February 2018 IBPC entries


Congratulations to Alex, Gracy, & Jim. Their poems below will represent Babilu in the February 2018 IBPC contest.


by Alex 

Let them eat their fill of their square pears on their triangular tables! Marc Chagall

Hey! Marc what's up with that latest blue donkey painting of yours?
How come it's not flying? And what's that dangling between its hind legs?
Are you testing the limits of the Parisian art intellectual milieu?
No! Sasha it's just that I never learned how to paint academically.
Well, Marc that's pretty apparent here but it has maybe nothing to do
with your childish drawings. You must give it proper intellectual reasons.
Kandinski did and look how far he propelled.
Da, Sasha, why don't you work out a philosophy for my art.
You're so good at cerebral bullshit!
OK, Marc. Considering the content of your many paintings I suggest
we take the Freudian slant. You have all the virginal stuff and flying angels
with horned beasts peering from every corner. I bet Freud will jump
on the bandwagon.
Well, Sasha, as usual your approach is brilliant but with that slant
you're making me a degenerate.
Niet, Marc, it's all about money. Just look at what Picasso is getting
away with. All your art has familiar renditions. Yeah, a bit upside down
and flying like on LSD. So, do you want to be rich and famous or a poor
nameless wannabe?


by Gracy 

A vision slapped my face
with the force of revelation:

I saw Nature’s keys stolen 
from Ancient Guardians of the forests.
Pilfered written pacts, indifferent stares
fouled the air behind Pehuenche's backs.

Stumbling up the southern cordillera,
a protected area -an illusion-
I trekked by rusty machinery.
An international highway throttled by thickets,
resonant undergrowth
of mythical powers seeking redress.

The way uphill became a path bewitched.
“Border closed”, snapped a drunken signpost.
Was this desolation Pehuenche heritage?

I heard a waterfall's soothing chimes,
a live organ, pure magic,
musical notes dancing on flecks of spray.
A chorus announced by kultrün,
whose cruciform symbol began to gyrate
before my startled eyes, “¡Pillan, pillan, 
in your name ten times we shall triumph!”

How could I once believe
there were causes greater than these?
Earth's primal beauty slashed with lances,
bleeding wounds no god would ever heal?

Enthralled, I stood before Nature’s altar.
Pehuenche spirit will endure
as surely as the Pacific
rolls over rocks- 
distant ocean tinted green, yellow spume-
storm’s crest lowering 
over vulcan shores of black sand.

From this land of swords and stone,
light is approaching: 
golden redemption of Spring.


by Jim 

Cold slices with ice knives,
sharper than your teeth.
White incisors polished 
on the bone of winter deer.

As you walk in the silent 
snow, falling flakes cry 
as they cover the gules 
of your new kill.



  • Posts: 0
    Glad to be be with such fine writers.
    Good luck Alex and Gracy!

  • Posts: 0
    Jim that was my pick, congrats all, glad these 3 are going in.


  • I always wanted to  rub shoulders with the beautiful and famous... ha! Thanks all for the nudge & my best wishes to all. It inspired me to do a few artworks associating mine with Chagall's... lol No w I do them.
  • Posts: 0
    Excellent! Good Luck all!

    Kenny A. Chaffin
    "Strive on with Awareness" - Siddhartha Gautama
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