Video Installation at The Stash Gallery at Vout-o-Reenees
4A February, 2017
POLITICS OF MOISTURE
Night-time screening at Siger Gallery's pop-up event
Screening experiments by Jon Baker
Video-poem: 4A February
The sun in the sunset entered low warmed up the duvet lit up the fine skin of eyelids has woke me by surprise from my sleep of not waking. Eyes tightly shut, I see the colours that radiate between the green before incandescent and the dark after reddening like saying: - How are you? To show my gratitude I offered my tears. So viscous they have brightened up the shine. So sharp that it’s blinded my sight. It did not linger I blame ever returning clouds in the instant I desired: - Be timeless to me. I do not know as it went without being seen Soon the silence arrived First loud then noisy Giving me no chance I got up.
Your demons in my darkness. Words cut Tears bleed before the pain Red and fresh without a cry. Cut, blood, relief Your poems feed passion Sad deliriums relieve Memories insult your pleasure Someone else’s tears have no colour. Cut, blood, relief You made me your reflection Reason sinks when water falls Which swimming cannot reach. The fall punishes without remorse. Cut, blood, relief Near but deep. With no breath, I drown Wanting to return without cuts And leaving behind my patient. Cut, blood, relief Before envy did not exist I swallow my words Cut and bleed Love consents and accepts. Cut, blood, relief My body, your circus, my sex live in my darkness. Your fantasies visit the envy for others more dear. Cut, bleed, relieve me.