1. |
Lunatic Children
03:35
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LUNATIC CHILDREN
(Rômulo Ballestê)
See my opaque eyes shattered across the floor
Hear my mute scream in the shadow swaying across the wall
Lunatic thoughts from a lunatic humankind
Candid child sweetly forsaken upon the spirals of it's own hands
The windows of my senses are locked
I feel my skin
It’s turned into my mutilated body
I'm not blind, it's much worse, I'm alive
I live as a prisoner inside my own world,
My mouth is turned inside
The silence of brutal unreason is imposed
Words, I unbosom them only to myself
My vomit denounces the loathe for your gestures
I'm the error denied
Endure your own sores
The meaning of my insistence is to evidence
The mistake and uselessness of your existence
Before the human dread in realizing one's life
I seek way a of contact - desperate way
with external reality:
I defecate on your bashfulness
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2. |
Anomalies Museum
04:33
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ANOMALIES MUSEUM
(Rômulo Ballestê and Luiz “Cliff” Dorea)
An impetous glance you throw at
These ignominious feats
From unowed icons, whose persuasive senselessness
Thus sip that ordinary plasm
Building smiles, from blackened complacent gums.
Abject species once collected now live in crystals
Which keep morbid existential figures in a
Spectacle of imprisioned aberrations
Teratogenic dilacerations, artistically caved at birth
Inspire suprarealistic conceptions of human sculptures
THIS IS HOW WE ARE!
Behold this garden of monstrosities!
Collection of anomalies which reflects the beauty
In the wall mirrors of this palace of horror
Aversive aesthetic pleasure by immobile contemplation of bestiary
Through so subtle deformations that stay in the lanes of normality
Strangely attached to the monstrous – siamystic vertebras
Enthusiastically smashed cosmogony
By visceragonic jaws
Which devour resounding abortive explosions
Lovely existence!
From a tiny and strident fissure
And thus so obtuse
drawing themselves
Exposed wounds in perverse anatomic forms
Cynicism – eternally ephemeral and unknown
I tear off my eyes
So I can’t see my fragile condition
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3. |
Cranioscopy
06:44
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CRANIOSCOPY
(Rômulo Ballestê)
Perforating slowly, the drill crosses the cranium
Laboratorial investigation-
invasive experimental surgery
A mechanical life invades to observe
Strange eyes walk inside the cranial box
Passing over the meninges, gelatinous cortical mass
Is exposed and internally you see
Artificial intelligence
implanted to observe no mechanic life
Staring glass eyes invade the human brain
to manipulate his life, his world
Invasion, dominance, sarcastic manipulation
Exploiting machines, everything will be controlled
Cranioscopy
Secret researches to unmask
the morphofunctional aspects,
Cytoarchitectural connective areas
of control centers of the nervous system
My nightmares are not trapped in this gelatin
The secrets of my insanity won`t be revealed
To the lenses of your invasive camera
Mutilation, gradual incapacitation,
neural disarticulation,
Cerebral excavation, vegetative state, lobotomy.
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4. |
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A WORM GROWS IN THE WOMB OF A DEAD WOMAN
(Rômullo Ballestê and Luiz Dorea)
Dead after the pleasure, that naked body now it stenches
Absolutely rotten?
In her life would it indeed be so strange
Lost perennity, last fallibility
An everseen form of life?
Through her death- there lives
An aberrance we cannot assume
Where lies fading the source of all our life
A worm grows so graciously
We, this worm- eaten in the mourning
Assuming dead voices
Meeting everflowing dead suns
We, this unfertile hope
That a new day could anyway begin
From the bowels of this fermentative carcass
A brutal anguish it stenches
Foul dead humankind
From thy decomposition we break out putrefying
Nasty creeping by abject gestures
Devouring all that dead flesh
From his own decaying cradle
Men`s birth is their own abortion
So repulsive to recognize
Anathematize by repugnant ways
Where inexists that old kind nature
Kiss those lips once gave you pleasure
This naked body whose fertile dead womb- we dwell in.
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5. |
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LIVID CORPSE`S IDIOSYNCRASIES
(Luiz “Cliff” Dorea)
Down in the dirtiest streets
I knew nothing of my destiny
Surrounded by my scars, the scent of visceral flesh
Evisceratrix!
There is now nothing but rotten members of mutilated corpses
I think it is a nice truth:
My organs totally exposed
So I shall tell thee
All my idiosyncrasies
When I started to travel through myself
Terrified, I saw my misery
Unfortunately I am not ready to die
Afraid to awake, to look inside
But my wounds, they make me happy:
They prove that I am perishing
-and anyway I`ll pass away
With a knife I cut all the members
and so my desire is to eat`em all
to eat the flesh, swallow the blood
through arteries and veins
My blood and flesh, they don`t deserve it so - I argue
but I shall chew them, devour them all
and so restart the cycle of my Peristaltic Movements
In my mouth I fell so acrid
but anyway it tasted good! By enzymatic activities
Digestion now, it crosses me - the scent of my faeces
Not belong to myself now
I dreg me and unchain me - to myself.
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6. |
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COLONIZING THE ORBITAL CAVITY
(Rômulo Ballestê)
I collect all these eyes!
They preserve the truthful horror of their death, fixedly.
I reconstruct an act in apparent putrid silence
With blades I purge the truth -
Kept forever in that dead tomb.
Entombed in its own dumb corpse.
Corpses … opened, searched, sutured
Another body waits on the table.
Necropsy … listening to the dead ones
Search for understanding what they say
with their mangled bodies.
Screams of pain echo in the halls.
Talk to me!
Invoking the truth of your organs,
tell me with bile, blood and faeces,
your last contractions.
Vultures of the Humanity… Tailors of the Death.
These bodies are closed
Scarecrows inhabited by the cadaveric maggots that procreate in each orifice.
This silent emptiness that now remains may be
filled by decomposition.
Orbital cavity colonized by worms –
cadaverous fauna.
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7. |
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DESINTEGRATION OF HUMAN TISSUE
(Rômulo Ballestê)
The gradual perishableness warms it’s certain death
Yet the acceleration of the decomposing process has begun
When bile inundes the blood
So, dissolved in eternal acid, in a corrosive ocean
Organs melt within the carcass still alive
In rapid putrefaction
Bubbles are formed, then burst
Without my flesh, they molest my bones
Dissolving the flesh, carving it from bones
Muscles are exposed, whitened tendons
Once torn, brutal desintegration is revealed
We`re born rotting
Rotting from birth
We follow rotting through to death
Cellular death won`t cease - multiple failure
Internal excavation of organs and viscera
Through acid, intense haemorrhage
Tissues undone, eschatological images from the cadaveric.
- The end.
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8. |
Epileptic Grinder
01:32
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EPILEPTIC GRINDER
(Rômulo Ballestê)
A groan- and a body falls
Sudden alteration of electric depolarization of the cerebral cells
Awareness in alteration- hallucinations
Foaming salivation increases, the tongue is lacerated
By the bite that is choking
Fear without consciousness
Brutal convulsion- muscles in spasm
The skull beats against the ground resulting in
microfractures, microvessels in rupture
Surgical steps of structural alterations
in the cortex, it must be done
Withdrawing temporal cerebral epileptogenic tissue
- The cure?
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9. |
Bizarre
06:38
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BIZARRE
(Rômulo Ballestê)
Through deep incisions mutilating the face by sharpened blade
Dilated pupils staring the mirror
Don`t see the images, there`s no pain, there`s no reflection
Cutting and cutting, the traces appearing
Drawing in a raw sketch his own new face
Being sharpened the beauty on his own flesh
Brutal lacerations writhing the skin
Your will is a relief for the entire putrid flesh
That now is exposed
Willing to belong to a world of images
Images painted by haemorrhages
Your skin- that screen
Aberrations- normality
Almost all the faces are masks of the
Misshapen skin and scars
Invisible and insane monstrosity
Completely blind
Bizarre, we are bizarre!
Inhuman repulsive abnormality
of his own sick mind
That builds a pretty mask
decomposing your cadaverous face
Thousand nails cross his eyes,
for they`ve never seen anything
Brutal lacerations writhing the skin
You will is a relief for the entire putrid flesh
That now is exposed
Willing to belong at a world of images
Images painted by haemorrhages
Your skin- the screen
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