Aggiornamento: 13 mar 2018
The judges’ hair is of celestial-white electric wires, charges conducting to the heavenly: they will be judged for what they judge.
The soul transmigrates when the body is harassed. Looking for a hideaway in the intellect … or in the understanding. Niminy-piminy. Once minced, the judgment, is ready to be written as a divine warning, dropped.
The ruins, as well as witnesses of the past-time, are there to clarify (and to liberate) its destructions without distraction from what it was. The ruins affirm the magnificence of the past grandeur, in a voltage to its meaning, without negligence.
As a poem of redemption, an empty fireplace staring blankly, shapes that do not talk each-other and disappear, given the unnaturalness of being placed in front of each other. Words, words, words as a deaf-mutes’ excruciating din cry spreading, are sparks of Venus – as inaccurate judgments they are suppressed embraces.
The ruins framing the past in the present among the contemporaneity of times and spaces, a historical-break perceived in the steps of the Future; entering in the room: as for the future takes its full shape it’s necessary that “it was” is perceived in “it is” . The tacit, infinite whisper of Time never disappears, never looks back, forgetting.
That’s how we ended up in different generations, black and white, like clouds loaded with dark omens, conscience that has not reached maturity to be revealed, yet.
Guai a dire la verità!!
Violet: the color of denied iper-sexuality. Hyper sexuality of redemption, androgynous pigment of pink and blue. Judging people by their gender differences – wanted to read in order to avoid the generation of chaos…
The syntax of the dialectic disruption of relationships, bursts through the distinction of sexes.
– From there starts the blaming of male: stupid, dangerous.
– Starts the marking of women: an object, a servant, a solver of evils, a mother.
– Starts in this way a sexual displeasure, the insult.
Avoided the meeting, avoided the mentioning. Stereotyped the meeting – separate rooms, different noises: RoUgNneCks & chEErleAdRrs.
When the body is harassed, the soul transmigrates into intellectual components. From white to dark pink, from neon to blue…
… and in the air tinged with hope, born souls’ pieces and they fly away as traceurs of freedom.
“Clouds: Black & White” by Mehiel Free – for the VideoPoetry click here