Long Atelier Poems

          Corpus

                     in words 
designs 
...

Read More

                Connections, how are they made?
Perceptions waved in radio, station identification 
made, declared, paved.
Frequency paired by molecules in fertile atmosphere.
Staging...

Read More

         She is a masterpiece of wild contradiction, 
fuse blown by a wick, of litmus tongue in your senses-
her moods shifting chameleonic shades everything at once
in candle...

Read More

chipping and hacking
sawing and sanding 
this is the life of a creator 
these are his sounds
a cacophony of hustle and bustle 
a primal link to the past and an eye on the future
ever striving for...

Read More

Nascent thought provoking
threads flit to and fro
unseen solitary pinball wizard
cavalierly fiddles indiscriminately
leveraging outcome

silently holistic thought fragments
strewn staccoto scattershot
attenuated blitzkrieg
brain storm saturates,
par for course sandtrap engulfs,

chaos reverberates within
besieged cerebral corridor,
quotidian mental onslaught
spurns refugee exodus,
psychological ploy asper...

Read More

I ogled through the open Atelier,
  And chance into a spacious grotto,
  Wanting to carry out an exploration of voodoo kingdom,
  I made a pact with my kinetic limbs,
  On they...

Read More

Sur les mêmes toiles, peindre les sentiments de souvenir.
Sous d'autres cieux, semer les espoirs d'avenir.
Quels que soient les environs, quel que soit le chemin,
On te voit toujours tendant sans discrimination la main,
Aux élèves dans l'aisance...

Read More

Man Rape

In the charming town of Mertola
there was a painter, a pleasant little man
who painted flowers and tree and augmented
his living by teaching foreigner Portuguese.
A man came wanted to buy a painting, the painter
was glad...

Read More

With no place to hide, the atelier of this poet, abides. Ticking of fires cooling can be heard, the rise and fall of virus eating man's soul.

Rage has sucked the oxygen of all but those...

Read More

I was upstairs,
looking around in some stranger’s workshop,
I didn’t see him on the way up.

I saw the coordinated lines of artistry
which appeared to me as mere chaos.

Is that what she means?
Is she trying to be...

Read More

I behold what I have created,
immaculate but yet not true,
a celestial conceptualization created by the chiseling edges of my fended anima.
Your image does not belong to you, but is simply carried by the many. As...

Read More