Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Minimalism











Poem[1]



















[1] There is no such thing as a poem, but it is pure poetry
A nail, blood, virgin
Another haiku writer
Self crucifixion

Heart of Darkness

White
Black
Darkness
Gloom
A flash of green
Dim lights
Silver whistle
Beheaded love
Adorned stakes
Crucifixion
¿Who gets saved?
The Beauty
The Horror

Salt & Water

The dance of light and shadow
on my body on the great tear
There appears, it was, I forgot.
Salt and water to heal
open wounds oozing oblivion
abandonment
betrayal.
I am, I have been, I was
with water let me clean the memory.

Morbidity



































































annihilation

Projection

Fire and darkness, intertwining and falling on the wall. 
Film grain, scratches and glazes, noise and jumps, 
muted pastel colors in the lamp of the super 8.

The XXVII

there is where those Ducks fly
eternal summer
no ice but for your scotch
no Phonies to bear-
no winter souls.
rescue the Brother
get the Girl
never miss, 
never Miss,
never Forget.