Words made of pictures
Romulo Macció, 1951
Distortions: the TV a mirror, a work of art marked tragicomedy. Sad laughter in grayscale made color. Swirling pink pupils the shape of square portals; what we see is so fantasy escape––enough to keep our gaze mesmerized into inaction.
Antonio Henrique Amaral, Sozhino en Verde 1973
Bound banana not yet ripe; you a crowning yellow body born to dingy cells, drained of life. The hollowed out skin that sheds its wrinkled shell is hung by braided rope, hanging lifeless in hope for you. Your birth peeling back the pain in spite of everything. You and your promise won’t be directed by strings pulled.
Julio Alpuy, The Earth 1963
To be is to gaze upward and inside, the sky as ancient as our buried bones, which are kept safe, deep inside the earth. Our bodies which teem with the unknown possibility of hidden futures; these futures are filled by our dreams as we lay to face the stars. Our crescent moon fills our life with becoming.
Leo Limón, Hummingbird Spirit
Colibri, does your beating heart hurt when your wings transcend the way we perceive, or do you like the quickening hovering, moving to stand still in flight?
Quinde the wind protects you from capture in a way that the ocean’s waves couldn’t stop what happened to our conquered shores. At least your life, however exhausted, is liberated.
Charmion von Wiegand, Offering to the Adi-Buddha, Amoghasiddha
I like sitting in your shapes and colors, shapes and shadows––shapes forming a prism, capturing a halo of light.
