 Photography by Reka Jellema. August 2014. Untitled. This flesh I found,
a fresh spot in the sonorous decay, in rotting paint, the kind that strips down to bare plaster at a wink and balks when you eyeball a window pane or lick graffiti from a fence -- You know of what I speak, O soulful derelict, my mate-- The sort of wall that crumbles at a touch, moans a little much for the slump of the over-stuffed love seat: This is our place. A petrol hole We filled our tanks surveyed the mileage, held fast to the knowledge nothing is useless. Scrap metal and street chalk, a dust bin frottage mounted on remembrance. We like to look. We like to look, to book a flight Below us, sprawled in neon light Erotic City, a homing device Or so the rumours murmur, mouthing and lapping one another slick and sticky with what may or may not be. Inspired by the words and art of Louis Hawkins By Reka Jellema October 2014
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 Photo art by Reka Jellema. September 2014. Untitled. The Cave Divers
Slanting shaft of light, spear the rocks And chink the porous coral-rivered sea Guise the gelatinous mass of blue So what we see is fanciful: Three cubs And a bear on the hunt for food A white dwarf star that lost its place In the cosmos A hammerhead maneuvers, descends Through the murk As divers shimmy, bodies sleek as seals Illumine the deep, her constellations Of caverns And men of the cave, divers Clung to the precious last of their breaths As urchins put all that faith in their tests Slow and as sure As geology's long howl into the void Written with Brendan Bonsack By Reka Jellema and Brendan Bonsack September 2014 
Installation art, Encirclement, by Beili Liu. Photo by Tina Chang. 2012.
Installation art, Encirclement, by Beili Liu. Photograph by Tina Chang. 2012
The gathering is key
Plumaceous feathers By the crowds Clouds of cotton Plucked from loam A woman willing And a satin sheet Where do we go So fluffed and so unwoven We travel On a foam of down Traverse the hillocks And the mounds Of mannequins Carpet them in blossom And every softness Carries in it The prickle of the nettle's Sharp retort A sudden clap resounds And then we move Into the thistle barbs So still in our encirclement And calamus costumes Look at us -- our eyes They sweep the audience When all have gone The artist comes Triumphant with a duster And reviews Reworks The actualities We occupy as muse And as creator Existing only Where assemblies Can see us Each one of us becoming More, in contemplation Of the other, we are Flagrant in desire Written with Kathryn Ross By Reka Jellema and Kathryn Ross September 2014 
Photograph Untitled. Taken at ArtPrize, Grand Rapids, Michigan. By Reka Jellema. 2010.
once you made a line
a line wandered grew a skin no topography nobody had seen before how fine twas said a gourd, a cake of cheese imprisoned in a square life stilled this spirit seized a thing possessed this work some sighed -- nothing like it Exorcise colloquial a jug to raise and drink, framed behind a glass one chained the piece to keep it safe and safe it ever was how fine some asked is fine art -- the stuff regurgitated and swallowed on view like the body in the box but paler By Reka Jellema September 2014 |
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