Roy Joseph Cotton – September 11, '53 – March 10, '85

Roy commenced writing poetry during his latter school years. He read prolifically and was passionate about music and was a devote to Bob Dylan. He wrote many plays or "Musical Paintings" as he called them, and was also busy with two works "Multimythicum" and "Girlpools, Whirpools, and other gusts of Twirling Hair". He wrote from the security of a warm, close family in a comfortable Cape Town (South Africa) suburb. Yet most of his huge output of poems reflect a consuming angst. It was an angst which drove him to search for peace throughout books, music, writing, and religion, and it led to ultimate despair. His highly idiosyncratic way with language and the intense pressure of his emotional and spiritual concerns make his poetry compelling and disturbing reading. His untimely death at age of 31 cut short his promising career as a poet.

GENTLE OMENS

The thing is to give,
without asking from
the wind for blistering
respite. The thing is
to kiss without sapping
any swallow dry. The thing
is to hug without burnishing
to boredom the sallow hug
of any Tuesday sky. Only
when the tidings are tough,
do the paths return. Only
when what’s been measured
has been sought; doth the
gentle lips of the Infinity –
ladders peep beyond the
loop of the Dress. Only when
time has befriended slaves;
will the udders heave under
dark duress.

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