the writing

it often amazes me how I will write something completely..

well.. what seems to me.. to be completely

arbitrary.. only to discover a day or two later

that it is in fact a poem.. It reminds me that sitting down to write..

just to write.. when I may not have anything to say

is a form of acknowledging

the moment

that I am


acknowledging that all moments are like any other moments..

just beautiful and mysterious..

and just because the


thud of my

brain is

conjuring up dissonant thoughts does not

take away from the mystery in that moment..

and by picking up

a pen and writing

a little tap into that

beautiful gentle world is

opened up.


close too close

close too close I’m lying here in bed waiting

for not much at all… just a good

moment to grab my book and start

writing and escape for

the relentless to relent just a

break.. and then the new day

with the stiff neck still sitting

stiff on top of my shoulders

for the poetry waiting for that

strange structure which allows

the words to escape their cages

for a while.. that would be



Painting Cacophonia


when I go out painting at night

I am painting

with my nervous system’

when I go out.. and be

Sid Sledge

in the day Steve is looking

after the kids

making dinner

talking to my wife

Being the suburban man

but at some point I/He be Sid

and he can paint on the street.. but

while he is doing it

he knows.. Steve

is watching

and then grabbing the brush

then hE ?i takes it back

going What!?

We makes me nervous

and I use that for my painting


last night was easy.. I had just heard Vieux Farke Toure.. son of the late great. Ali Farke Toure at the Basement in Sydney… and even though the night club down the road I found myself painting outside had no soul… the strange wild blues of Vieux and his beautiful band were still in me…

Thanks Vieux.. and happy birthday!

© Copyright Sid Sledge Artist