How is incoherence
a name
for actual – wordlessness
segments
lack of coherence
there cannot be five consecutive sentences with meaning
deserted
memory and chaos
together
the world
is burning
language is boiling
the air
in which we speak
is tired
of another
prediction.
By the proximity
of endless spirals
spiraling dimensions
firmly situated in front
of the faces and worries
as if by magic
but magic so fiercely unwanted
it is looked upon as
ordinary occurrences
so without objection
the red flame of wine
sinks and stays at the bottom
encapsulated by the glass
yet its fire is irrepressible
too powerful minuteness
seeded in all things that
transform us
magic, unheeded magic
magical cores burdened – with reality
together with the ungraspable circumstance
of happiness
containing not identifiable things
rather emerging like a gigantic bubble
at the center of a monotonous lake
more and more is given
more and more resides
I extend my grasp to any one spiral
to the suddenness of it all
there are magical births here
trembling with infinite abundance.
Here’s the latest, an almost-human barely animal creature.
For real good art visit: Modern Art Paintings
Limitations to discourse and knowledge.
The undeniable reality of language,
the sounds inside our heads,
the discourse within our skulls,
the rigorous mathematics of our technologies,
is a matter of great uncertainty.
The fact that we rely so deeply in the functions of language
seriously undermines our attempts
at concrete knowledge.
The discovery that knowledge is portrayed by language
or symbols
and that linguistic symbols are inappropriately
capable of representing perceived reality
is an astounding obstacle to our assessment
In more simple and human terms,
the realization that we obtain “acceptable” knowledge
in any form by its communication
either by mathematical symbol or linguistic form,
already makes it clear that we are submitting ourselves
This norm is adopted,
valued
and protected
by the establishment,
namely,
Science,
but once this establishment is submitted to the scrutiny of doubt,
we realize that Science or concrete, irrefutable knowledge
depends, and in fact,
survives on language and symbol,
thus we can begin doubting the certainty
and accuracy of its claims.
The first undeniable doubt is the perception
of the incapacity of language
or any symbol
of portraying reality.
Language is by its own nature, rigid, stiff and linear.
No matter how prodigious the scientist
or philosopher is,
the fact that he or she describes reality
by communicating a symbol,
already contributes to our suspicion:
the use of a rigid tool (language) to describe
The proof that language is inadequate to describe accurately reality
is in no way possible of being proved by language itself.
It must be realized, perceived, experienced by the thinker.
Just as Science seems to be the absolute truth to the world today,
we must never forget that Science is not an entity by itself;
Any human, no matter how committed to objectivity,
will still be influenced by subjective impulses, personal past experiences
Science has by this account two main weaknesses.
It utilizes linguistic symbol to portray an un-symbolic phenomenon;
Al fin llegó el día
todo se había logrado
trabajar, enlazar
proyectar y desesperanzar
eran cosas del pasado
llegó el día
que de alguna forma
había buscado toda mi vida
pero también
lo temía
era ese momento cuando
no había nada más que perseguir
todo lo que quería se había concretado
fue en ese entonces
cuando un silencio invadió
mis entrañas
como una neblina que cae entre edificios
sin avisarle a nadie
era un silencio y una calma
que me permitía permanecer acostado
el tiempo y las mareas perdieron relevancia
era como si la muerte se acercara lentamente
irrevocablemente
y no quería lamentar ni llorar
simplemente
esperar
acostado lo que fuese que llegara
aunque sea dulcemente la muerte
o el tejido de cien años más.
That I must
never
be read
will be clear
from the vacuous
vocabulary
I must borrow from
and still
there are memories
or phantoms
of an uncertain past
the magic bricks
I thought I could
move with one
finger
the trees that watched
my infant
nothingness
I must never be read
my life is already
buried by dust
there are braver men
out there…
with fear
the embodiment
of disaster
that I call
“breathing”
is not
of any use…
there will be
peaceful silence
when this and other
poems
are no more…
they can’t surface
but sink
drop,
deeply,
disappear.
Stop.
Please stop.
Leave whatever you are doing right now,
and do me a favor.
Look out outside your window
(I truly hope you have a window)
to some small gilded leaf in the sun.
Stare at it,
there’s nothing romantic,
poetic or beautiful
about that leaf.
It is just there
motionless or
swinging with the wind
it is just there
almost too fragile
almost too irrelevant
but it is there.
It is drunk with something
it has something we don’t.
It is not brighter or duller than us
but it has more depth
than our little lives.
I was reading a poem by Bukowski
It is called “jam”
I read a few lines, pondered
watched outside the window
then resumed reading, while I was still
light-blind
suddenly, a tiny speck on the page
moved
it was green, it was alive
as my vision came to normal
I could see the insect
– wasn’t sure which kind –
the little one walked on the page
stepping over an “s” first
then a “w” but turned back
then came down to the word
“same”
and headed to the edge of the page.
I finished the poem, and thought to myself:
“This Bukowski is really good”
It was the first “Buck” poem
I ever read.
My latest work. Not sure what I am trying to say here… does art have an intentional message anyway?
Just had this image in my mind for quite some time. It has been censored by my image upload site, so here’s the PG-13 version:
For real good, famous modern art visit: Art Section
El avión se vio de mi ventana
de fondo el impresionismo de un sueño
se hacía y deshacía, el cielo, la nube, el tiempo
con la ley de una física
la sombra y la luz sobre el avión
el instante era oro
una pluma cayendo… despacio
una dulce repetición
otro, ¡otro avión!
otra totalidad, otro rincón
nada más existe – imposible.
Hay demasiado, incontenible reflejo
¿Cómo podré abarcar tanta luz?
la nube, el avión, el movimiento y la sombra.
Ahí están… ¿ahí están?
