Not so much looking for the shape

Not so much any shape

But the shape, the necessary shape


To remain a machine




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