When the rhymes start poppin' and the beats start flowin' it's probably a sign that it's time to get going and maybe just maybe even
((( CAUSE A COMMOTION )))
Now is the time where the hero-self starts bubbling up its a time to start stepping stepping into the presence stepping out of the prison and into heaven. Cause it be all effervescing like: pop, pop, pop
then I turn around to have a see and as I am looking up and down at the old me, well I gotta confess
I don't like what I used to be while at the same time I've got to admit I love that man-boy too cause he was me and he was you
You see, I was an egocentric and a pretender who was never ever ever gonna be a contender when I realize that if I linger to long it's my past that pulls me out of song and I refuse to be losing ****** so let's turn back to front and centre leg go and just trust, trust, trust
I am getting wide awake on these energies gonna ride these waves if you please unless my trust is misplaced in post-modernity
I figure it's time that I unsettle my debts from my colonization, my plebiation, and my consternation.
The only way out seemed to be within.
Cause what's wrong with the world might be what is within
So unfurled my flag let the mystery free raised my fist and shouted Pleiades, Pleiades, let me hear you sing It's time for us Man lets bring down that sweet thing
I can't put my finger on what happened next We've all been waiting for that lighthouse bringer, that aetheric singer, someone who was willing to point that finger I just didn't think it was going to be a ginger.
Then I fell asleep and when I awoke who was I but a medicine keeper
If I ever learned nothing from Pablo Piccaso is that it ain't no fun living like a big *******
Just funnin' Pablo, don't take no offence I love it how you went swinging for fence every time you woke up to live in the moment but it's what you saw and how you saw it that makes me feel - raw, raw, raw -
As I tried to deconstruct your craft it deconstructed me and the only way out of the enigma was to twist myself up into a new reality
So there I was sitting my flag unfurled in my missed fortune lost in-between feeling unseen
A look in the mirror revealed a fractured self a person separated from his wealth so I said **** this and went looking for health.
There is a melody that sings, of a dream lost in time, with music that fits the space that can’t be filled. She is as real to you, as the wood in your hands and at night, beyond the timbre of your guitar that murmurs melodies about a world too many understand. What once was elegant boulevards in Madrid, are now a melodic strain of fleeting moments, trapped in colorless discontent.
This is an attempt at ekphrastic poetry, which I based of the X-ray version of 'The Old Guitarist" by Pablo Picasso. I highly suggest looking up this image, as it speaks differently than the one that is commonly known, and it may make the poem easier to understand.
Along the grass,beneath the sky The draconic sun vitrified The lover figurines. Flattening them Adjacent to the surface, Skin blent in crackly tessellation, Deforming to fit the sphere,adhering to it's Wondrous silence. Frail limbs minute,heart's heavy as whole islands.
Is it not love embodied to lay defined as an image? To be held as shatterless glass,reflecting it's deity's melting In progress, 'neath the star that impelled a shelter, The star that paved their meeting,that overlooked Their life and death in a predetermined stasis, The divinity that shimmered underfoot at all times, The star that held all places of the earth in one.
The figurine lovers, faceless mannikinis Sentenced to worship forever without a choice, For prior love, for prior sins, It matters not--they rot and twist as the Sun's play-dice.
The paintings! The rain has destroyed the art. The colors drip like blood from the canvas, The shapes mix together and blur with the meaning. No one could plan this. The memories! The shame has broken the heart. My honesty crumbles each time I’m reminded, Their brush strokes fade under new ones, Like no one minded.
PICASSO where do you draw the line! disjointed reasons etched across my mind a proverbial t hou ght o n hinge what say you my man - so abstract! rejoicing voices love s hare s bisecting angels and pleasure di verge across p o in ts a fissure in creativity moves! you c r a w l e d out punching real ity in the jaw
shattering concepts -- creating new law!
:: - ::
Lovely art. Surrealism and abstraction are best for me. Realism is the thing outside the window.
Introducing Picasso and Nunez aka ANu Picasso a pair of L.A. poets and painters coming to a gallery near you.
Our first big gig will be at the Nuetra Gallery and Museum on Glendale Blvd. in Silver Lake coming up in September.
Come check out East and West Balanced, it will surely be an art show you'll always remember.
Curated and coordinated by the one and only, Dulce Stein, Dulcepalloza 2018 guarantees a good time.
Just another ditty on who we are, this is a poem my partner Picasso put out:
He is the torch I am the white He is the dark I am the light We don't impress to be blessed. We're blessed to impress Hate us or love us But don't love to hate us We're the Ying and the Yang of this Earth Both with the same day of birth He is the east and I am the west But together we're simply the best.
You are all cordially invited to the Neutra Museum and Gallery in Silver Lake, CA for our first big show at Dulcepalloza 2018. Exact dates will be posted in subsequent poem. Follow or stay tuned for details