The Creation

book 1
Mauricio Otero
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Pintura de BasquiatThen, one wonders

My Good, does it make your Evil?

Malign benevolence.

"Or is my Good 'Ours',

and your Evil the same?"

Yes, you, being of beings

come to see us, come;

even though being means not being

even so it throws up before the

damned dizzying nothing:

from thenceforth it will be

Never more the nothing!

Never more nothing plus

giving up

being without eternity!...

Together let's imagine


that imagines itself in the cosmos

as it is imagined

in our time.

Being of beings!

Help existence,

yes, the colossal chance

in which the lovingly burned infinite

is united

with eternity and its Beauty!


Pintura de BasquiatTHE CHILD OF FOREVER...

But I haven't spoken to you of that child

who frightened and crying in terror

of falling

into the nothing,

one night

- night of the night -

would run to his father.

who was reading a universal book,

with the dog-cosmos sleeping sweetly at his feet

and ask

"is it true,... father,

that the cosmos is going to die...,

Pintura de Isabel Aranda *Yto*a monster from my dreams was telling me,

that it is going to col-lapse

that it will generate a 'big crunch'?..."

The troubled father put the universe to one side,

and taking the boy in his arms, told him:

"Come, son, go up to the cosmos, caress it...

and you'll see, you'll see that it is a lie,

no, it will never die."

The little boy, consoled now, curled up

and hugged his cosmic dog, who

waking up

kissed the boy's cold hands and wagged his tail,

amidst dreams...


Pintura  de Isabel Aranda *Yto*FROM HEAVEN TO GAIA

Heaven goes by

crying with joy

all his bonds

making sweet water

his dream...

he has become tired of being imagined

by God;

and now it is he

that imagines God.

In those moments of liberation

he has become naked

and stretched out facing the universe

his lover's look on his creation shivers:


he has realized that he exists

more here than in himself

and he waves in the wind a happy song

that comes to be like his mane

of passionate fantasy...

He orders early mornings on the beach

and his cleansing lyre rings out

over the planets, whose God he is.

He shakes out his last angels

from blue ice;

Now he opens THE SENSES and perceives

the other half

Pintura de Omar Gaticaof being

the centre of cosmosgraphy - (yellow) -

and the juice of illusion waters the gardens

of the hope of new birth,

to feel the unseen

to see the unheard.

He is the king of the worldly universe

because - you must know! -

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