Poem inspired by the new exhibition of Marina Abramovic in Royal Academy of Arts in London, 2023.


Soft tigers and burning moons I place on the table
For you to pick up and use and murder;

I take full responsibility.
Watch you gravitate towards a

Rainbow flying on the back of a bat, a dark giant
Butterfly, a dragonfly or a dragon now visiting

Our zoo; they came to watch us hand us some
Water some roses and some gun. Kinder than the

Dolled up meat-decorated skeletons
Called humans.

All these animals had a heart and this
A poem not a

Fable. Welcome to the dreams of Rhythm Zero
Or more within if I push my pain thresholds I may

Break open like a heart. No cracks you
May see tears fall down my face making rivers

Jealous with their abundance, their flow
I am still waiting to tear open after a brutal renaissance,

I must have an immortal heart and/or
A shameless mind

This marble table with legs sticky like honey
For the last six hours worth of ticks I watched

Many clocks melt and sink under my skin
That lived under this flesh deep deep within.

Forgot I was human; had a body a time bomb a ticking clock
Sand fading while I’m

Gripping air tight on clouds on the run
Come here before my pink dreams fall apart

Or I may need more than paintings Dali-esque to
Make you come alive add some spice some spine

Glittering in your ice eyes. I wonder how you learned
To smile so well, so well you won the heart of the fool over

And over, to fall in love in lust then crushed,
To fall over bend over backwards where is the

Spine. It was all over I, a mere stopover
Made dinner made the bed

I played house now I collect regret like dead toys eating
Dust on some top shelf;

Wish I had teeth to bite the dust embellished it all
Watched you pass through a meat portal cut through it all

Electricity between two magnetic nudes more lethal than the
Nukes their children with big brains may give birth to


Razors knives books sharpened with
Ace of swords, with silence, with deafening
Shockwaves pulsing through a heart frozen

I sink
Within an ugly truth; the true nature of
Humans in Marina’s

Mirror so we abuse the power we are
Given— painting a canvas with her blood her permission
With the first chance we’re given we show her humans.


No crumbs of pain left to trigger another
Earthquake I linger in a state of bliss while
The echoes of your serpentine hiss are singing
Like the phantom of the opera; a source of muse

No longer a curse of blues, I sing I king in peace
I don’t trust myself with you in power I won’t
Let you be in charge won’t let you paint my
Canvas blood-red maybe rose-red no wine stains


A rose, a feather, a book, a box of razor blades, a whip, and a gun. These items would rarely be found together under any other circumstances. During the six-hour performance of 'Rhythm 0,' Marina Abramovic assumed full responsibility for empowering the participants to interact with these objects, and with Marina herself.

Ever since I watched 'Rhythm 0' in an art documentary years ago, I've been fascinated by the profound courage it takes to grant strangers the authority to potentially harm or heal you, revealing the full spectrum of human emotions, from cruelty to compassion. I also ponder what would happen if a man conducted a similar experimental performance art and whether he would encounter the same readiness of the audience to wield the power they've been given. Would the audience be more or less forgiving, violent, or merciless?

Additionally, I contemplate the immense curiosity required to fuel such courage, the willingness to be vulnerable, and the choice to use one's own body as a medium to expose the darkest and deepest aspects of human capacity for destruction.

Marina Abramovic was brave enough to be a blank canvas humans wanted to paint with her own blood to make their mark.