poem20artgallery

Standing before the iron threshold of history’s most infamous gates, this searing poetic work reflects on the violence of the written word, the death of the author, and an inescapable descent into the Universal Darkk.

Gazing through lidless eyes past the boundaries of knowing, this hypnotic poem confronts a distant star's glow and the approaching shadow of a lover’s deadly touch.

Calling out to the exhausted moonlight beyond the bounds of space and silence, this evocative incantation weaves Spanish folkloric refrains with a desperate plea to rescue a fallen celestial muse.

Trapped in a loop of helpless infancy and haunting longing, this visceral poem wanders through forgotten storefronts and drifting avant-garde strings, aching to be hushed into sleep.

• Wandering through the Kingdom of Detours from the Watts Towers to Tenochtitlan and Paris, this sweeping poetic work collides memory, violence, and mirror reflections into a single question: What is beauty?

• Rising like a dark peacock across the sky, night suffocates the lunar glow in this striking lament for a moon bleeding its final spell of light.

• As the golden sun vanishes into darkness, "The Moon Is Dreaming" lingers in the cold silver dusk, confronting the distant shadow that has stolen a beloved soul forever.

Plunging through a surreal cosmic abyss, "Tongues" portrays an intimate catastrophe where loving declarations echo out of reach, and the voice is severed just before it can answer.

Trapped between a tightening grip and tender devotion, "I Can’t Exhale You" traces the terrifying threshold where lethal suffocation blurs into intimate surrender.

"Uplift me, O luna, lunera. Take me in your arms, away, far away—wrap me gently in a swath of scarlet tulle..." An incandescent prayer of longing, merging body and soul with moonlight.

"The flavor is red, like blood. It hurts my tongue, which turns to stone... The wind is time, I know." A relentless exploration of the petrifying rush of life slipping away.

"At the threshold, not a soul. An empty space. Nevertheless you will ask for me." A quiet, poignant reflection on departure, nostalgia, and echoes left behind in the dark.