Gardens of War (april 2006)

Bells ring out,
through the gray and orange sky, where the air holds some sort of weight, some sense of itself, of its fragrance and feelings. And this sorted day displays a peculiar glow for the ramparts below are arranged and have the desire for entangling. Strange it is that such waved nonsense like cloth carries symbols for rejoicing, but stranger that such could bring brothers to struggle for rubble replacing…
Such it is that buildings fall once standing triumphant, replaced by weeds and roots as our mother comes a calling. And with ease she takes the toys from boys who cause commotion
Leaving flowers in the rubble to remind us of a higher form of devotion.


(((((was looking through pictures of war torn cities... a lot of them have trees and branches poking through the walls and windows... as if the moment the building is hit, it gives way to nature... certainly no one cares about the building anymore so it is allowed to go to waste... but beautiful things pop up...
hmmmm turkey is kind of like that... popped up from the fall of the ottomans...anyway... yeah)))))

untitled (eating disorders) (spring 2006)

I question her motives…
Do you give up pieces of yourself
To feed the starving tummies?
To reach some sort of balance
In the world?
To throw off shackles?
To make space for others?
To find yourself?
Find God?
The meaning of life?

Do you give yourself
So unquestioning
To provide?
To create?
For justice?
To truly live?

She replies…
To fit in these jeans
To fit in
To feel comfortable
To be confident
Beautiful
To not HATE myself!

To do this…
She starves
Takes from herself – the
Ability to succeed, leeches
The beauty from her cheeks,
Hips, arms, legs, stomach,
Chokes the breath
Rips it away from her brain –her organs

She bleeds, while not bleeding
She leaves us, while claiming
Shes not leaving


((((((this will be a painting... some of you have seen the draft... im sorry if this offends... i was writing to my parents about this issue recently... actually about me and this issue, about my own personal struggles... and i realized that this poem... written in a few moments of extreme frustration was in a lot of ways showing my own struggle. I always claimed that I was fasting.. a sort of spiritual stuggle to overcome the body's needs (and i still think this way) but it doesnt explain the feelings when i look in the mirror, my disgust at stepping on scales etc... and though most of this is changing or has left in a lot of ways because of my interactions with other's problems... its interesting that i dont contrast healthy thoughts with "disordered thoughts" but rather these pseudo "rationalized" motives i used to use for the same exact purpose (to lose weight)--as if they are so much better... as if that would make it ok.
Anyway in my letter to my parents I tried to explain how confused i used to get... in spiritual quests.... how i always wanted to be loved and be a great person... and a part of this was to be free of needs... but part of this meant being attractive....

anyway i would like to apologize to those who's motives i criticize... but i still think this is an interesting poem/picture...)))))

untitled intro (spring 2006)

And so he speaks,
Unsure of the words from his mouth
Like pollen,
To give birth, create,
Or hurt, agitate.

Speak easy-slow and comfortable
Rack your brain for
A free flowing
Rain

To invigorate, excite, give life
Drop drip drop
Drop drip drop
Love live love
Drop drip drop

And in the dance
When your body moves without you
Open your eyes -share it with your partner


(((this is the opening to my art book... just nervousness, hoping to make something worthwhile... the problem is its so small.. and im worried about painting in there, but so far got some good pictures poems and quotes...))))

no photo (april 2006)

-as if to capture this moment
this movement
were a CAPITAL CRIME,
a sublime TRANSGRESSION
but such impressions
only last moments though
and when we forget
without haste they remind
and in haste they define -these simple rules

rules
rarely changing –never allowing the changes to be
broadcast
as if fighting time’s sublime alterations

alternatively
they ask-without moments notice
and with high hopes
expectations
for those rare and beautiful items

and so we are forced to recognize that like “currency” or “precious metals”
they withhold –so as not to DEVALUE
but if they believed in the truth of TRUE BEAUTY…. They would know

A SMILE IS WORTH MUCH MORE THAN GOLD.


((((((there was this photo of a sign that read "no photo" tied up in barbed wire... i think a war picture... but i put it in my art book and decided that i would write about that concept... that denial... and i use to do it too.
that one verse is about how often people who dont let me take pictures of them ask for pics later... anyway... whatever. no photo... written in a park in istanbul))))))

Communal Kitchen 20:45 Madrid Espana (feb 2006)

The representatives gather
Displaying common
Instinctual
Individual…. Desires
Each assigned their place, their nation, their role
They stand… and dance
Cooking
Communally displaying their talents
A different language
Alien ingredients
A pinch of tengo
A dab of salsa
A teaspoon of polka

And we whirl around
The gestures impromptu
The colors
And smells
Of estrangement

What is my dance, my flag, my quisine?
The French eat Italian -and become the EU
Americans eat tortillas and the Americas unite
Japanese eat European food and Eurasia is reborn

Continents come together in the kitchen
Communal dancing
Community of life.


(((((((this was based on the actual event in madrid... watching as nationalities melt away in the kitchen... still its funny... backpackers call eachother by locations not names... whats my flag? does it matter when i recognize the humanness of it all?)))))))