Of all the factors that led to the idea of putting together and publishing these poems or rather verses as I see them, none is more important than the opinion of friends and newspaper editors. They are common folks, and are still given to their own commonly driven emotions. For a long time, they were my fans and they still remain so. Therefore, it was difficult to hide these (personal reflections) from their prying eyes, especially when they are in my studio - looking at paintings on one hand and reading through the likes of My Mother's voice, Charm, between Her face and I, Your breath on My brow, My Childhood past, last breath, another day Africa and many times, to mention a few. Their attitude (though urbane) made me believe in the notion of a commonplace, that wherever the contentions of a creative dominion (appreciatively talking) reigns the most, there is a good thing (a certainty) that the mutual affection of art and poetry will not be very far off. In the past, some read or either listened through readings by other people, and showed their emotions by crying. I mean shedding real tears, because they could relate to the contents of true life and experience - as put forward by The Pilgrim, between hanging and mid-life crises, Dear Sgt Major, Feeding but not Grazing, Another day Africa, A powdered rose, a perfect danger, Going Greek etc. Others asked for (signed) printed copies, which they later on bind, arranged and even performed themselves. By doing so, they were able to extract characters that sympathize (in a way) with their relationship on one hand, and another that reveals them for what they are, whilst there are other dimensions (according to most feedbacks) that still maintain a certain degree of neutrality. The Cat fighting its Claw, Pain when hooked, the problem of undressing a First love and others with a more romantic tone happens to be their most amiable examples and was more popular with this set of people.
