#poem, «In The Blackness of Silence»

(«SIlence»/Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved)

Forests in the Blackness of Silence
Space unravels like salt spilling from a shaker
someone knocked off the kitchen counter,
and the salt that spilt is a reminder
of little stars of white
that shine in forests in the blackness of silence.

Reality floats like trees without roots,
tanning their leaves
in the bright midnight sun
made of honey and flour.

Discarded thoughts travel sideways along the Milky Way,
combining intention and starlight into tangled braids.
Wishes drift in flocks migrating through colourful streets
toward the forest in the blackness of silence.

Planets pretend to exist,
black holes hum lullabies
to lull in restless dreamers,
as meteors brush past
like moths too shy to burn.

Perhaps we are just players
in a matrix filled with light,
our earth, our bones, our daydreams,
created to arouse the sleeping prophet dreaming
that holds us in his arms.

In the end,
there is no end.
only more of the beginning,
multiplying silence to the nth degree,
turning infinity into
the salt shaker of absurdity.

A forest in the blackness of silence
is a song composed of smoke
that fills the empty hours…

C.2025 – Francisco Bravo Cabrera – 21 SEP 2025 – Chios, Greece

#art, A Page from Art History: Masaccio

(«Retrato de Masaccio»/Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved)

MASACCIO

Today I would like to talk to you about an Early Renaissance painter from Italia that no one talks about a lot but who is important for art history and I think you should know more about him, or if you do not know anything about him, you should…

Masaccio, born Tommaso di Ser Giovanni di Simone in 1401 in San Giovanni Valdarno, in the region of Tuscany. He died in Rome in 1428…

Masaccio was a painter of the Early Renaissance who, although he had a brief career, transformed the course of Western art. He was born near Florence, and he trained in Florence. Masaccio quickly gained recognition for his innovative use of perspective, naturalism, and light. He rejected the Gothic stylization which was still common in his time. Masaccio was a pioneer of a new visual language that emphasized three-dimensional space, volumetric figures, and psychological realism.

His most important works include the Brancacci Chapel frescoes in Santa Maria del Carmine, Florence, where scenes such as The Tribute Money and The Expulsion from the Garden of Eden demonstrate his mastery of perspective, emotion, and storytelling. He also collaborated with Masolino and may have been influenced by Brunelleschi and Donatello, as he shared with these Renaissance greats an interest in proportion and classical harmony.

Masaccio’s career was tragically short as he died when he was about 26 or 27 years of age. However, his innovations surely influenced later masters such as Fra Angelico, Filippo Lippi, and especially Michelangelo. It can be safely said that Masaccio’s work marks the true beginning of Renaissance painting, bridging the medieval and the modern.

I think you will agree with my assessment of this great Italian master.

(San Giovenale Triptych/1422/Public Domain/Image source: Wikimedia Commons)
(Holy Trinity/1425/28/Public Domain/Image source: Wikimedia Commons)
(Crucifixion/1426/Public Domain/Image source: Wikimedia Commons)

CHEERS

#poem, «In Central Park»

(«Clouds Without Rain»/Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved)

CENTRAL PARK

Who can change the course of history?
Who can stop the wheels of time?
Think you can?
Think they can?
Who is they?
And who are you to presume?

History is a mystery

Questions like these and many more,
bounce off the thin layer of surface water
that fills the depths of the reservoir in Central Park.
While it is quite necessary to investigate the lectionary,
Never should one doubt,
there are absolutes,
there are unchanging laws.

There‘s right and wrong,
there’s Ten Commandments,
miraculously carved in stone.
There’s the way of light and the way of darkness,
and you’re free to choose,
take your pick,
light or dark,
or take from both.

But human souls need human comforting,
We’ve all wandered far from home…

On a rotting bench, close to Central Park West,
sitting proper is Rosemary a retired secretary.
Her mind races from through to thought,
used to precision, speed and so forth.
But now quite old she’s not as bold and not as fast,
so when Augusts’ nights shine bright with Augusts’ lightning,
she still sits alone under the rain and
through her ears travels the rhythm and the cadence
of an old, old song, always the same.

I stood one clear January morning
near The Castle in Central Park,
and snow covered the ground,
I thought of summer
and not a question crossed my mind.

C.2021, Francisco Bravo Cabrera, 20 NOV 2021/30 AUG 2025, València, Spain/Izmir, Türkiye

#poem, «In The Blackness of Silence»

(«SIlence»/Francisco Bravo Cabrera/All Rights Reserved)

Forests in the Blackness of Silence
Space unravels like salt spilling from a shaker
someone knocked off the kitchen counter,
and the salt that spilt is a reminder
of little stars of white
that shine in forests in the blackness of silence.

Reality floats like trees without roots,
tanning their leaves
in the bright midnight sun
made of honey and flour.

Discarded thoughts travel sideways along the Milky Way,
combining intention and starlight into tangled braids.
Wishes drift in flocks migrating through colourful streets
toward the forest in the blackness of silence.

Planets pretend to exist,
black holes hum lullabies
to lull in restless dreamers,
as meteors brush past
like moths too shy to burn.

Perhaps we are just players
in a matrix filled with light,
our earth, our bones, our daydreams,
created to arouse the sleeping prophet dreaming
that holds us in his arms.

In the end,
there is no end.
only more of the beginning,
multiplying silence to the nth degree,
turning infinity into
the salt shaker of absurdity.

A forest in the blackness of silence
is a song composed of smoke
that fills the empty hours…

C.2025 – Francisco Bravo Cabrera – 21 SEP 2025 – Chios, Greece