OMÚ

THE PAINTER OF THE POOR,

(WHO HAS SPLASHED DROP OF HIS BLOOD  ON CANVASES)

Dream,fight for me up to a better world,dignifying the humble materials,poor,rejected,as those people that we don,t welcome to, and much less support;feeling doesn,t matter.The material is twisted,the colour darkens human irony,the texture is smelling burnt flesh rage.Tale  not showed, locked cages,free primitive cry of those whose speak with tears,sigh of despair,sober into-xication laugh,bursting their needs with rusted cans,urinals without family,gummy painful sleeps,parks and sites enriched with sleeping bags, conversations absurdly lucid,cold nights tearing her clothes already worn out.There are dogs,wine cartons,whatever,anything goes;forgotten past For a future that no longer waiting at the gates of hell,created by us.

 The existential anguish,”the tempus fugitis” that leads to an irrevocable death advertise.The breath stitched to the skin,humanity synesthetic, starvation of a child each 3 seconds,nothing happens,war,gratuitous vio-lence,abuses,pollution in the Mother Earth to conquer by sword, the woman comes from our expense,to spoil  it is help,what is left is to be supportive.

I am at home,warm,stuffed full of objects with wheels.not gifts tie hope, neon lights,metallic looks,make ups,stinking perfumes,heartless words, stolen jewels,chanting,beating of overfed people by an unapproachable desire to exploit their already inflated egos.

 You may BE, even in a dessert with rats,rubble,poverty.Disappointed, fed up,made a worthy of nothing.The sensitive ones,touch you,listen to you,caress your wounds with cotton tongues,flood utopian delight your eyes,even the more military confrontations as a YES.

 “Good Morning-I say;nobody responds_”will I have to go on living as due to dumping sites,outlet,sewage,dirty puddles and rubbish containers that I HAVE MADE . Wail inside, long for the rubbing of clean fingers, free blood to feel we are ONE.                                                                           

The cloth is the skin, The enamel the blood.

The thread,veins, The bursting splashes,soul, The cut,destroy the grief,waiting for a healthy wound of hope,

The void………………………………………fluidity………….

Happiness disguised ………………….the death………………….

The karma on and on…………………………….a new born