Poems by will

the hill

I infect you

with affection, you

receive my infection with love

you love him and infect him, he

infects her with affection, she

infects me -

we carry our cross

we roll our rock

a case of

Sisyphus’s syphilus

for a hippie  (1960s)

drop in sometime

to find out

it’s still in

to drop out

metaphor

funny how real shit

is the least shit

of all shit 

paradox
men are mad
hens are sad
'cause they're not men 

Messerschmidt

In 1781, German author Friedrich Nicolai visited Messerschmidt at his studio in Pressburg and subsequently published a transcript of their conversation. Nicolai's account of the meeting is a valuable resource, as it is the only contemporary document that details Messerschmidt's reasoning behind the execution of his character heads. It appears that for many years Messerschmidt had been suffering from an undiagnosed digestive complaint, now believed to be Crohn's disease, which caused him considerable discomfort. In order to focus his thoughts away from his condition, Messerschmidt devised a series of pinches he administered to his right lower rib. Observing the resulting facial expressions in a mirror, Messerschmidt then set about recording them in marble and bronze. His intention, he told Nicolai, was to represent the 64 "canonical grimaces" of the human face using himself as a template.   {Source:  Wikipedia}

          Messerschmidt set portraiture into another dimension.  That of the absurd. 

Sources of images

Unable to trace the origins of the

images 

The Dog-People

What will they say of our view of the world in 700 years' time?  
Here is an extract from The Travels of Sir John Mandeville, published in 1360.

After that isle men go by the sea ocean, by many isles, unto an isle that is called Nacumera, that is a great isle and good and fair. And it is in compass about more than a thousand mile.  And all the men and women of that isle have hounds’ heads, and they be called Cynoceptales.  And they be full reasonable and of good understanding, save that they worship an ox for their God.  And also every one of them beareth an ox of gold or of silver in his forehead, in token that they love well their God.  And they go all naked save a little clout.  They be great folk and well-fighting.  And they have a great targe [shield] that covereth all the body, and a spear in their hand to fight with.  And if they take any man in battle, anon they eat him. 

Source
Quotation and image from
The Travels of Sir John Mandeville, edd. Denny and Filmer-Sankey.  Collins, London. 1973. 

John Lennon

John Lennon (1940-1980) produced two books which, as I remember, were largely jottings he had done as a teenager.  One was "In his own write" and the other "Spaniard in the works".  

Here is an extract from the introduction of one of the books: 

About The Awful
I was bored on the 9th of Octover 1940 when, I believe, the Nasties were still booming us led by Madolf Heatlump (who only had one). Anyway they didn't get me. I attended to varicous schools in Liddypol. And still didn't pass -- much to my Aunties supplies. As a member of the most publified Beatles my (P, G, and R's) records might seem funnier to some of you than this book, but as far as I'm conceived this correction of short writty is the most wonderfoul larf I've every ready.
God help and breed you all.  

I remember too, the moment in the Beatles' first movie Hard Day's Night when, in a train compartment with the four of them messing around, a rather pompous old, bowler-hatted man expresses his indignation for their apparent lack of respect for him.

"I fought the war for the likes of you," the old one says, haughtily.

Lennon answers, "Aren't you sorry you won?"  

Source
John Lennon, Spaniard in the Works. Penguin. 
Image -  johnlennon.com

P a r a d o x e s

The Thing

This song from the early 1950s remains cryptic, tantalising and absurd.  I sometimes wonder whether it wasn't an anti-nuke protest.  It might also refer to the subversive nature of self-knowledge.  It was written by Charles Randolph Grean and sung by Phil Harris, among others. 

The boom-boom-boom was done with three strikes on a deep drum...  

While I was walking down the beach one bright and sunny day

I saw a great big wooden box a-floatin’ in the bay

I pulled it in and opened it up and much to my surprise

Ooh, I discovered a boom-boom-boom, right before my eyes

Oh, I discovered a boom-boom-boom, right before my eyes

I picked it up and ran to town as happy as a king

I took it to a guy I knew who’d buy most any thing

But this is what he hollered at me as I walked in his shop

Oh, get outta here with that boom-boom-boom, before I call a cop

Oh, get outta here with that boom-boom-boom before I call a cop

I turned around and got right out, a-runnin’ for my life

And than I took it home with me to give it to my wife

But this is what she hollered at me as I walked in the door

Oh, get outta here with that boom-boom-boom, and don’t come back no more

Oh, get outta here with that boom-boom-boom, and don’t come back no more

I wandered all around the town until I chanced to meet

A hobo who was looking for a hand-out on the street

He said he’d take most any old thing, he was a desperate man

But when I showed him the boom-boom-boom, he turned around and ran

Oh, when I showed him the boom-boom-boom, he turned around and ran

I wandered on for many years, a victim of my fate

Until one day I came upon St. Peter at the gate

And when I tried to take it inside, he told me where to go

Get outta here with that boom-boom-boom and take it down below

Oh, get outta here with that boom-boom-boom and take it down below

The moral of this story is if you’re out on the beach

And you should see a great big box and it’s within your reach

Don’t ever stop and open it up, that’s my advice to you

‘Cause you’ll never get rid of the boom-boom-boom, no matter what you do

Oh, you’ll never get rid of the boom-boom-boom, no matter what you do

Source
artists.letssingit.com/phil-harris-the-thing 

Judgement Day

Cape Town airport shuttle ...  

Source
Photo by will