Shells Remaining…
(My new poem inspired by a Peter Brook painting,
‘Ruins With A Man Thinking 1’…)
Lifeless. A sad shell, a draining of memories, a death of life.
Outward frailty, encompassing a prolonged fragility,
A cold, impotent witness to the past.
What went on here? Love, trauma, heartache, physical pain?
What secrets were held here? Why the desertion?
The curious skeletal remains harbour those truths, which swirl and strain
In the intricacies and tragedies of familial strife…
Lifeless. A mere shell, drained of humanity, a death in strife.
Outward desiccation, protecting a permanence of fragility,
A dark mummified witness to its past.
What did he hold dear? Love, karma, heartache, physical strain?
What secrets shall we never hear? What of deception?
The curious skeletal remains hide the truths about his physical pain
And the intrigues and complexities of ancient Egyptian life…
Pete Ray…
9th February 2026…
After seeing the painting, I was reminded of seeing Tutankhamun’s mummified body late last year in his tomb.
The shell of ruined farm buildings seemed to have more in common with the shell of the Egyptian King’s remains than I at first thought…
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