A Solo Exhibition

Draw the sunset together
Add the final touch to the never ending rays
Make the sun smile
And mountains never cover the day


Set the stream free
Let the grass be green on both sides
Add a door that's always open
Without a name, like you've just woken


Where time is still as the cottage
And a shadowless tree is the second home
There on a sheet of paper I lay
Because there's nothing that I need to say

Evolution is dead. It's ghost? What ghost?

Animals evolve to adapt or they become extinct.

What about people?

We stopped evolving since we started to look like this.

For centuries we have only expanded.

Expanded in contraction.

Honesty is tight-rope walking

Ask a bystander, and he'll tell you, the walk is falling.

Humanity is looked up the dictionary

And is mugged up. Not understood.

Chivalry is a paragon of pretence

Nobody waits till the end of the sentence.

These are simple times, with no real yesterday and the same future

Where our innate nature implodes, and our new skin, is what the air adapts to.

We're making history that will not make it to the textbooks 

But the pages of an unburnt novel. 

The other Monroe

When she lifted her skirt
The world was hers to flirt.


She was on glamour dialysis
For her soul it was the chassis.


Damsel is reel life, distressed in real
Except her own, many-a-hearts she did heal.


The world was her pillow, its people all kinds of cotton
Yet the night was a yardley of insecurities unforgotten.


She beat her past to the finish line
And the world lost her in her prime.

The naked tree.

The naked tree.
Most elegant on Earth.
The grace of the swamp.


Estranged lover of yesterday's air.
Falling in love with today's breeze.
It's the highest honesty.


No leaves cover its nascence
and none hide the dark circles.


It is not just a manifestation.
It is God.