September 10, 2011 § 12 Comments
God bless the rhythm of this city.
Bless the workers whose hands laid these stones bricks asphalt in meticulous order
made this place worth looking at.
Bless their sons– whose days start at 5 am supplicating in the mosque.
Bless the rhythm of the city.
And the water faucets in front of the mosque standing up to the noon sun
not backing down so easy.
And the one who placed the communal cup there for the wayfarer laborers to stop and have a second of relief from the Abu-Dhabi Sun.
Bless the halal meat shop slanging pounds by the dirham
across the street from KFC
staring the Colonel in the eye — “we are not backing down so easy.”
Bless this Abu Dhabi Sun-and the sons and daughters of the immigrant workers
the wayfarer workers yelled at by this greedy building owner for losing a couple of dirhams while money still spills out his pocket in his dump in disguise
but doesn’t have the sense to treat his workers with dignity.
Bless these wayfarers’ wages— fill them with blessing for their perseverance and their patience.
bless the newspaper peddler peddling slow a one speed bike with low tread on the tires up the road—
if only we could see the Reality, if only we could see the Reality—
that his bike long ago surpassed the speed of these expensive shiny hunks of metal seeming to speed by him—
slow and steady STILL wins this race make no mistake—
God bless the humble standing boldly in a world that mocks boasts flaunts gloats and marvels at the absurd.
Fill their dirhams with blessing fill their waking moments with blessing
Fill their graves with light.
Increase the dignity of a man who stoops in a blue uniform in a plot of shade not big enough to cover him.
Rays of sun beating against his back as he bends to sweep the cracks of the pavement most are not not suited to walk across— most are not worth a bead of sweat on the inside of his palm that grips the broom he sweeps with.
Bless the ones who hold these piles of bricks across their slender backs
Bless the ones who hold these piles of bricks together– make it worth looking at.
Bless these wayfarers who work tooth and nail
The Truth Prevail.
click on images to see larger view
September 4, 2011 § 1 Comment
This is an etching print that I did some time ago that still holds much relevance for me, so I return to it from time to time. To remind myself. To remind myself we have to break free of ourselves –to break free of others when and if we need to. to be humble, to be mindful, but to be great. we are noble creatures with vast potential.
Please click on image to see larger version.
contact me if interested in this print!
September 1, 2011 § 4 Comments
“well maybe it’s maybeline” fables
how immortality came to be contained
in a make up-kit
they just make up it
stop by and pay for it.
wearing trademarks like tread marks our
heads our hearts
are lead parts
full of white noise black voids as lights
everybodys just serial numbers scratched off
material over spirit–numb to the wonders
a coffin of cacophonous monotonous raunchiest rottenest minced meat for common sense pawned off for condiments not as meant to be as you thought it meant
all them accomplishments cashed in for not-a-cent- conquistadors indifferent to consequence
establishing incompetence on every continent
“calmly pour out of the contents of your consciousness”
Everything so saturated everything so coldly calculated chaos
Im so out of my skull at the moment from all the racket theres no point in trying to find where I left it at the moment
the gotta have its– rabid for rapid tabloid indigestion
don’t ask any questions
about origins or Purpose–don’t dare try to scratch the surface like circus fleas-pleaseee
for fear of being labeled as a conspiracist loon morbid eeyore on the verge of short circuit
sex sells egg shells you got less brain cells than the nextel
words are merciless Ivory pedasteled TV in 3D-HD the dream factory
turned nightmare and no one seemed to notice.
hocus pocus gibberish chants floating through the blood stream
from “can’t to can’t”
that means sun up to sun down that means all day and
that means there ain’t no time left inbetween for good old fashioned
and forbid one find something one don’t like about themselves
that’s a sign of some sort of madness and you’ll need a prescription to remedy that
there are walking graveyards that crave you the more if you stray far and you can stay hard-looking
as gargoyles but when you falling off the ledge you just hard-boiled humpty-dumpty eggshell interiors despite the lavish exterior
there are alterior motives all merry in the murial
another scratched off serial number
age old evil awoken from ethereal slumber hittin the snooze button numb to the wonders
I wonder oh I wonder how I come to be under the lumber of a structure half eaten by mechanical termites
auto-cannibals at every turnpike pull your credit card, turn swipe turn swipe turn swipe earn stripes germs spiked in my merchandise the merchant’s dice snake-eyein me down
looking for a Moses staff amongst these serpent mics
certainly time’s flight will smite all limelights
stricken from the record imperial wonders plundered by inevitable wrecking balls.