Licet Romero stands behind her painting she created for the Visions of Words poetry event.
Story by Portia Choi
Photographs by Ezekiel Espanola
It was a celebration of the arts in the sculpture garden of The Arts Council of Kern on April 21, 2017. There was art inspired by poems, and a poem inspired by art. There were two poets who displayed their art work.
Danny Martinez wrote a poem about feeling deserted. The artist Licet Romero said she was inspired by the words to paint a large fetus. Towards the end of the poem, Martinez writes of wars and how we are connected at the human level.
The lines from the poem reads,
“Same heart,
Same blood,
And all from an egg.”
Untitled
By Danny Martinez
Welcome to this special presentation,
Locked within a cell without prison inhalation,
Deception facing black curtain drop mind erasing,
To the zombie apocalypse of which mankind is pleased to choose,
Phones, IPads and TVs to form our views,
Thoughts outside the box are shot down and resisted,
Every soul in four corners are expert politicians and gifted,
Only shown what they want,
Not from the puppet we see,
The man behind the curtain let loose and deceive,
Never stand down!
Load up the REVOLUTION!!
To see the real clear depth of the sky,
And wipe out the pollution,
Institutionalized without bars in our face,
Back and forth on wars on depictions of race,
Same heart,
Same blood,
And all from an egg,
United as one is correct spawn as a pledge,
Our thoughts must be found and not pulled from the clown,
Resuscitate the brain and don’t let it be drowned,
Brenda’s baby is where we can never be found…
DESERTED!
Shanna O’Brien, who has entertained internationally, performed her songs at the event. She is also an artist. She is pictured standing between two of her paintings. One of the songs she sang was “We are One.”
Musician and poet Shanna O’Brien stands between two of her pieces at the Vision of Words poetry event.
We Are One
Lyrics by Shanna O’Brien ©2015
We are one light, one heart, one love.
We are one.
Everybody’s different
Everyone’s unique
Some considered normal
Some considered freak
One thing we have in common
I think you will agree
We’re each a drop of water in a never-ending sea
We are one light, one heart, one love.
We are one.
Even though we’re different
The truth is we’re the same
Cause deep inside each beating heart burns a little flame
A flame that’s been ignited by a spark from something higher
We’re all just little flames in this great ball of fire
We are one light, one heart, one love.
We are one.
Every day’s a journey to the limitless unknown
We’re on this road together, no one is alone
Some of us are running some are walking slow
But in the end we all get there and then we know
We are one light, one heart one love
We Are One.
Greg Stanley is a poet and an artist. He said, “I began writing poetry, limericks, in high school.” He began painting after receiving a paint set from his mother who also painted. Here are two examples of his poems and art. More of his poems can be found on PoetrySoup.com.
Green Eyes and Pigments
Greg Stanley created a poem and painting inspired by the green color of his cat’s eyes. He read the poem and showed the painting at the Visions of Words event.
By Greg Stanley
Look in my green eyes, what do you see?
Is it something before or after me?
If only you could understand what I have to say.
All of you are the same… acting in the same play.
Not so different from one another.
But simply blends of the same color.
You are sienna, whether from Africa
China, Russia, North and South America.
Borders are division created through arrogance,
Thus, so many not given the chance.
All have the same goals… the same dreams,
But using the same damn machines.
How I know this, you ponder why?
Does it really matter, must I clarify?
Evolution has built you over millions of years,
Over that time, independent thought disappears.
No one is better… no one is worse
Every one of you is on the same course.
So please understand to make it safely to the end
A mix of Love and Kindness is the perfect blend.
Greg Stanley performs at the Visions of Words event.
Mother Earth (Re-Birth)
By Greg Stanley
While standing in a field gazing the sky above
I pondered all the things we are made of.
Then a bright light flashed through the sky
How did we begin, what is the reason why?
Four and a half billion years objects fall to earth
Some believe seeded life or created its birth.
By placing amino acids in the primordial ooze
The building blocks of life… but who’s?
We find these black stones… hold in our hands
Put on our shelves and display on our stands,
Mother Earth (Re-birth) by Greg Stanley
Each has an attraction one cannot explain
To desire and study the minerals they contain.
Do you ever wonder if we’re here for a purpose?
Or is someone watching us performing in a circus?
And did they shower us with all this matter?
Letting it dissipate in such random scatter.
Perhaps it was planned or just an… “oops”
As he never meant to send in the troops.
If that is so perhaps more will fall
Beginning a re-birth and destroying us all
I see another flash and many more still
Then a blinding glow just behind the hill
I remember nothing, nothing at all after that
As I lay in the grass still on my back
Then a bright light flashed through the sky
How did we begin, what is the reason why?
Mateo Lara performs at the Visions of Words event.
Mateo Lara’s poem “Neon Candles” inspired Jesse Lemus’ to paint “A Whispered Summoning.” Lara is author of two books of poetry, Keta-Miha and La Futura Tuga. Lara said, “Tuga is sadness in Croatian.”
Neon Candle
By Mateo Lara
you’re staining the room with your electric blue sadness,
and last night around 4 in the morning,
You rustled around with maroon stained hands,
and told me to turn on the lights,
so I could see the silver tips you wore.
you kissed the angel of bitterness,
and I sat in the darkness for weeks.
I guess this was the last of it,
these candles, these bleeding memories,
on my shoulders and the burning of this bed,
the one where you laid out all your secrets,
on the white sheets that glistened in violet lust filled ink stains,
of the past, of yesteryear, you tell me not to come here or else there will be agony,
you took me in with your golden fingertips,
and told me to pretend the universe was way bigger than any of this,
so don’t dwell,
but I do dwell,
and we’re just as big as the splitting of the stars,
and the death and crash and burn of something,
being sucked into the black hole.
I am oblivion from every piece of me you stole and were unaware of,
I am chaos on your fury tongue, every dripping name,
has stretched before me like a carpet of rage,
and I stain you with tundra blue and midnight red,
I see the orange nova of the end and the pink sweet gin,
I am in place for you, when you leave,
You show me all the blazing glory of the neon soul,
before you go and I am without you now.
I lit the match of aftermath and shed my skin to sleep,
I whispered your name once or twice for a summoning,
and lit candles as the yellow embers led you out of my dying light.
When you blew me up into crackling purple smoke.
Diana Ramirez performs at the Visions of Words event.
Diana Ramirez is the co-planner for the “Visions of Words” event. She also imagined then produced “Words Come to Life,” an event where art inspired by poetry was displayed at The Metro Galleries in Bakersfield. Poets recited their work at the event. Ramirez’s poem, “I Am Frowned Upon,” inspired Cuca Montoya to create a photographic collage.
I Am Frowned Upon
By Diana Ramirez
(an excerpt from poem)
I am frowned upon,
My choices are frowned upon,
My actions are frowned upon,
All because I have a vagina,
A birth canal to which life is born,
And a moist admission to which you moan,
Entrance accessed,
Perhaps entranced
by my rapture,
Yet I am the one captured
By the whispers,
By the faces that stare with disdain,
. . .
Frown upon me you might,
But I have been created to create,
And you were born to see the light,
In me,
In her,
Strong,
Stronger,
Strongest,
And our story
Is the longest
Ever told,
And I refuse to be a mold,
Molded in the image that man has sold.
Thomas Lucero painted this painting of Budda.
A painting by Thomas Lucero was displayed at the event. Portia Choi, one of the planners of the event, was inspired to write a poem. Choi had asked Lucero if he had a painting of the Buddha. This inspired Lucero to do the painting. An earlier version of the following poem was recited at the event.
Siddhartha Transformed
By Portia Choi
Siddhartha in lotus repose,
palms touching in mind and heart,
soles raised in gratitude.
He was grooving with his brother, the Bodhi tree.
The past was a mist-the castle, wife, feasts.
He lived the rock years of self-denial and hunger.
Now sitting and breathing,
no thinking, no eating.
An orange cloth loosely covering a being of light.
The energy oozing from all pores.
Effulgence flowing, the cosmic Om.
Buddha sat in silence, in nonattachment,
of oneness to serve all beings.
