Panama Red Arts Launch Party

This Saturday

at 7:00

15 June 2013

 Panama Red Arts 

presents:

EYE DECAY

Presenting:

Ben Burr

Janelle Bonfour-Mikes

Celia Rose

Javier Baeza

Carlos Ventura

Jamie Zoe Givens

and more!

Join us at The Building in 5 Points
1008 Woodland
East Nashville

An evening of art in many forms

beer and wine

and cupcakes.

easter [a poem]

and it will be that when I die
I'll remember
till then I wonder
how can it be what makes me cry
is not all very somber.
yellow is the daffodil emerging from the frost
translucent in the morning sun
evanescence lost.
this fleeting feeling once familiar
now forever thrown
I believe we're stars
we're light
but hell
to each his own.
the violent pink of the morning sun
same as them eyes of yours
it sets the tone that marks another
day passed inside doors.
and reminiscing of the days that we'd sleep hand in hand
and chin in neck and lips on cheek
ashes lost in sand.

at the altar [a poem]

With nails as red a Jesus’ blood

I sit before the altar

there’s yet one challenge left to face

don’t let my focus falter.

With heads of babes 

the palms they read

the feathers one blue only

the cyclops he’s eternity

and knowing this he’s lonely.

With cougar face the girl she stares

mi jefe se robaron

a su hija 

the bride stripped bare

the shells and showing one.

One thing’s half missing with partial face

the world’s a heavy load

with Alice under foot 

the hound

lights the way to gold.

Ché qué decís 

the ginger aid

sleeps among the fields

where fresas smoke 

the girls who dance

And John the saint 

he heals.

bio with words

starlight star bright
i once had to sneeze
and ended up among a plethora
of strawberries

in the morrow maybe
diez y siete ominous indians kidnapped me
and tied me to the mesa de noche
i enjoyed the trip

but they told me that i was a transplant
i must endlessly travel
i used the scissors they fed me for breakfast
yet could not fit into the chimenea

breathe deep
seek peace

the belly of the mississippi
isn't so immense
your hermanos are down there
waiting

"Forget the quarrel!"

Pollyanna paid no heed.


--- a     wonderful discovery
     soon flew up   her nose,

     swept past   another

one --- after that
forget     your pride and
my   leisure

skipped       low under her

   days

read between the lines

Rusted is the copper chime, her spirit gone for now.

Not to the stars, heed not the lies, the murmurs of the crowd.

Her echo is loft across the map but listen! For it isn't loud.

She belongs not to the sea nor land, yet uses each at whim

to tune the notes. The fire is stoked, yet she soars with her kind, the wind.

And, as the moon, the seasons change, thus shall the rose turn, too,

back to the ones she calls her own. Tho she fears it won't be soon.