Posted in Architecture & Design, Art Scene, Books, Current Affairs, Film, Literature, Memoirs, Philosophy, Poetry, Politics, Relationships, Science, Social Commentary, Society, Technology, tagged acrobatics, almost, alternate, architect, architecture, arrangement, assembly, balance, balustrade, bear, bed, block, bond, boulder, boxes, build, building, cabinet, cable, cantilever, carpenter, carpet, cement, chair, chandelier, clasp, coats, concrete, conversation, cure, curtains, deadline, deck, decorator, design, doors, drafting table, draftsman, drain, dreams, ducting, edifice, envision, expectation, extension, falling, fern, fingers, first, fix, floor, fog, forward, foundation, fountain, frames, framework, Frank Lloyd Wright, fresh, genius, grand, granite, graphite, grass, green, hammer, hand, hang, hard, hear, here, hewn, hours, installation, intellectual, justify, landscaper, lap, layer, laying, lifeless, little, location, mad, masons, masses, measure, miles, mimic, mind, mirror, mix, modern, morning, nail, natural, near, network, newlly, outward, painter, painting, paper, patch, patina, pencil, pieces, pipe, plant, plaster, poem, poetry, polished, push, reach, reality, resemblance, resistance, rock, rolls, roof, sand, saying, scale, set-up, sets, shelves, shrubs, sills, sinews, sit, skeleton, slab, slate, somebody, stair, stirrup, stretch, suclpture, summon, swab, symbiosis, symbol, table, themselves, thrust, ties, tight, tree, utopia, vase, veins, vellum, vine, wallpaper, walls, water, waterfall, waterline, weight, wet, windows, wooden, world on January 6, 2012|
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Frank Lloyd Wright
and his falling water. Masses
of concrete cantilevered,
and extending outwards
like hands reaching- symbiosis.
But I’m no Frank
and dreams might be
my little fingers clasping
hard and pushing pencils
for somebody else’s utopia.
The hewn boulders of rock
resisting the foundation
on which this grand design sits,
I bear the weight of expectations.
Balancing upon the scales
on which the measure of cement
is mixed in sand and water.
The lapping over of slates into a bond.
The forward thrust of hammer to nails.
The tightening of ties around stirrups.
The alternate laying of the roof decking.
And the network of drain pipes,
cables and ducting, and waterlines
resembling the veins and sinews
of the building’s skeleton. I build
a symbol- the framework of the mind.
The genius envisions an edifice
in his intellectual acrobatics,
justifying to the world the modern-
reality that build themselves on paper.
Summoning the masons to lay
its plaster to newly cured blocks.
The painter to swab the walls
in fresh coats. The decorator
sets the chairs, the beds,
the mirrors and the tables.
The vases and layers of curtains.
The lifeless sculpture pieces
and paintings hanged to the walls.
Fixing rolls of wallpaper and carpets
over polished granite floors.
The carpenter assembling
cabinet boxes, ledges and shelves.
The windows fitted to the sills.
And the doors hanged on frames.
The location of the chandelier.
Installing wooden slabs on stairs.
The green patinated balustrades.
The landscaper to plant shrubs, and ferns
and vines and trees and patch of grass.
The water fountains and the waterfall
arranged mimicking a natural set-up.
But I ‘m no Frank.
The hours stretched for miles and miles.
The drafting table becoming wet with fog
until the first hours of the morning.
I can hear the mad conversations
of the vellum and the graphite saying,
“deadline nears, it’s almost here”.
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They Are Silent
Posted in Books, Current Affairs, Film, Literature, Philosophy, Poetry, Politics, Relationships, Religion, Social Commentary, Society, tagged actual, applause, audience, bait, beans, beehive, bees, bite, blind, cast, circus, clasp, coal, corners, deceit, disguise, double, doves, ears, edges, excuse, eyes, fish, fishy, fly, gossip run, gullible, hard, hear, heavy, honey, hook, ignorance, illusuion, imagine, incensed hot, innards, judgment, laceration, like, line, magician, mockery, mouth, naivete, One, open, over, overflow, phantom, pillars break, poem, poetry, puppets, ready, ripe, scream, see, shadow, sharp, show, silent, sorts, sound, spill, statues, sting, stones, stop, sword, talking, tangle, things, thrown, tongues, trick, truth, under, victims, weight, whistle, white, wish, words, worship on July 13, 2013| Leave a Comment »
They are silent, yes, they are silent.
I imagine them talking on corners
sounding like the bees ready to sting.
And the beehive is ripe and heavy
with gossip running over like honey.
The audience, they lined up like stones-
incensed hot coals ready to be casted
and thrown at statues and pillars
breaking under the weight of judgment.
They are silent, yes, they are silent.
A mockery of sorts, they like the show.
Shadow puppets will scream and whistle.
They are victims to a phantom in a circus
and worship the magician with words.
I wish the sword will tangle with tongues,
lacerate the innards and spill the beans.
I wish the fish will bite the bait
and see the hook clasp hard the mouth
to stop fishy things from overflowing.
They are silent, yes, they are silent.
The blind is not actually blind
but open eyes would like to see illusions.
They have ears but do not want to hear
truth as sharp at its double edges.
Applause will fly like white doves
for the trick and the disguise deceives
the gullible and naivete. Silent ones
whose ignorance excuses no one.
They are silent, yes, they are silent.
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