1.  This was, in fact, the second printing of this text.  Edited by Alvin Greschler and published by Write Now Press of San Francisco, the first edition (consisting of only one hundred copies) was issued in August of 1969.  This edition was banned because it did not have a nude cover.

2.  The Complete Works of Samuel Tyldsley, Hoemler press 1974
(see note 1)
     Mr. Greschler often stoops to this kind of literary snobbery in an attempt to cloak his insufficient research.

3.  See Bibliography for a more "complete" listing.

4.  For example, the poems beginning, "Poor tortured fool..." and "Once was I young..." are clearly the models  for "The Wisest Man" and "Once upon a summer"  respectively.  Both poems can be found in Tyldsley's  Gilded Dreams (1966 Hoeffmeir Publishing Co.)

5.  For the benefit of any further research, the notebook was, in fact, the one now labeled C35 and kept in the Bourque private library in Yorkton, Saskatchewan.

6.  1950 Wilpman Books Inc.

7.  Dated March 10, 1948. From the private papers of Geoffrey Tyldsley Jr.

8.  The author is indebted to Mr. Horn for his original transcript of this interview.  Open Journal has been out of print since 1959.  Original copies are nearly impossible to find and, because bird droppings contain so much acid, they are rarely legible.

9.  Open Journal Volume 9, Number 1, page 47.

10. Though the rumors of any romantic involvement between Tyldsley and Bourque were dispelled when Miss Bourque married in the spring of 1963, it is clear that Bourque and Tyldsley shared a close personal as well as professional  friendship.

11. Most of these notes were in the file now marked CF231-68 and kept in the Bourque private library.

12. CF291 in the Bourque library.

13. 1966 Hoeffmeir Publishing Company.

14. The author is grateful to Father Joseph C. Tyldsley for access to this material.

15.  Among these are:
                         Tyldsley's Treasure, by S. Gradstone Jr.
                                    1969 K.R.U. press, Boston.
                         The Collected Tyldsley, edited by Jason
                                    Stark 1969, Hoeffmeir  Publishing Co.
                         A Tyldsley Anthology, edited by Mark
                                    Tearsen 1970, Grieg Press  Ltd., London
                         The Tyldsley Journals, by H.F. Stoneham
                                    1970, Atwin Press Inc.,  Newark, NJ
                         Tyldsley,_a_critical_study, by Linda Bach
                                    1971, Birchman Books  Ltd., New York
                         Tyldsley: A Life?, by Marie McVicker
                                    1973 Gerhnam Books,  Rochester, New York
 
       and of course, the first printing of Greschler's
                         Complete Works of Samuel Tyldsley, 1969,
                                    Write Now Press,  San Francisco, CA

16. There are many theories about the meaning of this work.  It seems to have little meaning when taken literally and yet to some it is crystal clear. It has been said to be perhaps the most elaborate suicide note ever  written.  Others feel it is confession of Tyldsley's personal life.  There are others who claim the work is almost entirely detached from Tyldsley himself,  the burden of meaning being shifted to the reader.  Perhaps it was never meant to be seen at all.  We may never know for certain.

17.  Not only is the dating of this manuscript uncertain, but indeed, the death of Samuel Tyldsley is also uncertain.  Perhaps he merely retired quietly to the country, or even to a foreign land.  If so he must certainly be writing and we may, perhaps in vain, hope to hear of him again.
       (see also, NOTES 21)

18. Interview, Open Journal magazine, January 1959, volume 9, number 1, page 39.

19. From originally unmarked folder CF115, Bourque private library.

20. Tyldsley: A Life? by Marie McVicker, Gerhnam Books, Rochester, New York, 1973

21. The illustrated manuscript found on the day of Tyldsley's disappearance represents a self-evaluation which entails confusion, disagreement, innuendo,  rationalization, and uncertainty.  Debate takes place,  though not in the form of a traditional dialogue, between distinct voices.  These voices are in an authoritative, practical voice depicted as a black, gothic script, a somewhat antagonistic and negative voice, represented by a red, angular script, and what seems to be the voice of our central character, a sincere and temperate, though confused, voice, written as a blue, gentle, cursive script.
 
 
 
 

   See I now

   the vision

      I betrayed:

   darkest shadows

      in the night

   yielding to the day.
 
 

     S. F. Tyldsley
 
 
 
 

    This piece, in the cursive, blue script, is the introduction to this series of poems.  The name is signed and has been verified as that of Tyldsey.  It is written on heavy, yellow, calligraphic stock of the papyric variety.
     In this, Tyldsley seems to confess to having been trapped in the common situation of being so lost in despair that one does not believe time could possibly subdue his pain.  A generalization of such an ordeal must surely follow.
     The concrete image of the poem is a sunrise.  The mind often takes precedent over the eyes in darkness.  One sees things other than they are in daylight and one often fears what one sees.  One may forget that dawn is on its way.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

    Unfurled for thee,
     a common tale,
  yet not mistaken;
    for virtues rod,
     in thy grasp
    as well mine own,
     measures oft
    to scarce avail.
 
 
 

     This poem, written in black, gothic script, is more introduction.  In this verse, Tyldsley warns the reader of what he may find within the pages which follow.  The author states that, while his story may be considered irrational or immoral by some, it is an accurate account of his experience. He makes the observation that a moral, conventional standard is often insufficient to measure true-life experience.
     The piece is on a field of blue.  The blue is textured with very close diagonal lines and three noticeably dark horizontal ridges.  This probably represents a surrealistic skyscape, with the  diagonal texture representing sunshine and the horizontal ridges being clouds.
     A blossoming tree limb is seen in the foreground.  The small, round leaves and the stiff, prominent texture of the bark together with the small, white blossoms indicate that it is an apple tree.  The reference to morality prompts an allusion to the Garden of Eden and encourages this
interpretation.
     The page is bordered on each side by white, marbled pillars .  These are, presumably, pillars of Truth standing above the limb of morality.  The pillars are capped at the top and bottom with dark gray stones, each with a human visage on its face.  These countenances are somber, if not pained.  This seems to state it is joyless virtue which holds the cold marble pillars of Truth.
 
 
 
 
 
 

    I do this now
    for love
    I've known
    yet could not give;

    For tears
    I've  cried
    for swallowed words
    and strangled hopes
    I do this now...
    for Sharon.
 
 
 
 
 

     This page is, again, in the blue cursive style and is an explanation of the pages which follow it.  It is the author's pain and lonliness that prompt him to share these thoughts with us.  Bordering both right and left sides of the script are depictions of people, (a man on the left and a woman on the right) represented in vague forms.  Both figures are white and tan in the center, but slope to a black point below the torso.  The figures form the heads of check marks, the tails of which form an arch above the poem as they intersect.
    The legs of the arch intersect with a geometric flourish, which is almost heart-shaped, but pointed at its upper corners.  The interior of this arch is a white field containing a colored flower blossom.  This, perhaps, represents the joining of the two bodies (as portrayed by the figures and the check marks) in true love (as shown by the blossom).
     This entire picture is on a background of a clear, blue sky, textured only by the high, misty clouds of a sunny day.  This sky is over a landscape of green, rolling hills with a small stream in the center of the page and trees at a distance on the right.  A solitary tree stands on the left in the foreground.
     The picture seems to be lighted from the arch and not by the sun, which is nowhere in sight.  The whole is done in watercolor.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

   Beyond the reach of

     rationale,
   in a distant realm
where phantoms reign,
   a battle waged;
     obscure.
 
 
 

     This poem is written in black, gothic script upon the pages of an opened book.  The book is on a desk which seems to protrude into an abstract picture.  The page is predominantly black except for a jagged strip of green color running down the right side of the page and several forms visible in the field of black.
     Most prominant among these is a blue hand, yellow in the palm, reaching from a white cloud toward a white star far above.  It represents a struggle carried on far within the abyss of an inner world described by the poem as ruled by phantoms.  Are these phantoms foreign or are they
phantoms of one's own consciousness?
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

    In the beginning

    all was darkness,

    no light enhanced,

    no shadows marred;

    no truth nor lies

    to hold or hide

    naught,

    but darkness-

    to embrace

    as it embraced all else.
 
 

     These words are written in the black, gothic style.  The words are upon a gray-ish cloud, a lightening of the blackness which frames this page.  Exceptions to this blackness are two ghost-white hands which reach from either side of the page toward the reader.  They seem to reach forth in a tender embrace as described in the poem.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

      This sovereign

of lost kingdoms,

       so great
      and yet so fragile

possessing all
      that wanders near

his creation's
      but a treasure tomb

once possessed
      all is lost.
 

     In this poem, we have the three voices confronting each other.  The black, gothic script authoritatively announces that Darkness is the sovereign of all lost kingdoms.  This statement elicits a remark of admiration from the blue, cursive script, "so great".  This is an interpretation of the illustration on which the poem is written.
    This illustration is a grassy field scarcely lit by filtered rays of sunlight.  A barely visible crowned male face gazes upon this scene from the upper left corner of the page.  Darkness seems to be, not only that which defines light, but that from which light emanates and that to which it will return.
     This assertion is immediately refuted by the red, angular script with the line, "and yet so fragile".  Fragile, the illustration shows, because the allowance of light into this realm violates the sovereignity of Darkness.  By defining light, Darkness relinguishes territory to it.  The blue, cursive script takes the next two lines stating that Darkness conquers all it meets.  The implication being that Darkness is not merely a contrast to light, but a separate entity which feeds on light.  The red script counters by comparing such a realm to a "treasure tomb".  Wealth buried with the dead does little good for anyone.  The black, gothic script takes the last two lines in which it states, once a thing is wholly possessed, absorbed within a host, it ceases to have an identity unto itself.
     With this in-depth discussion of identity, one wonders if we are actually discussing light and darkness or people.  Does this poem herald back to "I do this now...for Sharon"?  Perhaps what we have here is a description of an unhealthy relatiionship.  Partners fill each others needs physically, but each personality is too extreme to alter itself for commitment to a common unit.
     One personality is bright and the other gloomy.  The fear expressed is that the gloomy will overshadow, even permanently hinder the brighter personality.  Tyldsley cautions against total submission, for, once individuality is lost, all is lost.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

   That which we surrender not
   too soon is taken from us;
   a noble justice
      tortured in blood,
   a life of freedom
      consigned to void;
   the wisest sage
      become a child.
 
 

     This is another watercolor skyscape.  A pair of angels (painted with oilcolor), one to the left and one to the right, each on its own cloud, float above the words.  Each is pouring a bowl of what appears to be blood or wine.  The foreground lightens in a flowing manner, suggesting that the
reader may also be on a cloud.
     The first three lines are written in the black, gothic script.  They state a conclusion to a line of reasoning which is only alluded to in previous poems.  The inferred reasoning is that to possess something without sharing is to possess nothing.  The value of a thing lies inherently in the
act of giving it away.
     To exist only unto oneself is not to exist at all.  To exist without the recognition of others is, in effect, not unlike being a figment of one's own imagination. This point of view is not necessarily altruistic.  It is merely an extension of the principles of free enterprise. Principles of supply and demand which, because of advertising, the machinery of advertising and sometimes excessive opportunism, were in question by society in Tyldsley's later years, but very much a part of his early life. ²⁰
     A thing is valuable because other people want it. Something is powerful because people make it so.  If, as this voice seems to assert, reality is but a reflection of ideas and ideas are subject for their impact to the views of others, then all one truly possesses is one's own life. This leads us back to the hopelessness of autonomy and the realization that life itself will be taken from us.
     The blue, cursive voice nods its assent in the next brief line.  It calls the previous view just and noble.  If such is the way of the world, then one gains from those around him and likewise returns all that gain to the common pool of humanity.
     The red script rebuts this optimistic viewpoint by reminding the previous voice of both the bloody struggles of men seeking control of each other and the anguish of spending a life in futile battle against fate and mortality.
     The blue script responds that this is the struggle for freedom.  From such a struggle, one gains strength from which all benefit.  Freedom breeds originality and progress.
     Freedom breeds pariahs, answers the red script.  Free thinkers live on the fringe of society on mountain tops.  It takes generations to assimilate their ideas, a luxury a fast-moving world can ill afford.  Freedom means nothing until it is surrendered for commitment to an idea, a person or a thing. Action is taken by people committed to a purpose.
    The last two lines of the poem are by the black, gothic script and echo the first three lines.  The wisest sage becomes a child.  It is often said that the more one knows, the more questions one has yet to answer.  Materialistic wisdom is short lived, for new technology, senility and death are always on the horizon.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  Blessed are the ignorant;

for they know not what they do,

  nor what is done to them.
 
 
 

     This piece is written completely in the authoritative, black, gothic script.  The "B" is capitalized and extremely ornamented in the style of medieval illuminated manuscripts.  Similarly the entire page follows this motif.  The poem is in the center of a decorated column. The design is, for the most part, a multi-colored mosaic design upon an arch supported by vine-covered columns.  However, the design is interrupted by a venture into pop art in the center of the top of the arch.
     This brief statement seems to echo an oft quoted sentiment that ignorance is bliss and foreshadows the dialogue of the pages which follow. This page is a kind of link between the preceeding and following pages.  The meaning is that a total confrontation with reality without
an idealism to fall back on leaves one without the drive and inspiration to experience that reality to the fullest. Tyldsley apparently says one is better and more productive if one doesn't realize what is going on around him.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  Let not light intrude
  upon my world of darkness
  and corrupt
  visions to come
  with dreams
  gone by.
 
 

     A ghostly,  white globe hovers in the upper right corner of a black page.  This globe most probably represents the moon, which aside from its common representation of romance, can also represent the deception which often accompanies romance.  Given the content of the poem, this
latter interpretation is most likely.
     The poem appears on a misty gray cloud just below and to the left of the globe.  The script used is the blue, cursive character, inquisitive and optimistic.  Though not in appearance, in content this page is a close companion to the next page.
     The character of the script seems to be pleading with the confusing, often contradictory voices which invade his contemplation.  External voices, even if they are as true as they claim, cannot supplant individual integrity.  These voices are based on the past.  Even if they encompass
the motivations of the past, they are not the true voices of the future.  They are only clouding our main character's concentration.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  Preach not your words
  of wisdom
  upon my deaf ears,
  you interrupt the voice
  of the gods
  with the raving
  of the mad.
 
 
 

     At the center of this page is a tiny silhouette of a man holding up the sky to form an opening for this poem which, like the previous, is written in the blue, cursive style. The remainder of the page is blue, representing sky.  There are two clouds hovering above the man.  These clouds form human faces as they near the center of the page and look down upon the man.
     These clouds seem to be speaking to the man as is referenced in the poem by the line "you interrupt the voice of the gods".  Again, this page, like the one immediately before it, demonstrates this character's view of alternate reasoning as mere distraction and self evaluation is given divine status.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

   Let loose
  what is not thine:
   thy life,
  thy love,
  thy time.
   No tithe is due
  to compense thy birth.
   Thy will is but chaff;
  summoned by wind
  and taken to flight.
 
 
 
 

    This page, in both artistic appearance and literary content, is a companion to the page which immediately follows it.  Both pages consist of a watercolor landscape in which diverse patches of different varieties of grass mingle with sand, dirt and stone along a strand.  On this page, the water runs parallel to the writing and a tree (perhaps apple) is visible on a hill on the right side of the page.  This is, perhaps, significantly close to the word "birth".  Dandelions are also visible in the foreground.
     These may echo the sentiment voiced in the poem since they bloom brightly for a time, then their blossoms dry out and are blown away on the breeze.  Beige, human silhouettes, in miniature, interact with some of the letters in the poem, relating to the theme of the phrase they are
near.  The first silhouette is hanging by his arms from the "L" in "Let loose what is not Thine:", while the next figure does a pirouette on the colon.  A figure relaxes on the "N" of "No tithe is due" and another reclines with arms and legs spread over the word "birth".  The remaining figure is in mid-air after diving off the "g" in "flight".
     The first five lines are written in the red angular script, the protaganist voice.  This voice interjects that nothing is one's own and one is better to grow accustomed to that fact.  The black, gothic script takes the next two lines, saying that nature is not obligated toward one merely because of one's existence.  The individual must fend for himself.  The red, angular script has the remaining three lines.  It states man's will is but the chaff remaining after the necessities of one's existence have been harvested from life.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

What wilt thou do
 when the glass withholds
  thy visage
 and void returns thy gaze?
Man's cause has been his vanity;
  to tame this world
  and be its lord.

To mock, to mar,
 to rob its graves -
He comforts in destruction!
  It is well,
  for so must be
  his end.
 
 

    As has been stated, this page is a companion to the previous page.  It is also a watercolor landscape with beige, human silhouettes interacting with the letters of the poem. A grove of trees (probably apple) is on a hillside on the left side of the page.  The water flows behind this hill and
is seen at the right where it emerges at a 45 degree angle. Perhaps this is an allusion to the stream of life flowing a distance from the tree of knowledge.
     Of the human-like figures adorning this page, two figures seem to be in discussion as one stoops to face his partner who is sitting on the "a" of the "and" in "What wilt thou do when the glass withholds thy visage and void returns thy gaze?".  Another figure is pulling at the "d" in the
phrase, "to tame this world", as if he were the cause of its indentation.  The last figure stands, with head held high and an air of superiority, and leans against the "I" of "It is well,".
     The red angular script begins the page with the first four lines.  These lines pose a question arising from the statements of the previous page.  The blue voice is asked by the red just what he will believe when his temporal glory is belittled by eternity.  What does he do when the struggle is ended and he has but himself to face.  There is nothing there, the red script postulates.  Even the rational, black, gothic script observes that man has always sought to tame nature.  The red script states that to destroy nature is a more apt phrase.  Mankind enjoys destruction expounds the red script.  Then he will enjoy his own fate, states the black script.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  There once stood a man,
  Master of his world -
  But alas, he is no more,
  Though the world remains.
 

     This page is predominantly black.  It breaks, jaggedly, into a section of white in the center of the page, where the poem is written in the black, gothic script.  A white moon is drawn in the upper right-hand corner of the page.  In the lower left-hand corner, an elderly figure in a blue robe sits on a rock and contemplates his reflection in a puddle while he stirs it with a branch/cane which he holds in his right hand.
     Though some see this poem as a statement about the irrelevance of christianity in the modern world, (They interpret "a man" to mean Jesus Christ),  I think this is merely a restatement of sentiments already expressed in previous poems regarding the futility of man's existence.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  ...a dark forbidding place;
  yet the door
    to much beyond -
 
 
 

  beyond the reach
    of thine enervate soul.
  But, he who cannot
  seek the truth
  must surely have it thrust
    upon him.
 
 
 
 

    This page is predominantly white, with a large, window-like opening in the center.  A black-robed figure protrudes from the lower right of the window.  Its face cannot be seen, but a glimpse of red is visible at the front of its hood.  Inside the window is a dreary, watercolor landscape.  The sky is pink and, though it is textured, no actual clouds can be seen.  The sky, like the figure, protrudes slightly from the window to the right on the page.
    The ground is gray.  There are hills on the left and the scene is textured, but like the sky, there are no details.  A solitary, barren tree stands on the horizon to the right of center in the window.
     The black, gothic script writes the first line which is a continuation of the previous poem.  It seems to describe the scene before us as it states the world is a dark forbidding place.  Yet it is the passageway to anything beyond, replies the blue, cursive script.
    The poem does not impose itself on the window.  Rather the previous lines were at the top of the page and the remainder continues at the bottom, beneath the window.
     The red voice responds to the blue with the next two lines.  These say that such is beyond the reach of blue script.  The blue script answers with the last four lines.
    These lines state that Truth is unavoidable and must sooner or later be confronted by all, not just those who deem themselves worthy or unworthy of the privilege.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

      Truth:
       a light
   which leads to darkness;
      a prize
       to be sought
   yet never won.
 
 

     This page is a black and white graphic design.  Two checkerboard planes meet and form a horizon a bit above the center of the page.  Upon this, a winding, checkerboard strip makes it's way through the picture.  On this the script is imposed in the black gothic style.  The background
on which the poem directly lies lightens to add emphasis to the words.  An abstract geometric pattern of intersecting ovals lies on top of another pattern of intersecting triangles which floats above and to the right of the poem.
     The verse expounds the belief that it is the pursuit and not the acquisition of Truth that is beneficial to one's spiritual fulfillment.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

    Well it is
    to seek perfection,
    for such, I say,
    is truth.

    Empyreal perfection,
    beside -
     all is naught.
 
 
 
 

     This is another graphic design.  In this one, thin blue lines are used to visually texture the page.  A pinwheel interupts the texture of a haphazard arrangement of parallel, vertical lines.  This is imposed over a squared plane of horizontal parallel lines.  This, in turn, interrupts another pinwheel pattern.  Like the previous page, the representation of the graphic design is straightforward truth beside untruth; black and white, or, in this case, blue and white. Blue is used throughout this
work as a sign of optimism. Perhaps the characters in our play-like dialogue are getting more comfortable with the concept of ultimate Truth.
     The first four lines of the poem are written in the blue, cursive script.  They state that the author thinks it a good idea to seek truth, which it sees as the perfect cause of existence.  The remaining three lines are in the black, gothic script.  They respond that Truth is indeed the highest form of perfection.  In fact, the black script says, there is no existence outside of Truth, at least none of any worth. Our black script, once neutral, appears to be getting pompous over this matter.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  There was a day
   I walked behind myself;
  unable to surpass
   what I had been
    for too long.
 
 
 

     On this page are two planes of parellel lines, one horizontal and one vertical, meeting each other at a right angle.  There are six, smaller, multi-colored, triangular planes which occupy the major part of the illustration.
     The script is written above the triangles entirely in the blue voice.  The words seem unusually straightforward. The voice confesses, after speaking of the virtues of Truth, that one's body is not always quick to respond to one's ideals.  One's past is not easy to leave behind, be it good or bad.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

      Take me from this frigid place;
    this bode of ice and snow.
      I cannot bear its apathy
    nor face its frozen walls.

      With some bit of arrogance
    I say I must have more,
      more than stolid emptiness
    more than quiet cold.

      Take me from this frigid place;
      this place I call my heart.
 
 
 

     This page is almost completely black.  An expressionless, statue-like face is visible at the upper left of the page.  Also barely visible is a brown-cloaked figure at the lower right, facing away from the poem.
     The writing is in the blue, cursive script, highlighted with white.  The poem is a little above and to the right of center and covers most of the page.
     This poem continues the self evaluation and criticism which has haunted the previous pages.  This character finds that in his quest for Truth, his heart has become cold and undesirable even to himself.  I don't think Tyldsley is telling us that it must be so, but such are the dangers to which this script has succumbed.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  'Tis thy device
   devides thee so;
  'Tis by thy deeds
   thou art undone,
  Would'st thou feign keep
   what ne'er was thine?
 
 
 

     The illustration is a watercolor.  The sky is blue and is textured with high misty clouds, but there is no well-defined detail.  The land is rolling hills, but is barren. There is no vegetation on it and there are no stones and no water.  The earth is not even a yellow sand.  It is a brown dirt.
Far in the distance, a village sits in the valley.  Almost as far off is the gallows on a hilltop overlooking the village.  In the foreground is a lone, bare tree.  Beneath it sits a man.  He is dressed in brown and beside him is the black, hangman's hood.
     The poem, which hovers in the sky, is written in the red angular script.  The spelling of "devides" instead of "divides" in the second line is interesting.  I don't think it is merely to make the word appear more similar to the word "device", as has been the accepted interpretation.   I think this spelling is used to call to mind both the words "dev" (divine being in Hinduism and Buddhism) and "devil".  It is the moral conflict which I think the voice is pointing to as self-inflicted.  It is the blue voice's own values that cause him the agony described in the previous poem.  It is the deeds he commits of his own choice that lead to his downfall.
     The last two lines again bring up for discussion man's fleeting mortality.  Three ideas are represented by the hangman.  He represents the laws which the villagers have set down.  He represents the free will of people who will either obey or violate those laws.  Thirdly, he represents mortality, the end of a life which can never be owned, only borrowed.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

     For visions
are but dreams
which we believe
     and make our truths.

On mountains far
    we set our gaze
and fantasize
     a kinder fate.
 
 
 

     This is a watercolor fantasy skyscape.  The sky is blue with scattered clouds.  Two fairies are flying through the page.  A mountain is seen on one cloud, a blue castle on another and another becomes a face.  The poem is written in the black, gothic script and appears on the lower half
of the page.
    This poem equates revelation with fantasy.  Idealism is a placebo to aid one in coping with an indifferent universe.  As such, it is a consolation, not a cure, nor an excuse for mortality.  In this piece, we see the influence of Stephen Crane, whom Tyldsley greatly admired.  Did Tyldsley share Cranes nihilistic tendancies or was he merely paying homage to them?
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  Merciless fate
     you taunt me dear
  with ill reward
     for widened eyes.
 
 
 

     This page is a watercolor.  Most of the illustration is a blue sky, with the texture used throughout this text. (horizontal lines with a few specific clouds)  A grass field is in the immediate foreground with some brush on the right.  A vine of indiscernible type enters the page from the lower right and encircles the poem, which is written in the blue, cursive script.
    The blue voice complains that life has only been toying with him.  His eyes have been opened by his quest for Truth and he has seen only his own wretchedness and the futility of his mortality.  This, originally, optimstic character has been successfully turned against himself by the
other voices and can now easily be envisioned pulling his hair out.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  A  man hath naught
  but that he is;
  empty dreams
  and silent fantasies;
  prayers to a dead god
  who cannot answer.

  A  soul betrayed
  behind a masque;
  a tattered play
  without a script.
  where the mad perform
  before the lifeless.

  Who exist
  in but another's dreams.
 
 
 

     This page is beige with dark veins running through it. The impression is that of an aged, crumpled letter.  The poem is almost completely written in the black, gothic script except the last two lines which are in the red angular script.
     The first stanza reiterates the sentiment expressed earlier that a person's ideals are just dreams that person chooses to lend creedence to.  The universe is indifferent to a person's life.  Life's only meaning is one's solitary thoughts, for that is Truth.
     The second paragraph states that not only does one create their own destiny; one then hides it to act out a different part that one feels he should portray.  Again the universe is indifferent to this scenario.
     The finish of the poem states that even this higher ideal for which one performs is of his own devising or worse yet, of anothers devising.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

    There was a dream
    I dreamt last night;
    phantoms in the darkness
     bidding...
 
 
 
 

     This page is mostly white, with a predominantly blue multi-colored design rising from the bottom of the illustration.  A field of yellow swirls at the bottom of the page.  The overall impression being one of revolving, dream- like, confusion.
     The poem is written in the blue, cursive script.  This character is still hounded by inner voices, but seems to accept them more easily.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  ...Come unto the night.
 
 
 
 
 

     This page is a flat black with grainy spatterings of color (mostly yellow)  throughout the illustration.  A misty cloud of white lies behind the line, which is in the red, angular script.
     This is the final line of the previous poem.  The antagonistic voice implores the blue voice to relinquish his search  for light and explore the unknown, the darkness; the night.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

  ...and now I see
   this path I wander,
   though I feigned
   to wander free.
   I see these fences
   that surround me.
   and feel these fetters
   grip my flesh.
 
 
 

     This page is of a splotchy, yellow texture like that of the first poem in this series.  The script is the blue cursive.  The voice states that it realizes now, it was never free.  Whether bindings are imposed by others or by our own constricting values, they are as much a hindrance as fetters or fences.  This character seems to realize  the futility of his original quest for freedom outside his own being.  In this last poem he has resolved his inner conflict and, since he agrees with the other voices, there is no more animosity towards the other characters of existence.
 
 

A Tyldsley Anthology, edited by Mark Tearson, Grieg Press, London, 1970
 

"An Interview with Samuel Tyldsley", (magazine interview) Whitman Weekly; 1955, vol.8 no.16,
        pages 20-24, Danscomb co.
 

Beyond Mine Eyes, by Samuel Tyldsley, 1961 Jarvis Beauchemin, publisher, Dayton, Ohio
 

Contemporary Verse in America, by J.G. Stymen 1952 Brechman  Pub., pages 136-150
 

"Crane's Betrayal", (magazine article) by Samuel Tyldsley, Whitman Weekly, vol.1  no.38 page 36
        1948, Wesmore Publishing, New York.
 

Gilded Dreams, by Samuel Tyldsley, 1966 Hoeffmeir Publishing Co., New York
 

Ignoble Strife, (a prose pamphlet) by Samuel Tyldsley, 1952 Brookfield and Son,  Cleveland
 

In Morning's Light, (a play) by Samuel Tyldsley, 1963 Treaumin Publishers, Chicago
 

"Interview with Open Journal magazine", Jan. 1959 vol.9, no.1
 

Memories of Tomorrow, by Samuel Tyldsley, 1951 Stoncemeir Press, Philadelphia, PA
 

"Nights of Dreams, Days of Disenchantment", (serialized  magazine article) by Samuel Tyldsley,
        Writer's Notebook, vol.3 no. 8-12. 1949, Norskind Inc.
 

"On Artistic Independence", (magazine article) by Samuel Tyldsley, Artists'  Palate vol.7 no.10,
        page 16, 1953 Wesmore Publishing, New York
 

Out of Tune, by Samuel Tyldsley, 1950 Wilpman Books Inc., St. Louis
 

The Collected Tyldsley, edited by Jason Stark 1969, Hoeffmeir Press
 

The Complete Works of Samuel Tyldsley, by Alvin Greschler 1964 Write Now Publishing, San
        Francisco (1974 Hoemler Press, New York)
 

The Crime Of Passion, by Dolores Bourque (introduction by Tyldsley) 1956 Stoncemeir Press,
        Philadelphia, PA
 

The Tyldsley Journals, by H.F. Stoneham, 1971 Atwin Press, Newark
 

Today's American Poets, by David Bearn, 1963 Nemmit Press Ltd.  Chicago, chapter 17, pages
        103-127
 

Tyldsley: A Critical Study, by Linda Bach, 1972 Birchman Books  Ltd., New York
 

Tyldsley: A Life?, by Marie McVicker, 1973 Gerhnam Books, Rochester, New York
 

Tyldsley's Treasure, by S. Gradstone Jr. K.R.U. Press, Boston, 1970
 

Weeds and Flowers, by Samuel Tyldsley, 1955 Stoncemeir Press, Philadelphia, PA
 
 

       The music playing is the first movement, "Allegro Moderato" from Tchaikovsky's Concerto for Violin and Orchestra in D Major, Op.35.  It was found at  Jonathan Gurstelle's Midi Page .