"The MAG"

ANNY BALLARDINI

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HERE

Here

back and again

that shadow in the frame

down on the portrayed cave

whispering behind your back

clearly seen in front

or sliding sideways

or preceding somewhere

materialized thoughts

projections of many

my head

slammed against the marble

a fountain inside falling

hyper sensitized hyper viper

high

the tide of outgoing students

rafting for better notes

in your brain cells

to the hands of a colleague:

_How much better I am_ she says

to the devastating force

of neighboring uncivilized drains

_money_ call out the most

this June in the heat of hell

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BIRTHDAY

do you know of the perfume of the gardenia

of the small light in the dark in front of the pc

of the tree whispering and whispering in the wind

and the breeze with the cigarette and a slight pain in your leg

the electric being as a chrysalis in a shell

and the thunder distracting the vise in right side of your head

of the stars high above and planets looking down

of a friend of all those friends and alone

while you take out of the fridge the cheese for the toast

and to plan tomorrow you remember your skin elastic in the light

after the water whirling all around with the taste of sweat of its salt

do you know of the world and of its past and those books

and those images running in your eyes you keep fixed

through glasses here and now to see the lightning flashing

down straight to your left as if you caught it with your hand

and t! he sense of full and the sense of void

alternating methodically inclement in their quick natural flow

do you know of coincidences - oh what a coincidence

déjà vu - mais bien sur! and a mail brings you back to you

your Sun has returned and it joins your two other stars -

you A R E

and you can feel you are made one by the Sun

just in the middle of the night its intensity so strong

you could do without food and you are moved to the beauty

of that eternal love which moves the spheres all so tangibly right.

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MOVING CANVAS
(my DIVINE COMEDY)

once suspicion´s been taken away

metamorphosis

is left

to re/- move the continuous delirious state

of being a victim of others´ manipulating faiths

the canvas is lying on the floor

above it marble powder mixed with glue & water

will be laid

acrylic colors & another hand of the previous mix

will make it hard enough to let it there

part of the floor

– earth – hell –

opposed to

ceiling – sky/air – heaven

flames

burning at the opening

some gasoline will be sprayed on the surface and lit

they´ll limb the sky

deconstructing the image

pieces to be inserted:

bad neighbors

(for the art work´s decency camouflaged in serpents

one eating the other)

in an ethereal cloud

Saint George himself floats in the air

only his spear has a material consistency

the power of the dumb:

blocks of concrete

so stiff they crumble

still the bulge´s there stuck

the stench of towns

for every one its own

unbearable from the start

hospitals dizziness slumber - slumber dizziness hospitals in a Dedalean detailed enlarged Escherean entanglement insects viruses cockroaches bathtubs dolls cars plastic bags books paintings trips fireplaces golden knobs lamps all covered by mould –

rusted away

HOLOGRAPHIC COMPOSITION

ZIGZAGGING THE ROOM

CUTTING IT IN HALF

PURGATORY

from hell to purgatory

monsters

with bleakish eyes

are transmuted into holographic mutable images

white / sudariums gothic graves sheets cubes pebbles

FRESCOED vaulted CEILING

HEAVEN

a fresh beer when thirsty you get home at night finished work and can go to sleep

a shower

warmth

wind

the water of the ocean on the shore

the sound of the ocean

the wind of the ocean

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CARDBOARD COFFER

Round circle the wind and the sounds

of those distant times when I was one

1 cake 1 candle on the roof of the house

smile they said & smile I did the gallery a row

of happiest smiles life a parade of white fluffy lies

my mother introversively smiles

a teenager with a white apron

looks like a model the thin she is

my father

_the most handsome guy in town_

seems my mother´s father

but that´s after the war on their wedding day

my grandfather at the celebration

an old old man among Boccaccio´s characters

stares amazed right at the camera

and I´m sure someone told him:

“They´re taking your picture, smile’

and I´m sure he answered,

“I know that´s why I´m looking at them’

round circles down the tail of the dragon

distant dates and unknown faces

1947 – 1934 – 1927 - 1915

all smiling and smiling

fading away

m.a.g.