Harold Pinter (1930-2008)

British writer, poet, playwright and actor.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/uk/2008/dec/25/harold-pinter-dies

I first came across Pinter's work sometime during 2005. It got stuck on me and never left. His work in all its formats channelled life experiences and observations into stories, poems, essays and plays that resonated with the fragility of the human condition (love, death, conflict) and the world around us. Pinter was passionate, raging, fiercely political and quintessentially human.

Now he's gone and there's a void.

Death May Be Ageing (April 2005)

Death may be ageing
But he still has clout

But death disarms you
With his limpid light

And he's so crafty
That you don't know at all

Where he awaits you
To seduce your will
And to strip you naked
As you dress to kill

But death permits you
To arrange your hours

While he sucks the honey
From your lovely flowers