- Onscreen offwards.
H o w close are we? WHEN your eyes feel so cold.
- Fast sex to the point.
Light spurs in all directions, Initiating a circular movement, In an uncomfortable position. But it is mediated, By a twirl as loud as an after-dinner invitation, To a unprotected exhibition. Wide angles, Short takes on a narrow canyon, All lights cannot be seen from the same lumination.
- Life is strange, living it is grotesque.
Damnation, by Bela Tarr
I just opened my stomach on a train, There is no ticket, nor a brain. I started to vomit, Like a Siberian hermit, Finally melt down, And going to the summit. THE GIRL SIT BY ME IS CURIOUS more than she needs to be more than I ought to see Are we going to be on time? She asks, Sure, I say, no lunch is slowing down the train.
- How the devil trained the fairies.
Moms tell us, That Eyes are the windows to our souls. And everybody knows that.
- The man who killed his reflection.
I see your face Hidden in shadows Engulfed by smoke I gently blow past the surface With my invisible arrow Made from a deep-aged oak By my legs! By my arms! I start to see Your face start to wallow Like that my own I see myself gallowed.
The Night It Rained
(An shab ke barun amad)
- The truth is personal?
Investigative Documentary/Social Commentary
Rashômon, by Akira Kurosawa
Comedian: The only wish I have before I die is to survive a plane crash. Tragedian: The only wish I have right before I die is to survive a place crash.
- Fear of fear of out-there.
It's almost nap time, You sit by the clock, Look at the lock, On your door to an uncommitted crime. And here comes the chime, Nobody is around, For the unseen to be drowned, Like a young man in his prime. Run! You are out there...awake in your nap time.
- Fun in a touch time.
IF I were a lawyer, ALL my clients would be BROKE by now.
The Smiling Madame Beudet
(La souriante Madame Beudet)
- Waterfall in a long river, flows and flows.
La notte, by Michelangelo Antonioni
- She's back, monsieur. - ... Okay, now you put this away. Remember each bullet has its own slot. - Oui, monsieur.
- Speak the unspeakable.
It was hard to swallow, Objects looks bigger in the mirror, You know, But the stranger moves along, It is no longer a memory Of the same night That nothing else should have happened. Where were you? Hiding in your hat, Or Hand in your hat?