Howdy!
Back in July Pouèt-cafëe launched issue 8 here at the gallery. During the proceedings they managed to write a collective poem that was based on the art work up on the walls here by Toly Kouroumalis. If you are interested in reading it click here.
Be forewarned it is a French Poem, for those of you who are square-heads, I will get the blokespeak translation from Babelfish:
Sensual and marvellous gallery
the tables inspire an extraordinary basket to us d imagination. Let you go by l'imaginaire of l'au-beyond!
* * *
surrealist Rob Zombie was present
it will remember this fellatio
Christ gave her rod
a feeling to however demolish bonds
blood invites us to this ball of the waked up bodies...
* * *
Blood vibrates with the sound of the pain.
Moments of be delirious colors,
which howl:
"C'est long, now!
C'est when, death?
C'est when, calms it?... "
* * *
These macabre faces
with the hot colors
look us with
these eyes malefic
which see us, see, see!
* * *
Death howls its desire with the life -
Its desire of dance, of music
of poetry, d'amitié. (JKB)
* * *
Red blood, demonic faces
Here is, the black which circumvents
Our beings and l'étourdissant
In a bursting, a howl
One sees strange
Nuit blackness
Veiling my saddened face. (Cathou)
* * *
Suffering electric and sarcastic
Reddish, scarlet, and almost
Nothing, looks at there! the suffering
Look at the evil censured dirtiness,
listen to scarlet misfortune by-there for black. (Roger)
* * *
your narrow centres
pour red équimauves on the
children of Satan your crack succumb to sweats
of craters.
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