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Something old SOMETHING NEW by LUCHESSI MONTECILLO POETRY FROM 2009 - 2012

Something old something new

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This is the temporary draft of a book I am making out of the poetry I've writen and performed with over the last 3 years. A mixture of different thoughts, emotions and moments from my life...Feedback is welcome and greatly appreciated.- Luchessi Montecillo

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Page 1: Something old something new

Something oldSOMETHING NEW

by LUCHESSI MONTECILLOPOETRY FROM 2009 - 2012

Page 2: Something old something new

INDEXTHROUGH THE WOODS2010

26. Blunder27. The cannibal28. On conquest29. Certainty

30. The android31. Stance32. Stuck in a hard place33. Ghost34. A daughter’s suffrage35. The student36. From Eve36. The frontline37. Blue roses38. If39. Silence

BLACK BOX2012

64. Psychological moratorium65. Fruit 66. Come clean67. Bloodless wars68. The feeble mind69. Whys

70. Reality71. Ruby dreams72. Making love73. What’s it going to be74. Life, life, life75. Love is an army76. The piper77. Life = love78. Progression79. Eye of the beholder

80. Communion81. The deception of stimulus

Book design & illustrationsBy Luchessi Montecillo

© IO Montecillo

All Rights Reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any way witthout permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote sources in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine or newspaper.

SEEDS2011

40. Arise41. Apprentice42. Reality & illusion43. To Adam44. We are an ocean45. Watcher46. Love47. 1 + 1 = 0 pt.148. Temple49. The dance50. Timelines

51. Letter to my unborn child52. Endless nothing53. 1 + 1 = 0 : pt. 254. Milk and honey55. Immaterial manifest56. Amalgamation57. Perhaps58. Music59. The ritual

60. Hunter61. Matter62. Taking arms63. Tao

THE JOURNEY2009

1. Watch, Wait, Listen2. Comfort tremors3. As I am4. Untold5. A piece of me6. Intentions7. Wounded8. Becoming9. Spite

10. Stay11. To serve12. Grateful pawn13. Tender dusk14. From grace15. Something simple16. White flag17. Pragmatic18. Let me hold your hand19. Ode

20. Willow21. Red moon fruit22. Retrace23. Sleeping, waking, dreaming24. The world turned silent25. Through

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INTRODUCTION

Like many others before me, I started writing poetry when I was a teenager as a way to express the feelings I didn’t dare tell anyone else.

My reasons for writing have changed over time, as has my relationship to words, or my general attitude towards revealing my innermost feelings to other people, even complete strangers, or a faceless mass.

What a strange and slow journey my life has been and continues to be.

Selfexpression has become a sort of belief in itself for me. Perhaps because the freedom I experience when I do what I love the most which quite simply ,as well as vaguely said, is to create art. The definitions of art are many, and I cannot suppose to appoint myself an authority in any regard.

What I have to say about art, or about life, could be judged as quite primitive, even naive. But I will at least make an attempt to convey my perceptions to anyone who is willing to listen.

For now, these are words and images, a jumbled collage of the journey that is my life; where I’ve been, where I am, and to some extent where I’m going, although not all things may be clear to me, as they might become, or might have been. Only time can reveal all of this.

Page 4: Something old something new

THE JOURNEYWORKS FROM THE YEAR 2009

© Ikola Artworks by Rene Krogh and Luchessi Montecillo

WATCHWAITLISTEN

Gaze upon melet those eyes slideslowlylike bending time on that which is my cage and form...

These eyes have no deceptionso reflectas the words you speak are the steps you tread to meet me..

These are strange times fellow traveller and long lost brothersoul petitioner and friend

I prepare a placefar beyondbehind and within our realm

See me if you get there and all ends will have no end..

Speak soft and deepthere is no map to reach me only state..

Linger calmly, watch, wait and listen to know the time.

I am quiet oceans, jade meadows and jasmine in summers eve nestled in lover’s vines..

COMFORTTREMORS

Child, these arms are weary though willingthey are full of ache....

The birthpains course to the very bone and there seems to be no end

Be gentle when you weep as the tremors seep into my very soul

Your pain becomes mine and I know I cannot let it go

I am already an ocean and though drops are no greater burdenI feel the weight added to join ebb and flow.

Be kind as these hands take nothing back and has no will to ask

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There is life in these veins..

Branching out like summer heat..

The flesh and bone that make my cagetendersereneand aware..

I may be lanky but there is swank in my stridethere is curve, prowl and glide..

There is strength, in wispy form.

I am solid fiber but I yield like soothing water.

There is loving whisper in my touchand molten core In my breath.

I swell and stretch,to the right tune and caress

I cry springtime when I rise and set..

I move with steady rhythmperfect balance and hard-willed grace..

My patience is enduringMy action strikeswith slow, immediate perception

I am forceful, quiet delight,I am hidden exaltationsacred templegates of lifesoul confessionsweet surrenderviolent receiverwilling givereager peacemaker.

I am nature-bornwill-forgedtime-space tornconcept child,wander soullover’s fire

I am words of nimbus and untold promisefierce innocence and sweet flesh.

I am I seein essence...

AS I AM A PIECEOF ME

This faceIs so deceptiveThis smileThese eyes…..

Beneath them all,Behind them….

Do you feel it….

The pain of joy,The cup that overflows And empties itself….

There is a piece of my heart MissingWalking the earth….

Featherskin,Soft strength chariot,Where are you going And where have you been….?

We were born outside the nest….

I have arrived and am calling your name….

The words bleedMy eyes wander into the distance….

There is a sound I cannot makeThere is a face I haven’t seen But I remember….

There is still one pieceOne piece of meWanderingBehind my eyes and beyond my reach….

UNTOLD

I saw youwith your head bowedyou whispered a silent prayerin a language unknown to any human earand I answeredwithout your asking..

I opened my armsyou smiledacceptedand left me here...

Another name on my lipsanother child in my armsanother scar to bearMy cup overflows and empties itself anew...

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Flesh and bone....alive and breathing as it may be

Your eyes are cold...

My determination is torn...

See me...

For oncejust once...

Use those eyes,and connect...

Your words are kindyet they leave me starvingkneeling beneath the starscrying in vain...

I’ve laid my veins beneath your feet to rest,opened every door and yet...

You paint my chest with silence

You washed my feet in doubt and feardried them with good intentions...

All I askall I ever wanted was your moments...

To understand it,to utter the sound would be futile...

One has to feel to know,the mind has to perceive,to understand.

Time and pressure...

What hangs in the balance,of pain,is not death,but the edge of becoming.

To risk life as it is,well knowing what is to come...

Passion is an eight-edged sword,thrust into the core,of being.

With my hand on the handle,I lean against it...

Not yet, not just yet...

WOUNDEDThose words...

Carving wounds in my chestlike angry dogsgnawing at the last bone...

Beneath the cloak of time and distanceI feel hands watching my breath...

Dark stepswhere my dreams were spread..

Something is breakingsomewhere silent and hidden...

I reached outin the darkness,and found only whispersnot forgottenonly given and left for dead...

INTENTIONS SPITE

Blood, water and fire fill my voidmake smoke and mirrors of this breath

Slender hands made up of stringy tendons make fists around the darkness

My bones have been emptiedthe marrow replaced with steely determination...

I will make lightning from serpents hissblack hole armor to fill my chest

Let the wolves comethey will yield beneath my feet...

Where shadow meets dawn,where vines burst forth from the ashes...

I will meet you at sunset,where death was born in that tangled web

I have but one stand,and it moves with the rising current...

There will be gentle tides,and there will be monstrous storm

Guard your eyes if you must,turn away,it won’t be long before the dawn...

BECOMING

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Do not leave me love

The world is coldand without youthe lights grow dim...

I do not fear deathand soon enoughit will part us

but stay as long as the moment takes us...

I have abandoned hope,I need no words to know...

Stay with medie with melet the sand shift and slipbetween our twining hands...

STAY

© Ikola Artworks by Rene Krogh and Luchessi Montecillo

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I want to hold your hand

but you and I do not speak the same languageso I listenand ask that you keep speakinguntil I begin to understand....

Word by wordI will watch youand try to understand....

There are lovers finding eachother

fumbling in the darkacross crowdsat concertsin barsand chatline forumsholding handswaving and bidding to draw eachother near....

So I ask you

by continuing to listento let me see youwanting only to hold your hand....

It may take years

like the raising of childrenlike the mind maturingto meet with common words...

Nevertheless I am grasping for your hand

that you may know I am herestill listeningand that you don’t have to be alone....

All I ask is that you keep speakingand every once in a whilepause to listen....

Blessed is the common manhe who toilsfrom whom our lives have sprungforgotten by bardsand those who congregatedaround vain idolswhose frozen facesyielded nothing but wantin the heart of man...

Here I standin silent cornerspondering wordsto awakensimple pebble as I amfinding myself in a sea of gemsonly wanting to sing their remembrance...

What timeand pressurehas createdin comparisonto this unrelenting bleedingmust stand i higher favor...

Mere musesare meant to servenot meant to rulein the court of the silent nobles...

So I watchI stand asideto let life unfoldin greater bardsand nobler creatures...

These hands were never meant for sceptersnor will any grace wash away the bloodthat has been spilled...

So I make my way to the deserthoping somehowjustice will rememberher home..

ODELET MEHOLD YOUR HAND

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WORKS FROM THE YEAR 2010

Throughthe woods

© Henrik Jespersen and Luchessi Montecillo

Page 10: Something old something new

As you enterburrowingpast my defenses

Past sweet smilesfrozen silencesand futile attempts at escape

know this...

That every victoryevery inchof meyou conqueris a piece of my lifein your handsthat I struggle to keep

And I wishI wasn’t so scarredfighting this surrender

I wish I wasn’t bruising from the inside outand hardeningfrom the outside in

But what will I doonce you’ve torn throughthe mazepast the face of the womanI have becomeand find the little girlI used to be...?

conquest

I don’t assume you’ll love me forever

I have no illusions of being so grand...

What I knowis simplybeforeand afterthe fact itself...

This moment is ours

But beforeand afterwhich existoutside of this

are like wavesbetween two distant shores...

I can only perceiveyour statemy eyes receiving signalsthe mind attempts to process the feedthe heart like a drumbeatinglike bulletsclashing against paperthin senses...

I deconstruct the imageof what wasto see you nowfeel you nowand walk from here...

I am no oracle

I see no certaintiesno mapsbut paths carvedby networks of intent

possible outcomesfrom what iswhat wasform a general pointon the horizonof what I seeas time

From herethe closest I can arriveat certaintyis stilljust here...

Certainty

On

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I am a biological androidphysically crafted by natureto trigger stimulus, approach and response...

I was given senses to view the terraincognitive tools to process the datathe result being my choicesactionsas reactions

responses to stimulusresponsesthat are either confirmationor rejectionof inputto which I director withhold my output

I can choose my outputbut any input registeredwill trigger an inward responsewhether expressed or not

such is the mechanism of my existence

Once one action has taken placeanother will inevitably resulteither inwards or outwardsor both

It’s a quarter to 2 in the morning and I can’t sleep

My man beside mepeacefully snoreson my left

The cat purrstucked around my right hand

And I feel like a refugee in this peaceful scene...

As we lie hereside by side

There are politicianssneaking food out of our mouthsand time out of our hands

As we lie here

My little brotherslumbers in his bedhis soldiers uniform hangs on the chair

My little sisterlies newly wedat the age of 22As we lie hereand I long for the peacethat is painted on your very face

A cold chill runs its course down my spine...

As we lie here

The walls around mescream into my very flesh

the streets await our stepsthe clocks await our stampsthe banks await our checks

As they do countless others...

Tomorrow we will riseand I will paint the image of courage on my face...

BlunderThe android

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She watches youwith eyes as deep as teacupsand the spiked smilefumbling and scrapingfor golden platitudes

The well known scentof latexand mourningbeershas long since burrowed itselfbetween the hairsbehind the portals of consciousnessand laid itselfas a haloof lusty deceit

Fingers draw circles

in the air with tots of hairon the neckaround the slit at the pushed up breastsand the half open mouthlobbying for thousands of empty, worn promises

Eager, limp fingers

smearing sticky toiletpoetryacross my retinaswhile the beast withinhowls and tears at my insidesunderneath the mask of stillness

I quietly back away from youto hide the claws behind my shadowto escape the words pushing behind my teethand the earthquakes threatening to shatter my chest

THECANNIBAL

I want out

from this sorrowthis female betrayalplanted like a stilettofrom one woman to another

I NEED out

My body begins to gasp for the nearest escape routeaway from this cannabalistic crime scenewhere I can bury these thoughtsand let them bleed out into the dead of nightwhere no one bears witnessto this silent murder

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I meet youAs your reflection...

The dreams of your youthThe endurance of your spiritAnd the women before usSpread in my veins

The raging bloomThe pangs of creationThe flush of time steeredSearing to the core

I wear our legacyWith pride

Mother...

You’ve laid down the bow and arrowThe clocks are rustingBut I

I say

We riseWe rise

With heartsStrengthenedBy battle scarsMinds quickenedWith passionWith painThe furyThe peace of creation

Mother...I am....

From the aching womb

Mother...

You carved

From fleshFrom tears

With quivering hopesThrough the struggleFrom tired handsWeary young feet

And gave breath...

To these eyesBurning with the willOf women past...

Created my existenceVesselThe soundOf my name

The badge of honorTo carryTo lift your burden...

Mother...

SisterFriendPantherRunningCoursingThough my bones

I riseI rise

AgainAnd again

A daughter’s suffrage

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THE STUDENTWe are all apprentices of lifeunborn philosophersattempting to solve the equationof our purpose

We become scholarswhen we let go the assumption of certaintyand ask what is possiblewithin the reality of our lives

We become participating scientistsexplorersconquerorsof our own limitations

We move forwardand the empirical studybecomes the resultof our fate and purpose

FromEve

I love a working manwho like his many fathers before himtends the house of his family

Faithful to his dutyhe takes his timeto serve his rightful conscience

And when he returns to mehis eyes are tender with needhis body bruised beneath the skin

A true son of the earthHis broad shoulders carry the weightof our common battle

The shackles on his feetwere made to close his eyesfrom the beating of his heartto tie the lamb to an altar of gold

© Ikola Artworks by Rene Krogh and Luchessi Montecillo

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It’s a man’s worldand as a womanI say

As your daughterssistersmothersand lovers

We love our men

As they riseevery morningAs they toil the land

Transmuting sweatfrom brows to crowns

As you standas men on the battlefieldwith bows and arrows

Remember this

that we stand at the frontlinein your heartsin our hearts

Conjoinedinterlockedto remind youwhat you are fighting forwhat we fight for

Life

Transmuting from your toilwe carve the historyof your legacy

Remember what we are fighting for

Fatherssonsbrothers

What we fight forwhat we are dying foris your heartsthat you may remember your honorand return home

We fight for your lives

For life

We loveto soothe the beastand make hymnsof the drums of war

You and IOne and zeroday and night

The ones are never brokenbut sleepingin the fever of your tempest

THE FRONTLINE

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SEEDSWORKS FROM THE YEAR 2011

© Ikola Artworks by Rene Krogh and Luchessi Montecillo

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ARISEWhat is ready?it is time for the exchangethe ancient rites of passagethe cycle of ancestral passing

Light the candleshonored mothers and fathers

You’ve paved the pathbless these young feetwith gods speed

We’re willing and ablethe dust awaitslet the grave not take the world arising before your very feet

Your eyes grow coldas the blood slowslet us quicken you once through these our eyesreborn before the twilight

See the dust before you arise

Arisethough theseyoung feetnew worldthrough theseour eyes

Let the night not take youbefore the light embraces you

Arisearrive

This world is to become my design

I am an apprentice of lifegazing upon the starsthe godsthe eyes of fateold wisdom raining down from the sky

They are my teachersancestorsfathersmothersthe pantheonthat dreamed me into existenceand through their passingthey breathed me into life

Illustration “In between” by Luchessi Montecillo

APPRENTICE

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The consciousness is a self-constructed illusion There is only life and deathexisting and non-existing

To claim lifeone must relinquish desirewhich is rooted in suffering

Suffering is the fear of lossand the speculation of gain

I have abandoned my fearto learn of caution

I have lost my strengthto understand resolve…

REALITYILLUSION&

“Perspectives” by Luchessi Montecillo3 piece acryllic painting Consisting of 80 x 60 canvases

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Dear Adam

We were born in darknessbefore knowledgein some state of contented emptinessentwined in a faceless dualityneither halfnor wholeneither lackingnor completeand outside of all time

Then came night and daydarknesslightthe beginningand the end

embodied in this breathing clockworkcounting the fragments of the immeasurableconfining by definition that which is limitless

And so we were delivered into this linear polarityseparated by birth from our selflike broken light reflecting endlessly

hollow faces peer into the nextseeking to break the chain of progressionand return to the undefined nest

TO ADAM

Illustration: “YouMeUs” by Luchessi Montecillo

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In the vast oceanbetween you and I, Love

where nothing becomes everythingwhere everything becomes nothingwords are a gilded cage…

Words are limitedby the perceptions of the mind that speaks themand by that of the mind that receives…

Measure the depth of the oceanits endless abyss…

Conceive its partsdiffusing into the void of space…

Feel its ebb and flow rise and then subsidein its vessels…

You and I are vessels….

Bodies of water…

Where do you and I end and beginin this sea…

WE AREAN OCEAN

I’ve heard that faith moves mountainsbut I as a child of new timeshave seen the echoing shadowsof empires that rose and fell

I’ve seen the face of man through the massand the flag of acquiescence raisedin the name of temperancetrading the meek for the proud

I’ve seen rivers of bloodspilled unto retinas of the young and the oldI’ve seen streams of liquid sorrowspilled for the living and the dead

I’ve seen the beauty of life dissectedgambled, tradedand spilled unto the desert sands

There are no innocents we are all parts of a greater sum...

WATCHER

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You and Iwe arethe whythe other

Between life and deathlife being the equationdeath being the completion

Every lapse in timea process of elimination

1 + 1 = 0You and I

We…

In time outside of framesthere is no you or me

1 + 1 = 0

Two silhouettesclashwindbendmergedisappear

The conscious division invertsinto a primordial merger

You and I becomes weWe becomewe disappearin the embracein timein the next form

1 + 1 = 0 I am the tenant of this abodeIt is the manifest of spontaneous realization

I existAnd in knowing this is the challenge

The prize was won long ago…

But what to do with such a gift…

Creation is in my graspBut comprehension is more than physical…

Physical is a temporary sum

TEMPLE

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Illustration: “Keeper” by Luchessi Montecillo

We are standing at the junctureof history repeating

Those who have come beforesee the times as they have always beenThose who have arrivedsee the times as they could be

What has been and what could bewhat will beexists as one singular pointin the present

Time does not passit is not limited by our existence

Our existences are limitedand we project our limitations unto the common consensus

LETTER TO MY UNBORN CHILD

I wish I could tell you what the world ishow it has always beenand what will come of it

But the fact of the matter isthat I am not your sovereignyou are mine

I am your servantand you are the echo of my dreamsthe sum of my actionsthe unpredictable ripplesof visions to come

What I amis the record of your comingthe mapthe tool of your fate

And youare the dreamerthat sang me into this existence

TIMELINES

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AMALGAMATIONI want you to love methe way that I love you, need you, want you, breathe you, bleed youmoths to the flame

I'll burn on through the nightswrap my wings around you in bending wavesI'll be the milky way coffee taste stain on your lipsthe midnight spiraling staircase beneath closed eyes

your lucid operatoryour binary star-born siameseIf you can riddle me this and rid the equationwithin this dreaming mistthat is the dance betweenwhat we believe and what we perceive

I'll be amalgamation to the arrow that defies reason

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When you and I meet...

The one invasivethe other obscure...

A collisionA mergerAn eclipse

Or so one might be taught to believe…

Two bodiesin each their orbit…

They do not rise or setThey do not compete...

They dance…

The sun is fire explosion expansion scorched earth…

The moon is rock reflection regulation swelling tides…

From the EarthI see with the eyes of a child…

It is not the sunnor the moonthat rises and sets…

It is I…

Time dances in circlesand is constant...

You and Iare dancersmade in the imageof unfathomable constance…

THE DANCE

Page 25: Something old something new

One reason

In the vastness of space

One point in the obscurity of multiplicity

To findTo be foundTo be revealed

The path is an inward journey

My vision is incompleteOnly when I close my eyesDo I reach

1 + 1 = 0

Makes the sum of the equation

Through the maze of myselfIn the maze of the other

The solutionA procesA question that must answer itself

1 + 1 = 0 Pt.2Do not let life in

Remove yourself from the weight of existingLet substance be substancein all its inconsistency

It is the way of naturefor all things to pass

And sowant nothinghold nothingbut be empty

Be the endless nothingthat exists in the between

ENDLESS NOTHING

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Eyes open10 am11 am12 am

She gets out of bedbetween the mirror and the windowfacing each otherthe sun bouncing back and forthin and out of the room

He’s up

in the kitchenthe music plays in the living room

“I’m the kind of girl that likes to take it slow and easy”

“One step at a time boy you’re moving to fast”...

Black jeans slideover one leg and the othersilver buckles rustleas she makes her way to the mirrorlooking into foreign eyes

He turns up the volume

“One step at a time boy, you’re moving too fast”…

The bass pounds through the wooden floorthe sound from the speakers pass through the wallinto the bedroombehind the mirror

Bare chest and feet clad in jeans walk into the bathroomtrying to remember the nights dreamfingers splash water over sleepy eyes

Beyond the bathroom wallin the kitchenthe faucet runsthen the sound of glass and whirring of a machinethe smell of coffeelarge feet dancing

Brown eyes look into a mirrorfingers tie black hair back into a ponytaillittle feet walk out into the hallskin and wood form scraping steps

Two figuresspot each other through a mirrorat each their doorone largeone small

Blue eyes meet brownSun meets the moonopen eyes and smile exchanged like a handshake

The volume turns downthe bass explodesday and night spin around each other

From minutes to secondswords tiptoethen crawl over fencesand leapclashing into frontlines

Music turns to silencehands become headrests, handkerchiefs, banners and flags

Silence becomes musicMusic has never been this loud...

MUSIC

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The forest is dense and dark

The moon is fulland the stars bear silent witnessto the ritual unfoldingfar beyond the reach of their light

The deer staggers

feverish anxietyguides quivering steps across the mossy floor

A crisp snapwith the muffled sound of rustling leafsmake pupils of liquid resin dilate into vibrating black holes

The shadow of a two-legged tower crouches to the groundlistening for a distant drum

The hunter halts

Bow and arrows are fastened around his backthe remains of slain conquests cover his shark-like form

His hand touches the groundscrying for the location of his preythe slightest movement, vibration, resonance

The nostrils expandinhaling for for a vision that will guide his aimthrough the white noise of silence

Hunter and deerpit wit and skill against paperthin intuition

The night is youngand nature’s ritual game of chess is about to unfold

THE RITUAL

Illustration: “Deer season” by Luchessi Montecillo

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We are usI am youYou are I

All is one and separateeverything in its placeto be foundto be revealedin the whole

What is an eternal mistlike a dreamsubjected to interpretationresulting in the physical

What is intentionState your purpose

Multiple directions form shadesbecoming the gathered reality

Black & whitebetween two extremestwo mirrorsone stream

Polarity becomes an illusion

Usthemmeyou

Form and function

Matter

The heart of matter

What is THE MATTER

Beyond formis substancebeyond substanceis meaning

MATTER

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It is time to take up arms and by arms I mean hands pens hearts and intentions

How long have we been watching this horror of greed and manipulation unfold and when did we acquiesce to these ways?

Brother against brother sister against sisterelders against the nextwhile the anonymous watch the scraping for scraps…

There is no competition nothing to be won but our souls which cannot be claimed in the afterlifethat may if we are fortunate and deserving serve as muses in the echoes of future tongues.

Heaven can only be on Earth and in our minds the re-evaluation of our evolution is the revelation of the individual on behalf of the whole.

Our minds are the product the transcript of past in the present transitioning into the resulting realityand our limitations are the illusion

We are not alone but bound to the ties that are beyond description

WeAreUs.

We cannot make it on our own,and we will fail without each otherWho are you and where have you been?

We’ve been standing in the shadows watchingwaitingand it is time to speak from somewhere in betweenmeet eye to eyeexpand the definitions which are mutable by nature

We the people are the shapers of this illusionThe structure is not set in stone but built on sand and there will never be a law or a will beyond the power of consensus

TAKINGARMS

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I believe in the wisdom of the Tao

I have no need for buildingscongregations or prayers to feel it

It is in all thingssilentlygracefully

I need no titleno landno goal greater than my purposewhich is to seek the Tao

The paththe way of naturewhich cannot be mappedspoken or read

The Tao is the Taofar beyond my reasoningThis body is not mine

It is simply the form of my usageIt is not a prize and cannot be won traded or lost

It is my templethe result of my actions

It is the expressionthat defines my understanding of time

I am naked and emptyIncomplete

To be made wholecan only be by the hand of the Tao

So I lose myselfto see myselfthat I may meet the mystery and be complete

TAO

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Writing is my attempt at escaping and meeting an end

All roads lead to consequenceAll consequences require reflection

Words are not actions Actions are not resultsImages are not truth

The most beautiful lies hide the most ugly truths

How the flowers bloom in peaceful resilience

How the birds soar in defiant grace

The trees do not killThey merely reclaim lost fruit

“FRUIT”

BOXBLACKWORKS FROM THE YEAR 2012

© Kasper Dahl Finderup & Luchessi Montecillo

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Giddens and Ziehesay we are culturally liberated…

It means that all ties to cultural heritagegender rolestraditionsfamily structuresare merely another choice…

Giddens calls this the democratization of relationshipsor the pure relationship

It means that we are only as bound to one another as we chooseOr as long as there is a use…

What is the heart…?What is love…?

Sartre and Camussay that essenceor identityis found in choice

Frankl says essence cannot be soughtbut revealed in the circumstances of life…

What is choice…?

Freud’s psychosexual theoryMahler and the infant’s psychological birth

Erikson’s 8 phases; growth vs. inhibition at every crossroadan eternal cycle

Riesman’s social identities according to erainner or other-directed personalitythe lonely mass

Narcissismhealthy and unhealthy

Choices…

All fingers pointedat every juncturein one directionthe only destinationis me...

Psychological moratorium

That’s what Erikson calls a breakA mental leave of absence to rechargeor change the tideof the inevitable eksistential frustrationthat occurs in the age of youth

Forming an identityin this worldin these timesor just at this age

It isa challenge

Identityhas becomea social constructa political debatea religious wara philosophical dead enda constricting equation

Is it enough to beDo I have the timeCan I spare the timeCan I make the timeCan any time be mine…

Gardner’s theory of 7 intelligences

Mathematicallinguisticmusicalkinestheticspatial

And most of allIntrapersonaland interpersonal

Intrapersonal - the understanding of selfInterpersonal - the understanding of others

Can Gardner’s emotional intelligence be measured…?

PSYCHOLOGICALMORATORIUM

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Birth is an eternal bondThe world is one living entity

War is polarizationConsciousness is benevolent neutrality

Meaning is inherent in existenceExistence is love itself

Meditation is the art of understanding and mastering self

Peace is a meaningful composition

BLOODLESS

WARSPlease...

I am begging youto look into my eyesand take my hand

away from the ghostsyou fill your heart your mind and you body with…

They cannot hear you...

And I knowlike sirensthey seem to sing promisesof a lost paradise

but I am hereright nowbleeding for you

Come back...

Rememberwhat is still here

Forget the love that was wasted

Bitter regret will never offer you warmth

The arms and smiles of strangersthey will not cry for you if you are gone

I’ve seen your lightand I’ve seen your hell

I’ve cried in silence for your loss

I’ve torn myself open to quench your thirst

I’ve borne the weight of your hatred

I’ve watched you stray into packs of wolvesholding your handchoking back the screams

what greater vow do you want?Is it not enough...

All I ever wantedwas to show youthe beauty you’ve missedwithout and within

They are still herewaiting for youto come clean...

COME CLEAN

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As I am speaking to youwe share this physical spacebut I am one fragment of the worlda world contained within myselfspeaking to other worlds

I cannot assume your conditions

I can senserecognize evaluate ponder interactbut I am not the world within you

WE ARE

LIKE CELLSWITHIN THE SAME BODY

WE AREbodies of waterFILLED withCONSCIOUSNESSThe mind is like a rite of passageour mazein which we toy with the fabric of existencemultiple timelines converging at a single pointwhilst we delude ourselves into linearity

LIFE IS nowTHE UNIVERSEis NOWtomorrow may not exist in this form

We are not here for ourselves alonewe are not here by our own will

Nature is beyond our feeble attempts at subjugationand she is running out of patience

CONSTANTLYINTERACTINGpermeating each other in our endless separation and unison

All that separates us is an outer shell

WE ARE BODIES OF WATERStudies show the effect of the mind on the structure of water molecules

INTELLECT AND INTUITIONWhy do we praise the intellect so?

If I were emptyI could be molded as it were fit

would it give you more peaceif we were neither happy or sad?

Should we eliminate all discrepancies?

What is normaland what is an anomaly?

I can hypothesizebut the shortest distance to any destination is action

Speaking of peace does not bring it aboutSpeaking of oneness does not rid the individual of ego

The dismantling of the egois an individual process

Individuality must be subjected to the illusory extremesof norm and singularitycontained within the single mindto create the fear of losing self

Self exists regardless

But what the self is…

Is the self how we are perceivedis it how we ourselves perceiveor is it both and a third

Reality differs from one to the other

THE FEEBLE MINDKNOW NOTHINGi

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Beneath these watery mirrorsat the foot of winding stepsthere is an old treebathed in the dew of dawning days...

From this treeas we lay beneath the branchesI saw flowers bloomwhite as the full moonI heard the grass whisperlike gentle waves...

And the petals did sightowards the earthcovering uslike the feathers of a dove...

I picked you a rubyin a midsummer night’s dreamand placed it on the hearthwithin my ancestral templein the hope that you would read the prayerinscribed on the doorto the inner sanctumand enter...

RUBY

DREA

MS

Reality...

The very definition is:

“the state of things as they actually do existrather than as they appear or may be thought to be”

“In a wider definitionreality includes everything as it is and has beenwhether or not it is observableor comprehensible”

“Or everything that has existedexists or will exist”

It is a grand term to be used by an individualour feelings are not real by this definitionand so the question becomeshow realistic are we capable of being?

Obejctivity and subjectivityA balance between the two is the goal

Introspectionthe self has to subject itself to the scrutiny of objectivity

A paradoxto experience subjectivelyto feel

thento analyseto objectifyoneselfrattionalization

For what purpose might be the question

Understanding my fallibilityis the first step to cultivating what may be deemed as identity

To confess my limitationsis attempting to pass through the nexus

REALITY

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We talk incessantlydebating back and forth about the meaningthe definition of love and lovemaking

Despite what you think I actually do love you as who you arenot who you think you areor who you want to bewho you wish you werewho you used to be

I mean you, you, youwhen the party’s over and the crowd has goneand you argue with yourself about the smallest things

I don’t tell you enough, I knowor i don’t tell you in the way you wantbut from the bottom of my broken heart I wish you knew

No explanation could ever be enoughI have no excuses for my flawsthe only thing I care about is what I keep coming back to when the chips are downlove me, leave me, set me free

but don’t tell me I’ve tried to do anything but make love

I just want to love youand what you find a mysterythe sum of my actionsis a screaming conclusion in my experience

I could write endless dissertationsto convince youjust as you try to convince mebut we’d be stuck in limbo

try as we mighttrying is not succeedingit is in the doingthat can’t be found in words

In silencea smilea kissan embracean open declaration

I write you poemsbecause the meaning gets lost in our everyday conversation

A fallible beingwith shaky hands

I write you sonnets, ballads, hymns, prayers, petitionsshouting from rooftops like a madmanwhispering in dark dingy cornerstrickling from my wrists like sweaty moonshineand you don’t have to drink if you’re not thirstybut why pick the cup if you don’t like the drink?

MAKING LOVE

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EYE OF THE BEHOLDERThey say beauty is in the eye of the beholdermeaning beauty is found in the subjective experience of the one perceiving

Perception is a combination of the subconscious and the conscious

There is primal impulseThere is social and cultural standardThere is rationalization

The experience of beauty is beauty itselfThe beholder is both sender and recipient

Purposeintentionsubstance

Beauty is in the perceivers understanding of these

The cycle of progressiongeneticcultural and hierarchal inheritance

they are maintained by our fear of changeour fear of failure and our fear of success

We are deceived by cognitive associationstrapped between theory and practiceideal and reality

Freedom is the abilityto realize choiceFate is the designof consciousness

PROGRESSION

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LIFE LIFE LIFEOne and only

childish as it may seemwhat can i say I’m a romanticliving in the age of rationality

I’m the the fool who climbs treespicking flowers on the side of the streetthe words “I love you”3 words enshrinedlike crimson pearlsdrink themtaste themfeel themif you want them as much as I can givehow much can you receive?

Somewhere in the mistI feel you behind melocked inside my clockworkahead of me in timeas I inch my way through this thing I call consciousness

You’re a memorya dreamm.i.a realitylost in translation between my words and my actionscoursing through my veinslike some fluid deity

Life, life, life

I am yours until the end of timetake me, mold me,let every atom quiver to the tune of your willand let them diffuse into the vast nothingnessas I spill out the broken odes from my vocal stringsyou are my song, my dance, my loverthe drum that beats in and out of tunethe invisible writer that traces his stories in folded ink on my face

You are my longingreflected in the sea of multiplying facesthe lump in my throat that would loosen if I could only kiss it away

Somewhere behind the barrier of fleshyou sing me arias, petitions, declarationsof beauty in decayyour awesome mystery in plain view

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Because in this metaphysical eden which is the place I come fromthis feeling that birthed me laughing into this worldI have nothing to lose and everything to win

0 is my numberO is the sound of the universe beginningand the only way out is through the way I camelaughing singing dancing crying and screamingas it was in the beginning so it shall be the rest of my days

I’m a crossbreed heathen to all faithsI pledge my allegiance to the muse of inspiration

The pen is my only flag and I will not rest until the red currency searing through these arteries have paid their dues

Love is an army resting in the bosom of every living creature

And those who love are the only soldiers fit for any cause

I’m a sinner in a man’s worldand I think I’m starting to like the tick tock soundof my biological frame shaped like an aerodynamic hourglass

They say history belongs to the winnersbut I love being a loser if the incentive is rightand by right I mean the right kind of wrongthe kind of wrong that means following whatever makes me feel like smoking

You won’t find me on the corner selling what I’ve gotor buying any high other than the natural rushthat priceless tingle that makes a double x chromosome turn from pale to flushed

I’ve got everything I need

And although my pockets are lightthe intonation of my thighsas I close my eyes surrendering to the heathen rhythm of jungle beatsI know I’m too rich to bow to anything but the deep sigh of conquered defenses

It’s a joy and a relief to forget the illusory maze of wordsthat intellectual cage in which we define masculine and femininestrong and weak

AN ARMYLOVE IS

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I’m a dandelion in the breezeone of a billiona proud dimeshuffling timethe stuff life is made ofto fashion wingsof some naive dream

Freedom is freebut the piper likes to playand I live in his domainpulling stringsbehind the curtains of the mundanehis midas touchstretches from a tower of ivory

It’s a dance of chess between whitsand he promises green pasturesas he parades me barefooted on concrete streetsblindfolded I ask him where we’re goingas he hums a familiar tune grinning knowingly

Little girlwhere have you beenhe swirls me aroundeyes as wide as the gates of lifetill the change falls out my pockets along with my keys

Hands tie around my waistforking up the sidesto the back of my neckcaressing and I feel his breathwarm like the monsoon on my facethe smell of pine hits my lungs like a clenched fist

Easy goinghe croons me the words like a mantraa little bit of honey makes the medicine go downa little bit of honeybut why the taste of ashes in my mouth

Tell me strangerwho whispers so intimatelywhere are we goingand what do you want from me?

THE PIPER

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Life as a speeding bulletblood as flowing time

The heart is the beginning and the endThe pulse is a silent melodytransmitting in sonic morse

The music fills every spaceEven in silencethere is no emptiness

We are singular strings in the eternal wave

Love is a frequencybeyond definitionit exists unconditionallyand on its own terms

Life is love itself

LIFE = LOVE

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The heart finds a wayAll questions and answers meet at this point

There is only one loveand it exists within the self

it takes nothingasks nothingit simply is

COMMUNION

I let go my burdento discover my destination

Thankyou for the gift of lifeIt is my holy communionand my one director

It is where I am whole

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Life is a journey

A swerve of momentschoicesflickering before my eyes

I cannot predict the futureI can live in the nowand I can chose my memories

Beware the means of your searchThe truth cannot be found outside of the self

External influence and stimulusmay overwhelm the sensesand mask the intentions of the self

Stimulus as escapismboth pleasure and pain

Forget the known...

To be the line between extremesdismantling the judgement of experience

To let go of knowledgethat which is good and evilthat which is finitethat which is life or deathand simply exist

We are form and functionWe are not sovereigns

THE DECEPTIONOF STIMULUS

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When two eyes meetwhen the vision emergeswhen I and Ibecomes 1there is only I

I cannot fight youit would be denying my self

I have to travel with youthrough my own depthsand rememberwhat is reachingthrough the core

And when I seemyselfI will meet you

I and Iin different forms

Yes II will drink the saltand change the waterhere in meI will stand with youwhere the rain fallsto know what it meansto be spring

I AND I

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One loveis neither naivenor ignorantbut the highest ideal

The greater goodthis can be achievedstep by step

We are on this journey togetherthrough all time

And this worldis our inheritanceand the legacy that binds us unconditionally

We are the onedivided into manyapart we will fail and fall

together we can learntogether we can do more than hopetogether we can acttogether we create the reason for belief

To gatherthe gathering is why we are hereand why we must persist

Because we are meant to perishand we have received the privilegewe owe it to our selfto honor our passage

Through the joining of handsin the pursuit of common interestI meet the divine in manand I gain insight into myself

What matters mostis not the flaws we all possessbut the love that is givenbetween the children of existencein our tolerance and our patiencetowards each other and thus our self

Creationis the one Godand the ultimate love

We are creationsand the goal is to become onewith creationand thus become creators

Mother and fatheryou were children just as I

You were brother and sisterfrom different branchesand I am your seed

Shedding your skintogether you became a tree

Man and woman1 + 1 = 0the ego dismantled

Masculine and femininewe are bothevery one

We must make 1out of both aspectsfinding our corethrough our extremes

Connecting dotsfrom multiple pointswe find the centerand become “I”

I and Iwe are II am we

We are the lastbecoming the first

Realizationis to become primefrom primordialto primalthen primethe height of evolutionboth individual and universal

From masculine and femininecomes strength and tendernesstogether they make wisdomthe treasure of all ages

PRIME