A sort of pain without pain.
Something open, flesh-coloured.
A delirium of love, but normal.

We reached up to the limit of almost everything
and we found almost nothing,
that is why we are normal.

Eventhough everything turns out or breaks into fragments,
writing is always light.
I feel that I'm too closely watched as to fly away,
nevertheless, some day, I will fly.

Menassa reciting Poetry (1.08 min.)

Darling,

I'm being cornered by drive. From one side and the other. In all my  places there is pleasure for me. That makes the question more difficult,  because in me, it isn't pleasure which decides.

Menassa reciting Love letters (0.38 min.)

CERO CLASSROOM OF FRENCH

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Enough of love, this means that positive results can also be obtained by diverse roads which are not necessarily love.

When the result is negative or little beneficial, the candidate has already said no to many roads.

That is why it is worthless to try other roads, the candidate should be  changed.] 

We have to get rid of old ideologies.
The power given by money is not for everybody,
but neither do potatoes and they are much cheaper.
There is something which should be led in the world,
but that is not in me.

Menassa reciting Psychoanalysis (1.21 min.)

 

EACH ONE WITH THEIR FAMILY
AND HE WHO HAS NO FAMILY IS SAVED

To fuck is to fuck and, to woman, to man, that is completely worthless. To fuck is a thing about the specie. It must be for that reason that everyone does it and no one can't stand it completely.

Menassa reciting Eroticism (1.31 min.)

What do you think?

Pornography   or     Eroticism

So far people have voted:

Pornography: 221.000                                    Eroticism:377.000

 

We must live,
we must live,
how should we live?

She knits
and doesn't undo
her impossible knot stitches.
She manufactures restlessly
her final entanglement.

If we let her do
it is
to see her die,
lover of knot stitches,
of miscalculations.
She knits,
I said,
and doesn't undo her knitting,
she really doesn't know what she does.
To exist,
she exists.

Her dilemma:
to live.
Despairing,
despairing,
to alter the last senses
will be
almost impossible.
Our body will say no,
each time of our body,
will be again
the same time,
that time.
To write only,
to die only,
warm promises.
To flee,
let time
-ferocious wind,
incalculable-
traverses my nothingness,
my final wish.

I am,
now,
pierced by an illusion,
power of powers.
Vital sap made musty,
in the very centre of my being.
Opaque marvel,
misery and solitude,
a reciprocal encounter.
Her and him
have
the same rights.
Let them die together.

          Menassa reciting Some politics and garbage recollection (3.17 min.)
                ( Don't get desperate while downloading the video)

LETTERS FROM THE EDITOR

Thunder over the waters of a pond,
Everything will change
and there will be no error.

High currents swing my being from one side to the other.
What must be modified is the famous principle of reality.
Without a radical modification of what is good and what is bad,
what is useful and what is useless,
there will be no possibility of travelling.

The nets of the systems
are not only invisible
but, also,
powerful.

Menassa reciting Letters to the editor (0.49 min.)

 

Indio Gris

*Recomendamos que actualice su reproductor Windows Media.

   THIS MATERIAL WAS RECORDED LIVE IN THE SPACE
 "AWAKENED POETS"
 THE PAST MAY, 23^TH, 2004
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