In Glorious Retrospect
A prose poem by Tyne O’Connell
I am my souls yearnings to reach beyond, to transmute the ordinary into the extraordinary, to cut a line of one’s the in the pursuit of Art, beauty & pleasure; the glorious triumvirate of all who dare…,
To look beyond the looking glass, beyond the tangle of mathematical knots & identity-kits of DNA, hormones, the piles of broken genes & dissembled cells, & reach into the divine.
The alchemy of eccentricity the transmutation of disappointment & loss into the opulence of prose – the poetry of a daring cut of a hand-made suit, or a purple hat worn on a noble tilt; the history of the peacock feathers wrapped around the band woven through the narrative like the essential slash of red lipstick my Armour against the glances of pity & concern.
A plastic bucket dropped down on a rope from my 4th floor walk up on Mount Street Mayfair, awaiting a dozen oysters & a bottle of Ruinart from Scotts, a box of Cuban cigars from Sautters. The mundane rendered glorious by time.
The bandage wrapped around a crumbling castle, the exhibition of all my wounds & tumours & broken bones & mortal-inadequacies stretched on canvases & glazed with hope & regret. I watch them floating along the Venice Canals, my cotillion of suffering exulted by the renaissance splendour of the floating city, tourists watch & take selfies as 14 glazed canvases pass under the historic agonies of The Bridge of Sighs like faded picture postcards of another life.
All is made glorious in retrospect.
An afternoon with fellow Eccentric Daniel Lismore capturing the grandeur of my sick-bed, strewn with hand-crafted colourful crocodile skin Hermes Birkins…Each one a hand stitched treasure, as is Charles Darwins colleague & friend, a Bonobo who died over a 170 years ago & rose again as a dowager Countess, Lady Bailey. Death cannot dim magnificence nor end her story for she carries on as all art of eccentrics carries on, her presence resplendent in a Victorian diamond tiara & ropes of pearls; an immortal reminder of her moment in the spotlight at The Great Exhibition of 1851. For Eccentrics live on beyond the confines of mortality, as Chopin lives on in the cliff hangers of falling notes of love & longing that tumble & float through the romance of his Preludes, as alive as my memory of an afternoon with you my beloved Daniel Lismore will live on….
capturing the eternal beauty, of what it means to be unfettered by time or convention or mortality – in glorious retrospect
The suspended perfect moment reigns eternal.