Friday, 9 November 2012
Robert Chrysler was one of these. He befriended me on facebook back in April 2010, possibly because he identified with someone who shared a poetic pulse, I can never be sure.I began to admire his posts immensely, his outsider edge and his obvious love of freedom, connecting the obvious, to the rather arcane with a strong surrealist bent. I never met him and it is not a long time to have had an acquaintance, but it was a connection I valued.,
'Robert Chrysler He said of himself ' is an inspired subway ranter from Toronto, Canada. He enjoys challenging capitalist property, trying to figure out what the post structuralists are going on about, and dreams of someday living in a tree.'
I looked forward to hearing his voice....then recently notced that his daily facebook pages had drifted away. I looked at his profile 2 days ago and was shocked and deeply saddened to find he had suddenly passed away on the 4th of October.
His thoughts always invigorating and stimulating, I discovered too how long this great man had spent on journeys of difficulty and hardship. There were battles with drugs and homelessness, yet he never seemed to have lost his sense of humour, and a thirst for something new, a hunger too for social justice.
A great intellect, who came along and inspired, so thanks Robert R.I.P, you have taken me places where it will take a lifetime to look.
Here are some links to his writings, that give an insight to his great mind.
An interview with him here.
This is something I wrote the other night.
We follow echoes
and make connections,
follow paths back and forth
swaying slightly,listen to distant
blossoms become dreams.
gravitate through portal windows,
urgent smiles fall out of
make contact, out of view
Our hungry reflections criss cross,
on journeys where we grow
planting seeds , tableaus of love
humming through the darkness,
when often the sky gets too bright
into the air voices drift,
call out in a world of international paths
we share things,bringing the outside in,
conjure magic,release waking steam
through chasms of anchorage,
we touch the edge of horizons path
as our wings keep moving,
our reckless fingers flutter
as we dive for breath,
beneath our dirty fingernails
and chaos bubbles,
releases the warmth of fiery flame,
in the end the sky closes in
but the river keeps on flowing.
Posted by teifidancer at 11:21