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CONCRETEBirmingham

B I R M I N G H A M S N E W A R T A N D C U L T U R E M A G A Z I N E

PHOTOGRAPHY ILLUSTRATION COLLAGE POETRY

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CONCRETE///NEW ART

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Ti m e present a n d t i m e

p a s tAre both perhaps pre-sent in time future,And time future con-tained in time past.If all time is eternally presentAll time is unredeemable.What might have been is an abstractionRemaining a per-petual possibilityOnly in a world of speculation.What might have been and what has been

Point to one end, which is al-ways present.Footfalls echo in the memory

Down the passage which we did not takeTowards the door we never openedInto the rose-

garden. My words echoThus, in your mind.But to what purposeDisturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leavesI do not know.Other echoesInhabit the gar-den. Shall we follow?Quick, said the bird, find them, find them,Round the corner. Through the first gate,Into our first world, shall we followThe deception of the thrush? Into our first world.There they were, dig-nified, invisible,Moving without pres-sure, over the dead leaves,In the autumn heat,

through the vibrant air,And the bird called, in response toThe unheard music hid-den in the shrubbery,And the unseen eyebeam crossed, for the rosesHad the look of flow-ers that are looked at.There they were as our guests, accepted and accepting.So we moved, and they, in a formal pattern,Along the empty al-ley, into the box circle,To look down into the drained pool.Dry the pool, dry con-crete, brown edged,And the pool was filled with water out of sunlight,And the lotos rose, quietly, quietly,The surface glittered out of heart of light,And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,

Hidden excited-ly, containing laughter.Go, go, go, said the bird: human kindCannot bear very much reality.Time past and time futureWhat might have been and what has beenPoint to one end, which is always present.

T.S. Eliot

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T.S. Eliot

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TimePresent///TimePast

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Reaching an alleyThe bird takes flightLeaving me in the boulevard To face alone my shattered dreamsBetween the build-ings, lost in timeSlow footsteps creep up my spineI shiver only to findWhispers echoing in the corner of my mind I walk alone, in the dark of night

Start running, trying to escapeEscape from the dark fearsEscape from the painful truthI opened up my eyes to find my way throughPassing by cold, gloomy buildingsStopping for a while and looking through a windowIn need to find myself againLooking at my reflectionLooking into my eyesFind a little light Which will lead me through the night

As my footsteps lead the wayA butterfly flies byCircling around me With heart shaped crimson wingsResting on my shoulder For just a little whileAnd it flies away againLeaving a cloud of hope in my mind Surrounded by hopeMy journey has just begun

Walking towards a mag-nificent golden door To find what once was lostNo one can stop meAnd no one can harm mePassing through the doorFinding a peace-ful place for the mindAnd in my heart a bird with flaming wings sings.A new beginning risesA new story

Glowing leaves outline the pathLeading to a glorious old tree

And once again the bird appears and says to me ‘Go on and make your dreams come trueMake your beliefs the light in your heartAnd fight for what you deserveTake the chanceAnd you will find What you have missed all this timeThere are a few paths you can takeUse your heart and not your headTo choose the right oneFor you will seeYour heart is strong-er than you think

Without thinking My heart leads the wayA bath full of rosesThat takes me awayI pick up a roseAnd place it in my hairMaking my way to an unusual fountainA wish-making foun-tain with glittering watersWhose beauty could not be described.

Letting my fingers run be-tween the shiny stonesTo realize that this is not a dreamSitting on the edgeThe depth does not scare me As I touch the water A shield of protection Covers me like a soft blanket Playing with the water And wonderingIs this for real?What should I wish for?Do I get only one wish?Letting the rose that was in my hairFall in the water and watching it floatMy wish has been made

Hoping for the bestLooking at my reflection As the shiny waters re-veal a second reflectionSurprised I lift my eyes To realize that this was not an illusionThere is silence as our feelings take overStaring in each other’s eyesShearing our lights

Every doubt dis-appears as our hands meetGiving me a flaming red tulip We follow a path That was laid for us to follow.

EK

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Moving through the prerequisites which fashioned us here,We stop and hold while the structures bloom above.With concentration and timing we can see all, past, future.What does now hold?I am just as lost as you are.Make a note of the time when we first thought about it, but only in time can that moment become clear.Acres of space fill the void which once were true, now what wehold true can only be imag-ined.A new world stretches before, one of concrete and pavement.How can this be under-stood, once told where once forgotten is nowall we have to ensure the future is true.

Day shimmers to a close, and light passes us by, into the darkness can it still be remembered?Perpetual silence fills that void.Stillness in time and pres-ence, deprivation holds.Abstinence from the world.

Form, function, here and now, presence holds us near.With the fluttering of dust, creeps the dark from the light.How can we hold on to what we already have so close.Movement is key.Temptation rears itself in many forms, none least the promise oflight which can lead us from the perpetual dark.Only through cause can we see.Limitation can be only one.

Which is living, which holds us near, the one who holds us close.All that we know can be defined in this one moment, nothing is clearer.Water trickles and flows, ebbs and weaves.With this knowledge we can move forward, undaunted by the night.Where this power comes, we can understand our knowledge,placing practice first and implementing later.

Do we understand?

Only in this world of con-crete and pavement does it appear.The dust from the garden, the heat from the sun.What we hold close can only truly be free.The panic and the guidance is only temporary.Along a lonely path must we find solace.Contemporary.We move and they do too the symmetry moves to al-low motion.Reality is here, we must embrace.Always present, always there, time does not hold it only moves.

The tree exhales, the lungs we need. Where else can we find such grace.Together as one, each to whom, we find solace with each other.Excitedly true, this is one thing we know, for we need this to live.

We do Understand.

Mud and cold, the tree requires.The garden is full, but there will still be room once the quiet is silent.The summer once more

allows light to pass and embrace what we need.How could it of got to this?

Forward, forward, the cry from afar.By standing still we will be enveloped, we must em-brace.Together we will stand and be heard.

Only one hand can take another, with this we can move.Reality holds for no one but the quick.The pattern is set we must follow.What has been in the past holds true for today, if we understand, we can always move forward.

WH

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Time present and time pastAre both perhaps present in time future,And time future contained in time past.I am knowingly asleep, but still I want to dream,To be in a state of time present, time past, and time future,In a place where of their presence I am conscious, am I subconscious?

My ears ache with ghostly voices, so loud but vague, The resonance of familiar tones, calling me forward, or in fact, back.A dense mist covers the face of my sister, but I can see her.I recognise where I am, the trees and plants around me are scream-ing.Wake up.I identify the grass be-neath my feet, as that from home, my garden, our garden.But as I approach the one I love, her face fades, moves.I reach out. The mist col-lects forming a barrier, a locked gateway.Soaring, dark and in-tense. Angry and distant.I step back, falling it seems, But the further away i move, the clearer the fog becomes,The gateway opens. My sister smiles.But as I begin to walk

back towards her, the lock is once again bound.The fog returns.I turn, walk away, I can see what I want.I do not know what I want.I proceed. I feel a hand on my arm, a force pulling me back, I turn to see my sisters face yet again, smiling.Her face is young, empty and innocent, my breath-ing baby doll.The more I resist the more desperately she wants me.She needs me.But yet everytime I give in, she loosens her grip.Her face creased, know-ing and disappointed.Shes lonely.Thick fog.Childhood memories and voices seep into my head, twistingA reminiscent mist blurs my thoughts.My eyes glazed, I can’t see past the barrier, I can’t see past my sister.I cannot reach her, but I refuse to leave her be-hind.Her grip remains.A light rises, its morning. I’m mourning.Today, yesterday, tomor-row.I’m in a maze, turning, turning.

I can see the end, my destination.

But I am unaware of where it is, what it is.Awareness hits me; I have been making this journey for a long time, Beginning with a strong sense of direction, pas-sion, love.Its been fading, slipping away.I haven’t given up, i’m pushing forward, i will succeed.I am so distracted. Everytime I blink I notice something else, I absorb irrelevant information,Am I inspired? Voices, noise, move-ment, things I know, Things I want to know. Unfocused. Time waster. Insecure and worried.All of my senses are pre-occu-

pied, and I am slowing down.Stand still.Its today, i’ve been here before. Worrier. I’m fine, I know what I want.My mind clears, distrac-tions grow fainter and I hear voices, Some familiar, some distant and some reminis-cent. Helpful, caring, reassur-

ing and loving. The truth.They do not all know me.

Words I’ve heard before, conver-sations repeat-ed.

SH

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PhotographyWill Harris

IllustrationEleni Kakoulli

CollageSophie Hartshorn

PoemsWill HarrisEleni KakoluiSophie Hartshorn