a slice of life
Photography
Poetry
Some recent works
Debris
From nothing
A swirl of vacuum forms
Something here, it seems but
The dust within the swirl gains
momentum, pulling in more dust,
Leaves, and even insects and such
That are in the way of its whirlwind,
Generating, sprouting upward — lifted
Into a conical cosmic-like rotation
Kind of comical from my view,
This small, haphazard galaxy
Fed on the world's remains
Mimicking the birth of
A nebula in a furious,
Brief spin, a universe
Of refuse, nothing
Yet, aspiring to
The sky before
Losing all its
Momentum,
Flailing,
Gone.
Picasso’s “Guernica”
The subjects were visages of fragments
From his perspective, eyes hanging on the stroke
of a pigment or the back of a head just as good
as the front, but I suppose a viewpoint is a point
to be made — a triangular ray of light spanning
from a light bulb, reaching out to a mother with her
dead baby or a bull’s head or a horse in horror,
these expressions that can’t be expressed in words
no hope is alive, but deadened by
an orchestra of catastrophe,
flames against the night,
a hand holding a candle
cradling two worlds —
for the painter and us,
this broken art.