Texts/Poems

Floating dreams II

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March 19 2017 – 3 images in this slideshow (requires JavaScript).

Some dreams are meant to be and some aren’t. Some of them are just floating around, searching for another dream, because some dreams need to be connected to other dreams so they can become real. (MEH)

The world is blue

November 28 2016 – From my iPhone 5s archive. Today I received another poem from my friend José and I hope you’ll enjoy the reading;

The world is grey

without the color

of your terrified fate.

The world is blue

without the informal shapes

of the Earth in you.

No world can resist

more and more methane,

this broken atmosphere

in which no-one insists,

so let it flow…

Yet no more white

in that useful snow

up their nose,

up ours,

down mine…

And the world is now inconvenient,

no human being believes anymore

in that old-fashioned concept of resilience:

C’mon, let it die!

Die indeed

in your arms,

always free,

never adored,

sometimes your god

sometimes theirs.

Besides, remind me that

the world is grey

and blue,

and whiteness has just been massacred

by the persistent guns

of everyone’s

infantile disdain.

(© José)

Tree of life

June 11 2016 – Chief T. iPhone 5s.

You stand there waiting
patiently and become one with the tree.

You stand there waiting equally patiently
as the tree itself.

You stand there waiting
and you’ve got all the time in the world. (MEH)

Mortal souls

May 2 2016 – Self portraits from May 2. iPhone 5s, self timer.

Yesterday I received another poem from my friend José, he was inspired by my work and I have to publish his poem. I hope you’ll enjoy the reading;

Headless gentrification

No, it is not our loneliness,

whether they don’t mind

or even give a whole load of shite…

What is a word

a syllable, or even a sound

in the minds of those who

never listen

to the music

of their own created lies?

Is it me, babes?

Listen!

A warm gun.

Is it poetry?

Really?

How many shags, mate

for a couple of stupid verses,

for just a few ink,

for your fast descent

into this sublime submission

into alcoholism?

Detention time,

that pigheaded Head said,

and you decided

on the verge of that midday

to write the truth

on the walls of his office:

Head is a wanker!

Cut it off!

Now it is not long

since you have already gone,

back to the obscure caves

of your lack

of human understanding.

Insect-like,

still life,

creepy-crawlies

moving in circles

inside your empty stomachs:

exit ahead,

no mercy instead…

They are mortal souls

and you are not,

dismiss

the pressure you feel

after another century,

after having survived

hundreds of friends,

millions of foes.

hands dirty

choreography

of disdain:

new worlds

captivated

by old perfumes,

the aromas of neverland,

ahoy, sinners, no pirate underneath!!

And now

the Earth can go

fuck itself!

No Sun above,

life has gone.

Do not pray

anymore.

(© José)

April 15

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April 15 2016 – 2 images in this slideshow (requires JavaScript). iPhone 5s.

Sometimes you’re watching everything from above and everything seems more clear, but when you’re watching everything from the inside everything seems more complicated. (MEH)