“When does real love begin?
At first it was a fire, eclipses, short circuits, lightning and fireworks; the incense, hammocks, drugs, wines, perfumes; then spasm and honey, fever, fatigue, warmth, currents of liquid fire, feast and orgies; then dreams, visions, candlelight, flowers, pictures; then images out of the past, fairy tales, stories, then pages out of a book, a poem; then laughter, then chastity.

At what moment does the knife wound sink so deep that the flesh begins to weep with love?

At first power, power, then the wound, and love, and love and fears, and the loss of the self, and the gift, and slavery. At first I ruled, loved less; then more, then slavery. Slavery to his image, his odor, the craving, the hunger, the thirst, the obsession.”
— Anaïs Nin, “Fire: From “A Journal of Love”
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"

What’s Genocide?

their high school principal
told me I couldn’t teach
poetry with profanity
so I asked my students,
“Raise your hand if you’ve heard of the Holocaust.”
in unison, their arms rose up like poisonous gas
then straightened out like an SS infantry
“Okay. Please put your hands down.
Now raise your hand if you’ve heard of the Rwandan genocide.”
blank stares mixed with curious ignorance
a quivering hand out of the crowd
half-way raised, like a lone survivor
struggling to stand up in Kigali
“Luz, are you sure about that?”
“No.”
“That’s what I thought.”

“Carlos—what’s genocide?”

they won’t let you hear the truth at school
if that person says “fuck”
can’t even talk about “fuck”
even though a third of your senior class
is pregnant.

I can’t teach an 18-year-old girl in a public school
how to use a condom that will save her life
and that of the orphan she will be forced
to give to the foster care system—
“Carlos, how many 13-year-olds do you know that are HIV-positive?”

“Honestly, none. But I do visit a shelter every Monday and talk with
six 12-year-old girls with diagnosed AIDS.”
while 4th graders three blocks away give little boys blowjobs during recess
I met an 11-year-old gang member in the Bronx who carries
a semi-automatic weapon to study hall so he can make it home
and you want me to censor my language

“Carlos, what’s genocide?”

your books leave out Emmett Till and Medgar Evers
call themselves “World History” and don’t mention
King Leopold or diamond mines
call themselves “Politics in the Modern World”
and don’t mention Apartheid

“Carlos, what’s genocide?”

you wonder why children hide in adult bodies
lie under light-color-eyed contact lenses
learn to fetishize the size of their asses
and simultaneously hate their lips
my students thought Che Guevara was a rapper
from East Harlem
still think my Mumia t-shirt is of Bob Marley
how can literacy not include Phyllis Wheatley?
schools were built in the shadows of ghosts
filtered through incest and grinding teeth
molded under veils of extravagant ritual

“Carlos, what’s genocide?”

“Roselyn, how old was she? Cuántos años tuvo tu madre cuando se murió?”

“My mother had 32 years when she died. Ella era bellísima.”

…what’s genocide?

they’ve moved from sterilizing “Boriqua” women
injecting indigenous sisters with Hepatitis B,
now they just kill mothers with silent poison
stain their loyalty and love into veins and suffocate them

…what’s genocide?

Ridwan’s father hung himself
in the box because he thought his son
was ashamed of him

…what’s genocide?

Maureen’s mother gave her
skin lightening cream
the day before she started the 6th grade

…what’s genocide?

she carves straight lines into her
beautiful brown thighs so she can remember
what it feels like to heal

…what’s genocide?
…what’s genocide?

“Carlos, what’s genocide?”

“Luz, this…
this right here…
is genocide.”

"
“What’s Genocide?” by Carlos Andres Gomez (via fivedoorsdown)

(via fivedoorsdown)


3 weeks ago

descepter:

How The Face Changes With Shifting A Light Source

(via loneliest)


vert-ex:

v

definitelydope:

losing myself (by jane_hughes)

3 weeks ago

indianbiatch:


Confessions is a public art project that invites people to anonymously share their confessions and see the confessions of the people around them in the heart of the Las Vegas strip.

I EAT TOO MUCH CHEESE

(Source: fredydecisive, via babyvoices)




(by alice.calypso)

definitelydope:

By Januz Miralles

1 month ago

les-sources-du-nil:

Karen Divine

Nude 200a

(Source: karendivineblog.com, via tiredexplorer)

les-sources-du-nil:

Karen Divine
Nude 200a

1 month ago

fuckyeahthenational:

Fragmentation by Bohyun Yoon

2003
Dimensions Variable
Materials: live models, plexiglas mirror

Project Venues:
2003 Woods-Gerry Gallery, Rhode Island School of Design, Providence, RI

There are unlimited numbers of reflections of truncated legs, torsos, and arms, which visually connect and create a linear pattern. This provocative image of the depersonalized body is juxtaposed with the development of modern science that enables people to alter their appearance through surgeries or cloning.

The cover art for The National’s upcoming album “Trouble Will Find Me” is a cropped and rendered image of this picture from artist Bohyun Yoon’s installation piece titled Fragmentation.

For their last album, “High Violet”, The National used sculptor Mark Fox’s piece titled The Binding Force.

fuckyeahthenational:

Fragmentation by Bohyun Yoon
2003 Dimensions Variable Materials: live models, plexiglas mirror
Project Venues:  2003 Woods-Gerry Gallery, Rhode Island School of Design, Providence, RI
There are unlimited numbers of reflections of truncated legs, torsos, and arms, which visually connect and create a linear pattern. This provocative image of the depersonalized body is juxtaposed with the development of modern science that enables people to alter their appearance through surgeries or cloning.

The cover art for The National’s upcoming album “Trouble Will Find Me” is a cropped and rendered image of this picture from artist Bohyun Yoon’s installation piece titled Fragmentation.
For their last album, “High Violet”, The National used sculptor Mark Fox’s piece titled The Binding Force.

theme