Sunday, April 14, 2013


VENSAN ( Vincent - Vincy ) KAMBERK

When I came to this life
nobody told me to breathe
I just took a breath
all on my own
or... did the breathe take me?.




While humanity grows more and more intelligent
there seems to be more trouble, less happiness
should we indulge into a comprehensive inquiry
we shall discover that in the absence of wisdom
cleverness will bring about a vanity of arrogance
such is the root cause of the misuse of capacity
the negligence of this essential holistic sanctity.

The ego, where all desires and cravings are seated
enslaves the native to the yearning lust of the flesh
thus the reign of calamity and confusion supersedes
the wise have the potential to salvage out of the mire
as are capable to rescue others from troubled waters.

Glory goes to the master of simplicity, modesty and truth
who can bring the entire being to such integral wholeness
the pure nature of the self is the same as of the universe
you will become a better person if you digest this verse
Intelligence is an open wound, wisdom cures the adverse.




It does not have to be a secret to spread

besides with whom do you care to share

those that can handle, who would dare

to sincerely give a darn, really do care.

If all at once the entire truth is spilled

what would happen then and there

upheaval and turmoil, people killed

which might not be possible to evade.

When truth does not have a place to hide

It gets very edgy if nobody is to abide

angst rises over the most reliable side

which makes the journey a perilous ride.

Truth is not much different than a bubble of air

when suppressed, you may not know where

one might assume, it is neither here nor there

but eventually it will brake free and surface.

This may make some cause for grievance

hence most folks are cursory in essence

but if one can climb over the pseudo fence

there will be truth, not nonsense or pretense.


Saturday, April 13, 2013



Both legs out of function

She loves to bake a cake

Her bed is like an oven.

Bulbs for boobs switch on

pair of balls ready to roll

Just about to score a goal.

Brushed off with arm swing

Delight stuck in the throat

Tail squeezed between legs.

The dark bark of a rotten tree

Soft landing feathers sanctuary

A prime spot for fermentation.





They were easing the tensions

by oozing out the inflicted pain

a strike with one hand subdued 

by the gentle stroke of another.

There is humanity in this cruelty

yet humanity is deemed guilty

of harboring so much depravity.


Friday, April 12, 2013


Crab grab
By the looks of it

the indigenous crabs

demand satisfaction

prier to destruction.

When the tide is in

and the time is high

crustaceans gather

for their favored ride.

Worm hole opened wide

eggs hatched side by side

deep inside the sand slide

with nowhere else to hide.

Birds above will take a dive

to have their delicious bite

only those out of sight

will be able to save their hide.



King of Hearts


Open and transparent

rendered defenseless 

trustingly vulnerable

integrity apparent.

Had to sit on nails 

lick wounds in silence 

forced indifference 

in nonchalant eyes 

making invisible tears 

hard to trace. 

Walking a tightrope 

with just the hope

of dealing truth 

out of a deck 

stuffed with jokers 

and wild cards. 

As long as 

the king of hearts 

is somewhere in there 

don't matter where 

as the shuffling is over 

just lay back 

cut the deck

what the heck 

you may still 

get a break.


The Suboriginal Cycle

     Primordial - Primitive - Modern - Post Modern - Visionary.

We are the primitives of future times

Unconscious - Subconscious - Conscious - Alert - Visionary

Lucid Dreaming - Day Dreaming - Deep Dreaming - Awake 

 once the cycle is completed this entire image is conjured.



Where the spontaneous and the conceptual interact

Suboriginal Automatism
Hands move without conscious direction
as eyes analyze  and scrutinize the action.




The Coalescing of the Inner and the Outer 

Suboriginal  Art


Thursday, April 11, 2013




We skin dive through our dreams 

into the ocean of the mind 

where primordial elements are prevalent. 

here, our genetic memory is at our fingertips 

our eyes are open
they guide the hands
there is no premeditation
not a single stroke is foreseen.




The depth of our being encompasses
hidden forces
with the potential of increasing those
on the surface
a means of capturing them
in order to submit them if necessary
to the control of our reason.

At the edge between abstraction and psychic expression
the surface becomes a place for conjuring images.

Hands move without conscious direction
over a blank sheet of paper
 as spontaneous imagery emerges.




When the dark clouds move in
the Moon, the Sun, go to hiding
into a deep sleep, now abiding
a delicate process is unfolding..

I have watched skies bleed
from arrows aimed at dreams
impacting a lightning strike
flash tearing the flesh apart 
scattered clouds in a rush
hovering like dark angels
emerging from tearful sky.

I wish to wash away those memories
I want to forget some things I have seen
I want to whitewash the stains of vanity
at times such an idiot I have been 
for the sake of my threatened sanity.

Those thoughts that mock me way within
causing resentments I don't want or need
wonderful dreams sabotaged by plain envy
waking up to realize that you can't embrace 
whoever, whatever, whenever you might face,

The act of sharing can only blossom 
with the intention of giving
the fun of life is in the here and now 
when working as we are playing
let us let our dreams shine 
reach out to touch the divine
what we have here is just fine
although it is neither yours nor mine.



P U  S  H   and   P U  L   L

Raising an eyebrow then and there

in response to the stiff upper lip

ignoring such determined presence

despise the unreasonable prejudice

to grudgingly oblige the naive subject

reconsider values, making adjustments

as the story goes on, something gives in

the stakes are lowered, the cause altered

brains are rewashed, habits are scrubbed

a new person reborn, with mind wide open

I believe this to be the marvel we are hoping.

Wednesday, April 10, 2013


Fur Beneath the Skin

Layers and layers of memory traces
peeled like skin, removed from flesh
sliding slick, not a drop of blood spilled
as fresh as a close shave on a rough face.
I was preparing the sharing of my thoughts
they were meant to come but never arrived
expecting any time, with the icing beyond 
there was once a sign that this was divine
which I had always considered like mine.
Fur has crawled from underneath the skin
there will be no hiding of recollections here
no untraceable memories, only those akin
they are transparent, you get what you see
in intricate details, which were once within.


Monday, April 08, 2013



Touch and Go -

All I have is just a thread
separating me from here and there
I am holding on to the very end
to the space between birth and death.
Before I let go let me make a go
" One more kiss if you please! ".

I have reached out at standing words
rescued them before they got stranded
I am now all ears at this second calling
a dusty bottle rolling empty on the floor
will serve as a last drop of sustenance
reserved for such a distinct occasion.

Should I disturb this rioting silence
my insertion is out of the very need
to command a demanding attention.
My intervention as a last ditch effort
to loosen up this gathering tension
take it easy, and pray pay no attention.