Opening slowly as a forgotten murmuring dream Undressed, naked in its sepia hidden secret years
Of once bright orange stamen, now stained, ingrained As an old nicotined finger of petal thin skin Pointing it’s impress to words of once love of a lost memory Sacrificed in a last act of submission Inscribed by copperplate indigo ink that has paled As lost old eyes that no longer see, now to be found
By other fingers that have touched the soul of sorrow Kissed by lips that have tasted hopelessness
1. Work on one thing at a time until finished. 2. Start no more new books, add no more new material to “Black Spring.” 3. Don’t be nervous. Work calmly, joyously, recklessly on whatever is in hand. 4. Work according to Program and not according to mood. Stop at the appointed time! 5. When you can’t create you can work. 6. Cement a little every day, rather than add new fertilizers. 7. Keep human! See people, go places, drink if you feel like it. 8. Don’t be a draught-horse! Work with pleasure only. 9. Discard the Program when you feel like it–but go back to it the next day. Concentrate. Narrow down. Exclude. 10. Forget the books you want to write. Think only of the book you are writing. 11. Write first and always. Painting, music, friends, cinema, all these come afterwards.