Poetry
Vishnu's poems are a vibrant tapestry woven from their multidisciplinary practices. Here, vulnerability becomes strength, and the explorations of identity and social issues that resonate throughout their work take center stage. Dive into a world where the physical and the lyrical collide, and prepare to be moved by the raw power of words.
Commissioned by Performative Buchmesse and texttissues
When I Saw This Coming
I JUST HEAR the music.
I can't hear a thing, sorry!
When little things are reflective of somethings
When the bottle is half the smell
When you package the addictions like a perfume
When I saw this coming
When my big-fight with you wasn't about hiring myself into a job
When the systems say everyone can become an entrepreneur and then gamify our freedom to do business
When you call it "the right party"
I JUST HEAR the music.
I can't hear a thing, sorry!
When time changes with seasons
When you also commodify my time
When you say I am bone-idle
When I don't work for your profit
When I am dancing with finesse, to the loud uproarious music
When you interrupt my pirouettes with your colonial-capitalist canon
When I saw this coming
I JUST HEAR the music.
I can't hear a thing, sorry!
When you create the systems to complicate my rest, sleep and relaxation
When you prescribe me golden tinctures instead
When I can't afford those in coins
When I am more and more exhausted
When you continue to favor "the select few"
When you efface traditional practices, histories and ancestral wisdoms
When you foie gras me with ambition for lucre, nostalgia for the great-agains, and hate for my compatriot
I JUST HEAR the music.
I can't hear a thing, sorry!
When you snub crafts, magic, herbs and the healing witches
When you offer me "man-made" lozenges instead
When you buy the seeds and stifle the agrarian practices
When you curse me with ultra processed food in packaged tins with a long list of ingredients
When you invest time in mass producing surgical bullets
When your profit strategies don't differentiate: nutrition, weapons, forests, futures
When you colonize regions for cinnamon and in exchange overwhelm the populace with salts, sugars and fats
I JUST HEAR the music.
I can't hear a thing, sorry!
Commissioned by tuotuoarts