#cubism
Can't you see
the dark side?
Bright like the moon
Consider the facts. Just
For the art of it.
What's in his style?
side by side by side
"Can't you see it"
Its a hexahedron
with an ism
How modern
is modern art?
This abstract form
forms from subtraction
"Today, the truth is
on display."
- Sandile
Aug 11, 2024
Aug 11, 2024 at 10:00 PM UTC
like pieces of a jigsaw
their faces were joined
interlocked in places
overlapping at others
like Picasso himself
had painted them
with linocut or oils
an imperfect portrait
harmoniously
asymmetrical
created by these two
fragmented profiles
lips interdependent
remaining in want
fulfilled for a moment
in this "their moment"
a cubist vision of beauty
not in appearance
or form necessarily
but in what it shows
Sep 21, 2023
Sep 21, 2023 at 1:04 PM UTC
Caught a moonbeam to Muskogee with a dark angel
Where it started, it's hard to know. Maybe I was a traveller
hitching a ride on an ideology maybe I was trying to find my space,
then she was there and we were sharing space
She was all anodyne and icicles with a presence magnetic and
manner so soothing,
she allowed me to forget
from where I had never
come
from
And from our first tryst
she was careful to explain that
it is never the shadow bringing the light.
This, of course, illuminated nothing
I was hooked, however, on her ominous banter
Lack of curves, and cubist edges
Hooked and ready for processing:
In her presence, I allowed myself to feel
That I was such a pretty thing
while she kept me under wing...
kept me as her play thing, and
this I allowed for much to long
With her I felt
but could not see
thus I paid the price for wading
into the shallow end of identity
We journeyed through the desert
for a thousand years while I satisfied
my thirst with a state of dementia and
was rewarded with emptiness for doing the time
This infatuation transformed my youth into
disenchanted wisdom and I finally understood that
It’s never the shadow that brings the light
Which for some reason, illuminated everything
Once you know that
you can find freedom in addiction,
wealth in poverty, purity in excess,
then step by step, ferociously
you can find peace
at the top of the mountain
while losing your identity
and finding your self
Mar 7, 2019
Mar 7, 2019 at 10:28 PM UTC
when rhymes start poppin'
and beats start flowin'
it's probably a sign
that it's time to get going
maybe just maybe even
((( CAUSE A COMMOTION )))
Now
is the time
where the hero-self
starts bubbling up
which is the time to start stepping
stepping out of prison
and into presence
You'll know cause
it be all
effervescing like:
pop, pop, pop
as you turn around, have a see
look up and down
at the old me
and let me confess
I don't like what I used to be
at the same time
we should also admit
that we love that man-boy too
cause he was me and he was you
You see:
he was an egocentric
and a pretender
who was never ever ever gonna be a contender
and let's realize
that to linger to long
is how our past pulls us out of song
:::
refuse to lose that ******
now turn front and centre
leg go
and just
trust, trust, trust
Getting wide awake on these energies?
Let's ride these waves (if you please)
<now flow effortlessly
through gross machinations
until energies fizzle
and bond to the enormity
of post-structural Western conformity>
I figure it's time
to unsettle debts:
Consternation? Plebiation? Colonization?
What about Subjugation?
:::: THE ONLY WAY OUT ::::
:::: SEEMS TO BE WITHIN ::::
What's wrong with the world today
is that we are sleepwalkin'
<through a lucid dream
of our own creation
while considering
life as profane>
Unfurl your flag
let the mystery free
rise up your fist and shout
Pleiades, Pleiades, I can hear you sing
It's time for us Humans
let's bring down that sweet thing
If you can't put your finger on what happens next
it goes something like this:
We've all been waiting for that
lighthouse bringer, that aetheric singer,
the someone who was willing to point the finger
we just didn't think it was going to be a ginger
Go back to sleep and when you awake
Maybe then you'll know
who's the medicine keeper
If you never learned nothing from Pablo Picasso
is that it ain't no fun being like a big *****
Just funnin' Pablo, don't take no offence
love it how you went swinging for fence
every time you woke up
to live in that moment
it's what you saw and
how you saw it
that makes me feel
~ raw, raw, raw ~
I tried to deconstruct your craft:
it deconstructed me
the only way out of that enigma
was to twist myself up into a new reality
And here
I am sitting
my flag unfurled
in my missed fortune
lost in-between
feeling unseen
A look in the mirror reveals a fractured self
a person separated from collective wealth:
Well forget this!
It Is Time For Health
Jul 28, 2020
Jul 28, 2020 at 10:36 PM UTC
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.
Aug 20, 2019
Aug 20, 2019 at 10:40 PM UTC
A cape on my back
And a trigger next to my index finger
I look around at the world
It is a hell on Earth
The trees in bloom, the water azure
The sky cloudless, orange and purple
I look like I'm from the future
Maybe I'm from the future
Or maybe I really did come from Saturn
Since this is all so alien to me
Take me back to where we were
Take me, Ra. Take me, Jhonn.
But I'm here. I see the world
The old building blocks
The ferris wheel moved by radiation
I look at the gun in my hands
It's matte black. Brand new, like me.
Brand new, like the blood from the body on the ground.
Maybe this never happened,
I say to myself questioning the audience.
I look at the cubes. They are all different colors.
Some explode. Some expand.
Some implode. I feel at home with those.
This feels safe.
The world I came to is different.
This world is not a rhapsody.
This world is made of skin.
There's another body inside.
Like mine, but pitch black.
It is my shadow.
Suddenly I am at home again.
I feel the shadow pulling the Earth apart.
I feel my face. I'm dusty.
I report to the Mars of the World.
They tell me to head back in.
I resign myself to fate.
I look in the mirror one last time.
I see a woman.
I'm content.
I get in my bed, as I did yesterday.
The night shortly falls over me.
I crawl into the void, as I live and breathe.
I wake up in the different place again.
I look in the mirror.
It's a dusty, white face of no expression.
I put the cape back on and leave.
As I leave the zone beyond time, I remember again.
It is time to find something of value.
**** the objective.
I hear knocking on the door.
I open it. It's the courier.
"Welcome back."
"Thank you."
"Are you ready?"
We leave for the yellow zones.
But I'm tired of the courier.
As the bullet exits his brain, I feel free.
So does his blood.
The desert around us stares at me.
The cubes cry out.
I'm in the green zone. I'm looking for the child.
He greets me with a smile.
"You have realized!"
"I am finally back.
I have killed the ones holding me back."
"Welcome back to reality. I love you, Mother."
The industrial zone around us starts feeling distorted.
The cubes lose their shapes and scream.
My son grabs my legs tight.
The trees are all dead. The sky is gray.
The water runs green, with purple bubbles.
I missed Saturn.
Apr 12, 2019
Apr 12, 2019 at 3:31 AM UTC
At any given time &
period how many
women are involved
in the *** industry?
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 3:39 PM UTC
Cubism an ugly distortion, criticised in comparison to fine art. Look at those shameful, jagged and unpolished edges. But no, change your perspective. These deviations are the very building blocks that allow us to tower over those who once marginalised difference. Those who rejected the ‘other’, for fear of refracting their own reflections in the opposition. Inevitably they’re left face to face with the ‘ugly’ perceived in here.
Jan 7, 2019
Jan 7, 2019 at 7:41 PM UTC
SO much depends upon a red wheel barrow
So MUCH depends upon a red wheelbarrow
So much DEPENDS upon a red wheelbarrow
So much depends UPON a red wheelbarrow
So much depends upon A red wheelbarrow
So much depends upon a RED wheel barrow
So much depends upon a red WHEEL barrow
So much depends upon a red wheel BARROW
Dec 20, 2018
Dec 20, 2018 at 9:40 PM UTC
I am thinking of Nicole's
eyes, two or three or five
Aug 17, 2018
Aug 17, 2018 at 2:18 AM UTC
Of thee, my queen of stinky toes;
ur feminine perfumes surround me;
ur red perfume meanders through
my nostrils like day and flowers;
I will drink all ur sweet and bitter
nectar; look and do not deny urself
to your prophet, squire, thirst for
thirst, and you will drink of me in
the gilded brook of the joyful dance
O to ur exquisitely stinky feet; woman's
heady perfume surrounds me; ur red
perfume smashes through my nostrils
like heaven and flowers; I will drink all
your sweet and bitter dew; look, don't
deny your prophet, nostalgia, thirst for
thirst, you will drink of me
of the gilded stream of joyful dancing
ur exquisite smelly feet; Woman's perfume
surrounding me like red petals crushed
to my nostrils like the sky and flowers;
I will drink all ur sweet and bitter dew;
Look, don’t deny ur prophet, Your memory,
ur thirst for understanding thirst, you
will drink w/ me with a happy golden dance
Exquisite smelly feet; Woman's perfume
surrounds me; ur red perfume is crushed
in my nostrils like the sky and flowers;
I will drink all ur sweet and bitter dew;
Look, don’t deny ur prophet,
ur memory, eager to understand
the longing for longing, drink of me
longingly in gold-plated happiness
The woman's stench and delicate feet,
the woman's perfume revolves around
me, ur red perfume is pressed against
my nostrils like the sky and flowers, I
will drink all ur sweet and bitter dew,
see, do not deny ur prophet, ur memory,
longing to understand nostalgic desires,
you will drink w/ me in a cheerful dance
The woman's stench and delicate feet,
the woman's perfume swirled around me,
ur red soles pressed against my nostrils,
I breathe u in like the sky and flowers,
I would drink all your sweet and bitter dew,
see, do not deny you Prophet, ur memory
to understand nostalgic desires,
you will have a cheerful golden dance
The stench of a woman and her thin legs,
the perfume of a woman swirling around
me, ur red spirits snuggled against my
nostrils, like the sky and flowers, I would
drink all your sweet and bitter dew, do
not deprive urself of the Prophet, ur
memories of nostalgic desires, you will
be a joyful dancer made of golden light
A woman and her thin thighs,
the fragrance of a woman revolving
around me, ur red soul blazes
against my nose, like the sky and
the flowers, I will drink all ur sweet
and bitter dew & like rare wine
you do not depreciate w/ the memory
of ur sadness's desires, you will
be a prosperous golden dancer
That a woman and her skinny
thighs wrapped in the perfume
of my wife; despite our soul's
sadness, we will be successful
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 7:05 PM UTC
Thunder… then lightning,
feverish caress of musky notes,
****** scent of loving irony
to curiously tempt each edge
of such a fractionated cubism.
Tiny desert rose, ready
to dilate all its farthest dusty ravines
just to feel its lymph racing out of bounds.
Hot water runs down on me,
raw and bitter into my mouth,
a taunting sadism
for better wince, essentially
in a universe that is not there.
Painted glow of cynic nocturnes,
diluted to loss,
watered down to dawn.
Apr 10, 2016
Apr 10, 2016 at 10:43 AM UTC
Crafted like a diamond
with the hands of the greats
Van Gough, Da Vinci
put together like Cubism
with the vision of Picasso
A mind like Shakespeare, Dickens
Intelligent like Artificial Intelligence
Envisioned by God
A perfect being
and made into the best, the most perfect person
Made by perfection into perfection
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 2:37 PM UTC