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“In the attempt to blend politics with art, it never is that feelings dominate logic. Whereas, it will be that feelings, being of chaos, remain as is, until logic cleans up the mess. Where a riot will leave a disaster, logic will clean up the wreckage. Where does the cleaner take the rubble? Does he…
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Fall Through broken arms Reaching the blood My eyes had carried. In your hair, The strands weave me to your fortune, As I surprise myself To the emptiness of all. Your face, A stream of petals. My arms Drop the leaves, shed from distance. Are you the spring to take me Apart from what I…
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I want to love Without facilitation. I want to suffer In your dedication. My eyes have seen the waters, Same as our land. My hands have felt the wet pages, Same as those documents Of our histories. Your eyes, A closed center. My eyes, An open universe. We spiral In a spun form Where dwells…
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“Since when has the belief become a fact? Since when did we need scientific proof for something as a belief? Since when did this occur, when even love itself needs no science for its existence, when it cannot remain around without faith or trust?” – Modern Romanticism A fact requires evidence. A belief, however, does…
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“Fear is the solitude of a human, in their attempt to dig into themselves to find what they either loathe or can accept. Though, what person in their total solitude has accepted what they despise, be that a wound that must close?” – Modern Romanticism A person in love, feels everything. A person who feels…
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“All fear, makes two individuals equal. Though, to what a person can know of what they fear, makes them compassionate. All prejudice does not originate directly from hatred, though from fear. As love and fear are the two primary emotions of a human, hatred is an extension off fear. Hatred is not even a primary…
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“Like love, hatred is felt at first glance. Sooner when we get to know a person, we discover more we can love, or more we can hate, and always more we can accept.” – Modern Romanticism
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I: “The Man of Realization” He collects his tears, Captures his fears In the mirror where shows his trembling Unable to cease Of the crease To his complexion, In the design To his kind. He could not love What is not to him Belonging above In the wilderness Called paradise. What a love He denies…
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For as you bleed Asymmetry To the fragile moon’s face, I wish to trace What tears you have shorn From a flesh that has been bled and born Within the womb of love. I dream of you, Dear one, In my nights of no sleep, As I imagine the day with stars. You are in…
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Echo about Your frolicking self. The rain is but a flicker To the decay of warmth. I want to hold A form that wilts, no more, When the tears come as razors To the skin that has bled only coldness. Your frozen silence, Leaks memorabilia. Of earing and necklace Latched to flesh, Discarded from youth.…
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“No love has ever crossed the borders of time. It is love, however, to pledge life forever stood against its pain. For no two, truly in love, could ever part without then living half a life.” – Modern Romanticism Love is that emotion that from the one to the other, will see their life as…
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“We cry out of joy, out of the memories that escape to Heaven, upon the view of art. What art is, being something that arrests our attention, is much like how we look upon those who we love, in total admiration. We are grateful. All gratitude is let loose at the dining table, upon a…
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