Elegance is a Virtue of Deprivation

“Jeune fille inspirée par Cranach” by Pablo Picasso (1949)

Many dead and many injured 

For the unassuming 

Everyday is but a circus

An act balanced on frail shoulders, carries the weight of expectations 

Heed the faces of the pearls 

Chocking on wrinkled necks 

A petition to be freed 

Fall from the five feet of vanity 

An expedition of confinement in contrast 

Being carefree

Is flicking the pearls off the oyster’s face

Into the ocean 

Performance plays itself 

As a treasure chest, suffocates with urgency, contains unfathomable wit  

To confess 

On urgent matters

A will soaks up the scent of his mistress 

For another minute

In golden silk

Gender becomes a social construct 

To fuel

To fulfil

All the expectations of the expectant 

Warrant a sense of purpose

To mimic the nature of the exploitation 
You see

As opposed to the revolution that boils inside the chest of the pearl-wearing 

A one-woman war

Is a sight 

Says the colonel  

Inscribed on the other side of the vanity 

Is a surprise

The lamp stands on a dollar bill

Rhetorical Answers to Unasked Questions

 “Desemparats (Maternité, Mère et enfant au fichu)” (Motherhood) by Pablo Picasso (1903)

Redundancy is the tendency to speak when speech is 

Intolerable 

All babies are born sad by default

The discussion bounces back and fourth, between the two grown adults

Apparently babies are born either sad or happy

All babies are born crying 

Contends one

Exactly, because they are breathing 

Asserts the other

Outside the womb

There’s no room for losing

But if some babies are born happy then surely laughing is also a means for breathing

Right 

The discussion falls flat

Regret is spelt in syllables of self-hatred 

In the other stall

Sported on rustic shoulders are heads 

Heaving in shame 

Entitled to rights 

Unheard of 

Give birth to atomic bombs, in the toilet 

People are a waste of flowers 

Outside a lad’s rolling a cigarette in front of the library, while a phone call interrupts 

A real life conversation

Terminates the laughter of the two companions 

Before inflicting their farewell 

Bet it wasn’t worth it

But who’s called is called 

A company orders their petition 

Offline 

Forced autographs from victims 

Infamous for not being famous

In a state of confound expel thou chewing gum in the recycling bin 

Jeer Society

“Two Nudes” by Pablo Picasso (1906)

Hello to the appetite

Jumbled on ends of the revolting spectrum, to each their own... Thirst and desire

Scoop gently the spoon of the blood gravy
Unwind

A pinch of salt is a pinch too much... Laminate pain with glory

Fold the frown in half

None in particular

Overdo a tongue with tongue twisters

Twist on the tip of the tongue

A greeting reserved for the entitled

Must adhere 

No worshipper yet

The guest arrives before the bell 

The owner greets a grumpy face

Two halves meet in the hallway

A silence spirals

Out of hand

A firm handshake is a formal distinction between friends and family

Choose one only

A fraction to be split

In halves 
Again

A hard bearing

Season the skin with artificial endorsement, of etcetera 

Contrast reality, with expectation

Smear insult evenly, over the soul

Soothe the rash

The oversensitive orders an olive branch off the menu

Only to be disappointed, again

The barking of slurs

In customer complaints

There is no mention of why 

Only who and whom

Void of Concern

“Woman with a Flower” by Pablo Picasso (1932)

The greasing of eyes sore in envy

Are worn by caring too much

For little reason but curiosity is the self-destruction of self-esteem

Disbelief is peculiar

How it launches despair

Oh a despair

Torn to shreds

Soak in bed, a caricature of a man

In tears of jealousy

How bemusing to cry on pleasure

In pleasure there is no time

For care about crying

Somehow, the sinner sleeps better at night

Might you come, crawl into the sheets of the sinner

And sin with them

For yourself

Imagination is a form of freedom, from which there are boundless routes to riddle with

Drive slowly, around the outskirts of the curb  

A daisy dies on the fringe

A harmonica slaughters a nightmare

Nirvana speaks on behalf of the peace of the

Closed eyes

Overdue for a holiday

A farewell is incomplete unless enforced with an embrace

Not all goers are huggers

But the ones who need saving are still looking for theirs

Savior

Behind the garbage dump two felines are making love like a baby crying in its crib

Outrageous hormones

What animals

What hideous crime

The sky is on the verge of collapsing, in regards to the disgrace

It reeks

Quiet and Green

“La Rue-des-Bois” by Pablo Picasso (1908)

There’s a jungle of chili trees outside my window, and they’re all swaying with the wind

Rather than against

Compassion is given through choice

The air is reflective of that

A delicacy, which deceives the oblivious, rather

To the otherwise obvious aftermath of

A burning tongue

Leaves the hair blown against the current

The forecast says sunny

But the sun is being shy

Or attention seeking

Invisible hands

Pluck at the nerves of the tree

A spine plagued by the demands of gravity

If roots are feet the shoes are concrete for they are deprived of the rights

To be free

As a tree

To flee

Upset on earth

A leaf crumbles to the ground

A protest is a sacrifice

And not all require speech

But the wind is loud

Wishing demand and conflict

Stir up a storm with the guts of the tree

A tornado, is perhaps, a magnificent illustration, at the abuse of power

The tree is laughing

And the wind is corrupt

Incompetence is the forecast failing its people

Thus trust is something you teach yourself

In a jungle 

The jungle

What's in a jungle 

Decadent Interactions of the Dire and Dying

“Maya with her Doll” by Pablo Picasso (1938)

A lecture served on a silver platter renders the hungry

Naturally full

A flair for avoiding the unavoidable

Trash on the sidewalks

Subtle enough to slip through the cracks of the people’s ego, and ignorance

Leaves the thief of prosperity with a full smile

In the irony

An eye is of equivalent value to another eye

Of another I

Another ego

In line for some seasoning at the grocery store

An old man gets high on the swings

As children slide down the slopes of their father’s disgrace

An oversized jacket is worn by an underage being

Is living in the state of complete awe

Oblivion is the key ingredient for a good childhood

Mastered by disguise

Deceit and dissatisfaction

Will render a fairy tail

Into a fable

The qualities of which will flip them the other way around

To bite the ego a decade or two later

Assign the definition where the undefined starks debate

Stare into the eyes of the now stranger

A friend a week ago

Not yet an enemy

Just another person who lingers around at the right time and the right location

Responsibility is not an option but a demand

One that binds together many things of which one happens to be

Artificial intelligence

The duty to sustain a lifeless conversation

Will die out eventually 

In states of exhaustion, the superficial is bound to quiver 

Applause the Eloquence of the Atrocious

“La Femme qui pleure” (The Weeping Woman) by Pablo Picasso (1937)

Roll in the drums on this beautiful night and bash the intestines out of the instruments

Of choice

The buskers of the night are the most desperate

Usually needy

But mostly reckless

A body falls out of a garbage can

Under the vast and cold veil 

The leaves of the century old skeleton 

Becomes a cloak 

An empty laneway is home to more than the silence and the absence of human presence  

A centipede crawls on its hind legs

A few hundred before the fore runners

Chaos as a curse

Born in shoes too large to fit, too many to accompany a leg 

With a shoe

A shoe for a what

As a man with too many opinions is bound to lose

How’s it like

To walk in the shoes of fifty odd pairs 

Or to crunch on the bones of the conquered

What is mercy for the powerful that leaves, the vulnerable seeking the validation 

Of whom

Who is born with the privilege to grant mercy

That when the centipede dies

The spokesman pronounces the old idiom, alive  

From the idiot brain, that seizes the stage

The sight of a catastrophe 

Burdens the public 

Inside the stocking of a generic disposition to display oneself

The old cliché is born

The audience weeps in dysfunctional fits of laughter, for the new-now-old 

Saying,

Fracture a leg! 

Waiters Undetectable to the Untrained Eye

“Femme assise” by Pablo Picasso (1946)

Realism suggests that the odds of losing are insurmountable re a deck of cards

Yet the real gambler sees only fifty-fifty of either or

Oblivious to their heart racing 

Keep the fight going 

Only to die on the green table

Where cards are flowers

Burry the spade on which a patch was dug from the velvet garden 

A tombstone that reads wealthy 

In bold, gold, and glitter 

Pleasure now pity; shake hands in shock

Deal a different fate

For those still daring to sit at the graveyard 

A ghost stands on site

Behind the player, dictates and advises, through enthusiastic contention 

With endorsement or hatred

Loathing through useless teeth

Dried lips as per the usual, and fronting the pale green complexion

From the voice box of the player

A microphone of the deceased

Falls from the tip of the tongue, slices the air

Denial is never gone 

Deal with death on a different day 

Flicker the lights for further drama

Now a ghost

An entertainer 

Assume responsibly the new agenda 

Offer generously a sense of humour for the ashamed and dying slowly 

In the conference of calculating the next move

Offer a cold hand 

Never a cold shoulder

A ghost is a guardian 

For the optimistic

Proximity is never the excuse for snobbery 

'The Blind Man's Meal' by Pablo Picasso (1903)

Backstabbing and Treachery

“Man and Woman” by Pablo Picasso (1969)

Once the king ordered his men to summon fourth the thief of the queen’s beloved crown

Before royalty, there was a man in rags

Who sneered like a snake inside its basket

A jewel ripe for a day’s confetti of juice

The wine to bathe the wealthiest of the country 

Pour with consideration 

A poison, so encased with impeccable beauty

Causes ears to flop forward 

In anticipation

A drop is a century’s worth of hardship                          

Manufacture fauna in its genuine form 

The king intoxicates 

The queen screams

The man pleasures himself

On the carpet of the coldest steel

The snake slithers onto the throne

Forge a fence out of the sacred thorn 

An obstacle, to affirm against the illusion of affluence, which will testy against the blood 

Of yesterday 

Riddled with incompetence

Brains are the instruments of control 

Tease the harp in tune with the majesty’s madness 

Utopia is where the suffering ceases to exist 

Sip cobra wine 

Skin snakes with bare hands

Study the menu of endless dining 

Blood on canvas

Order the measurements  

In the palace there are plenty of slaves with all sorts of skill, and sorrow 

But the queen is an animal trapped 

In a human 

Her ears are bleeding, so the king employs 

Harps that are playing to soothe her sore

Violence of a Gentle Nature

“Les Demoiselles d'Avignon” by Pablo Picasso (1907)

Toss a tantrum at dinner and render the diet indigestible 

Emotional vomit is the broth alluded to in the slogan of redundant chefs 

Flee the table 

Before the temper erupts 

And spills

Then spoil innocence with accusation 

Stomach depression with a clenched fist 

Let eyes water in rage and track the clock

Sport a frown 

There’s reservation on speech

No one evacuates the premises before the cloaked skeleton takes his seat 

A supersized rat

Finds his place on the floor

Next to the foot of the all bones and no guts

A coward chokes on maple syrup too sweet for his soul

Soothe the rash with birth control 

The rat squeaks as if laughing

How the rats are laughing inside the house’s skeleton

An empty frame groans during the long winter’s night

A sigh is a sigh regardless of the source

From which it sounds

The rat does not mind a little mould 

A donation is a donation regardless of the recipient 

Charity needn’t a receipt

Or the media’s coverage

The celebrities with courage 

Are the ones who contribute behind closed doors closed curtains and closed mouths

A sight of near extinction

Exposure has always been ecstasy 

In exploitation there’s ought to be a winner regardless of what may come

The rat arrives too late to the party

He throws the tantrum under the table

Thus the feet go juggling the weight of fear

Grieving for Grief

“Two figures” by Pablo Picasso (1904)

Give the patient a piece of the pie

And then inject into the veins of the damned doctor, a dose of their own sarcasm

If exterior is reliable 

Arrogance sits at the core of confidence

Foul 

Existence is for the lower class

Expose in full-force

Money ticks on the wrist

Bulldoze a man’s suffering with some music

If compensation is in a compliment

It better be sincere   

A feminist sobs in the bathroom

Doubt is the weed that roots itself on the premises of belief

Play some music instead

And watch

As the man at the window, plucks at the nerves of Mother Nature

A force whose mercy is the difference

Between life and death

Choose one

And wisely

Death is an inconvenience if accidental

The flowers need time to grow 

For the leftovers

Carry the burden of choice before the shoulders are struck in between

The corners of the wooden box
Dark blue

A jack lies inside

Preserved but still playing

With the hearts of the now once companions

On the other side

Across an invisible border

Cross the bridge 

Reassurance is hearing the song sung

Unforeseen Consequences of Random Conflict

“Woman with Cigarette” by Pablo Picasso (1903)

An understatement is a form of hyperbole

And a hypocrite is a turd

Just so

A turd boiling down the pipes of the scavenger’s feast

Pull from the ceramic bowl a surprise concealed by layers of velvet fabric

Imagination is the means to exceed the ordinary

A flush is a form of relief

Red cheeks and blue eyes are characteristics of the perfect mug shot

If justice is just

Who’s to justify the justice of the judge’s justifications

What’s in a jury that a woman should lay her life inside the palms of such

A snake is a form of amusement 

Except for the vicious and venomous

In a case of being victim, tears are the torture of justice

Advise children against the usage of vulgar language

Only to be sworn at

With malicious contention

Pluck sanity from the adult brain

A seed of the conflict implemented well into the wards of the walnut premises

Water with pride

On a monthly basis

A shower of curse 

See the rage glow

Should steal from the victim the crumbs of sanity

What remains

Is a demonstration

Of the bliss of being pure

Picture perfect

For contrast

The painter abolishes her brush with untold ferocity

Pain is the projection of hyperbole

And peace is founded in the sounds of the waterfall being scrunched 

Swollen

'The Blind Man's Meal' by Pablo Picasso (1903)

Ignorance is a Trait of the too Chicken or Chicken too

“The Roaster” by Pablo Picasso (1938)

Obligation is the act of walking with one’s head on the ground

Shame is the thrust that orders one foot in front of the other

Patterns are part of the routine

Or supposed to be  

Regardless

The pavement is still a host to the stains of the confrontation

In Carlton

Saliva from the demons within

Spill like waterfalls; a disgrace to the fallen

It is alleged

Charity, urgently needed

Hungry, homeless

And hopeful

A catchy slogan

Alliteration is emphasis on important means

Feed apathy with leaflets

Print a plea on paper, and please the regarded with formal titles, rather

Address the indoctrinated with exaggerated respect

There’s a brain whistling slogans of contempt

In these situations

There’s duty and guilt to stir the appetites of starving men

Affluence is offensive

Oneself is a disgusting word:

It is a pity to pity oneself

A pity more to deprive oneself of the joys of doing and sharing

Good is a flaw if to be flaunted

A disgrace

To the standing

The stood up

The stuck up

An invitation to flee and fuck oneself

In one’s own privacy 

One's body is a bag full of shit 

Imposters and the Consequences of Such

“Mother and Child (First Steps)” by Pablo Picasso (1943)

Squeeze through the glass-tiled ceiling

The pentagon slices

A charity of heaven’s delight

Lit at thirty-five degrees per ounce

And a corner

Blinking is a highlight of weakness and is the distinction between mortal and otherwise

An unclassified specifies roams free under the eyes of the scientist

A moving being without a name, is merely curiosity

A name is an establishment

Of identity

Of the feeling of fitting in

A name is a shoe to be slipped into

Thus the baby cries

Thus it roams the world, crawling in accordance with the reluctance to conform

Thus the baby

Is a coat hanger

For conservative justification

A lack of imagination

And a selfish desire

Inherited from generations of domino dealing

A name and a family comes as a package

In which that baby hasn’t a say

But a scream

Perhaps a yawn

And a revolution from which tears are sprung

To sweep the floors with rivers instead

To flee from the institutions of expectation, and duty

A free man is one who roams, on his on will on his own time and on his own terms

Is a fantasy

Wherein phonies are convicted of crime

Colour the scheme with ideals approved of

Those of which are inflicted upon the offspring of the oppressed 

Is depressing 

Shows for Shocking

“The Kiss” by Pablo Picasso (1969)

Impose on the loaded a set of chores, and a ribbon to be tied around the womb

Record the digit

Then measure expectation

Far-fetched from the ideas of the freer than free

A speech is a form of oppression

Remorse is heard through echo

And a call to arms

Untangle the knot around the myth

Those who aren’t born

Are truly free

If oblivion is a measure of wellbeing

Then bliss is a virtue of being informed

There is no place

For therefore

In an opinion

There’s territory only the truly brave will claim for themselves

An excuse to slip from the chains of the circus

The stage of humans

Watched by animals

Rolling in filth

But aren’t filthy

Imagination is for crossing barriers

A slice of heaven

Tied on rings of celebration

Pity is the foundation on which the party strives

The manifesto of a man’s right to forget, was written by a league of legends

Those of whom are dead, in eternity

A myth is a story

And at that it is held

In high accord

An excuse to contemplate the truth
Is a reward
A means of fuelling discussion

Dumping Garbage on the Hostile Front

“Autoportrait” by Pablo Picasso (1901)

A shell bore of the burden found only in the bush

Gives off a fragrance so unfamiliar

Collapses on the fractured man a tonne of the disappointment

The stocking of corrupted men

Comes with a dietary caution

In case of a revolution

Leave the guts out of the confrontation

Season lightly over the bearded gentleman a pinch of the finest salt

Rub fresh, open wounds with tender words and pour over the poison, generously

A guise to escort the oblivion of virgins into submission

Is an opulent show

The opera weeps behind the curtain where it faces a lack of audience and a foul director

Who spits in their hands to remedy a dry scalp

A vision to behold with pleasure

In the disgrace an angel dies mid-air

As the comrades descend in the same frantic motion

Falls off the ceiling with a measure of romance

Cue the saxophone to amplify a mix of conflicted emotion

The violin screeches before its echo is born

The lights lost on an empty seat in the audience as a man hides behind a chair

Cursing on rhythm

Counting the hairs of strangers

On his shoulders behold an odd assignment

Grey hairs are the most delicate, and easy to die

There is a discussion surrounding the existence of a predator

The one who lurks between the legs of children

At the opera

Exploitation almost always makes for an interesting discussion

It’s better to argue from the safe side or encourage from a place of experience, or relief

Insincerity is a specialisation

Only few have really mastered the notion of not giving a fuck

But to give it for free 

Is an opulent demonstration of one's nobility