Tuesday, March 22, 2011



To be Born again ::
one must Die first
And this is not about Death
or Religion :: this is not Poetry
What good are Hands whose Palms
Do not have Lines :: Do not Lie
:: Lay your sleepy head in the sky
O sweet Illumination :: You
are not a Supermoon
but a bold figment
of the Sun :: Pigments of Leaves
are not solely Green like envious
teen who's never seen the nudity of ::
Sun sounds somewhat
like Sin :: and the Moon not again ::
why do you always figure in this
scene :: Soon too soon :: Give me
some room
To die Now is to live
Later :: But I would like to munch
on Biscuits now :: Drink
Coffee later :: Play
Cards forever :: Kill kill
And this is not about Murder ::
but Moon hiding behind ghost
vapours ::
Tonight let me kiss
the sun O yes
How Hot
you are :: my Lips
do not sting My lips are flaming
Burn Baby Burn Burn :: The Moon
suddenly :: between :: the Earth
and my Hands
How come
Have we come
so far ::
Where where
we are
Oh yes I said
to be born Again ::
one must die First

But I am ::
being Born
nor Dying
I am ::
but tiny figment
of your sun

Please Please

Look at me ::

Look at me ::

You so Bright
and Beautiful

Look at me ::

Look ::


Creative takes on the recent "Supermoon"
Poetry by Myself
Photography by
Jeffrey Ocampo
Short film by Joni Gutierrez

No comments:

Post a Comment