The Exquisite Corpses at Vizcaya
Poems by
Joseph Abdin • Lennie Adaza • John William Bailly • Maria Victoria Biancardi • Richard Blanco • Dennys Block Nathanael Cameron • Laura Carvajal • Kassandra Casanova Sofia Castellon • Melissa Garcia • Albany Gonzalez • Reinaldo Gutierrez • Cecilra Herran • Trevor Holden • Amanda Johnston • Victoria Lopez-Trujillo • Sabrina Lima Alejandro Lugo • Isabella Marie Garcia • Christina Melendez Carolina Menache • Isabella Montes • Benjamin Obando • Arina Polyanskaya • Melanie Ponce • Rachel Puentes Nicholas Ramirez • Aaron Rodriguez-Pupo • Danielle Ruiz Samantha Sahami • Dria Thomas • Stephanie Villavicencio • Jonah Wichterich
Prepared and Organized by Aaron Rodriguez-Pupo
Index
To Vizcaya
Reflections in the Garden
The Bitch on the Barge
Dionysus and the Dancing Fauns
Echoes in an Empty House
To Vizcaya
Never-ending Journey A new place with new ideas,
Away from familiarity
I could only see what’s across the sea
And could only think of what I left behind
Going Somewhere? How can one psychologically settle into one place, when transience is ubiquitous?
So many places to travel and dream of
Through memories and forgotten stories,
They haunt me as I walk through
Although not certain, I will go. I will do.
So Many Things, So Little Time Timelines engulfed by their passing,
Their passions led their journey
Out of wedlock—out of country
Disowned and thrown away
A taboo against the world, the apple of Eden.
Vizcaya The gem of South Florida.
Across the bay
Knives tear apart the curtains,
Trees tear apart the concrete.
Reflections in the Garden
The Reflection Gazing across the Courtyard I see a butterfly fluttering by Landing in the garden Like an alien spring—we felt only greenery Crashing about us in a storm of leaves and flowers.
Weary Stone Paths Cobblestone paths are like a never-ending story of our lives.
Their worn stones eroded by the ghosts of those crossed it once, twice,
Thrice leaving forward.
The bright memories of childhood
Suppressed by time.
No Nucleus At a place full of hope
Where the brim of the ocean tips its hat
Empty inside
Barren Womb
But maybe, I think, it shouldn’t have happened anyway
Symmetry is Not a Focus The trees sway as god inhaled and exhales
Circulating beauty through his lungs
Breathing the foliage to life.
Within my eyes, behold
The sight of a fair, deflowered maiden in the haven of green.
What Was I lost my way in the gardens
But I do not mind.
Serious interruptions lack,
No words to describe
Empty feelings of sadness, just memories that reside.
Red The flowers painted the garden
The dazzling colors of the rainbow.
After rain has showered the garden, Sunlight reflects from the mirrors of nature
As it shines on its beauty
Freedom Sunlit bay from a limestone barge That floats impossibly Woven through shallow ripples Surrounded by nature, green as to pure The Hell-hole.
The Bitch on the Barge
Overlooking the Ocean I put your figure on a barge but noticed something saucy about your breasts. The treasure of beauty disagrees with the sinfulness of vulgarity. Beautiful women do not have to hide, Beauty is not about what is outside but what lies within.
Make Those Breasts Smaller Is it really necessary, to have them that large? Exposing volume to the world— Our desire overruled our morals like too much sugar in café con leche. Soaked to the bite.
Surgery I’m insecure. Don’t know what for. Whatever they’re for, I don’t want them on my barge. What is the purpose, to glorify a whore? She changed her ways, never looking back
Saucy Bitch Don’t call me that You have no right to speak You lost that when you chose to leave Thinking it wouldn’t change anything But a door has been opened
Femmes Frail? Fatale. Strong. Alive. A plethora of emotion etched on their faces, wisdom beyond their age. Their fairness and compassion…one like no other. Women scattered throughout Vizcaya.
Dionysus and the Dancing Fauns
Enmeshed How can so many different things come together so well? Life is full of impossibilities. It’s impossible to lace dead material Woven to branch alike Together we can conquer all
God of Things Furrowed brows overlook the green horizon of Vizcaya. Indulged in rich wine and savory tastes, I savor the gifts of this hour Indulging all of my senses And a wave of pleasure finally coursing through me
Dancing Faun Pinky toes Always smell The flowers begin to bloom, Children burst in laughter as they speed through the garden Though they nothing of what was, only what is.
Evil’s Within A baby born at a point in time Unaware of her destiny Unaware of the people with her Unaware of how different she is from them She gallops away into the sunset
Shrubs Look like Pubes Trimming the hedges of her valley She seeks to find what was lost Passion and calculation will be of the utmost importance. But we are slaves to the garden, so who is really in control? The control of nature is what life is really about.
Wealth An empty pocket But filled with doubt The way velvet doesn’t touch its own beauty Its opulence permeating the air The feel of its grandeur alive forever.
Momentous Absurdity I paint you in this curved dream Every curve to detail Wealth is the false illusion of happiness Always wanting more The softness of skin, a sin of the flesh, will never be mine.
Gold Plates Serving others without reason, Wanting everything, asking for nothing. Don’t ask, don’t tell. But then again, what is owed to this person? The servant owns the land they work. The Owner owns an idea.
Echoes in an Empty House
The Secret Passage Each room a different dimension Fabricated in silk To show off to the world My greatest journey Climbing mountains, swimming in ravines, and chasing sunsets.
Well Fuck As I hold my cold champagne Thoughts of my past present and future flood my mind— Merriment, luxuries, and laughter are all but a memory. Fleeting interactions that hold no significance A mode to escape from everyday monotony.
Trial by Fire Traversing the great seas, in search of a new land With so much abundance to be found, what will we find? Is it desperation of some kind? Mistaken for a craving, The yearn to fucking ruin everything that’s not yours.
Tainted His hands have crafted a mismatched portrait. Hands that shake from a loss of control— Eyes darting back and forth, Sweat rolling down our necks, cold and slimy, as we stand in awe and fear. We must look past the surface and look deep inside one’s heart.
Caravels Flying Through the Sitting Room I want this in my music room. I don’t care that it is an antiquated piece of history that doesn’t belong. It is beautiful…it speaks to me, a velvet-voiced oracle within the canvas says so much and nothing at all.
Razed from the Ashes But I am not the phoenix Known as the melting pot of the world I can’t help but feel the heat Of other’s anger dying throughout the years Until no voice is heard and the fire has ceased
Stained Glass A quilt of colors Stitched and intertwined Like a Frankenstein creation, Like a recipe that was created by God— A recipe that will remain inextricable for all of time.
A Look Out As I look out at the land I developed Its beauty overwhelms me Yet underwhelms Deep in my mind I wish there was more The beauty inside reflects art, reflects heart
Miami in Miami 