The Artwork of Bob Schiavo

SILENT WINTER (By Robert Trabold) Bitter cold – wind touch the bones. Snow coming – came same weather – no change. I have to stay home not many activities outside – meetings cancelled too cold. Change for me – have time on my hands. I am always busy many things to do. Quiet descends on […]
Read moreSweeping the Temple with a Straw Broom – By Mankh 1 Dazzled by the pageantry and bright lights some lost their names having given them to God but the Nameless One had no use for them— that’s why the people were given the names in the first place.The refulgent spotlights on saviors in those not-so-ancient spectacles, theatrics of fear, […]
Read moreEnigma – By Elaine Nadal The bells tolled. I heard them. S l o w l y LOUDER Numbing my body. Obscuring my vision. Searching for color in my subconscious… I found images: games, gatherings, horse rides– artifices sufficing for a time. An unrecognizable figure putrefied instantly, leaving ashes S E E P I N G It burns. My […]
Read moreHOW LEAVING HOME WORKS I need highways, infrastructure that can differentiate between the town where I grew up and the place I need to be. And a Ford that’s up to it, getting on but faithful, its leather bucket seats faded from their prime, but radio rock stations all preset and fifty times louder than the engine. Blacktop, […]
Read moreEASE – By John Zedolik Snow on the Moore. But the Reclining Figure, 1957, doesn’t care. After all it is only a mantle upon bronze, lounging there for halfway to a century and more, and has certainly experienced worse in those years of wavering weather and witnesses such as me who envy the unconcern that brings fortitude […]
Read moreNoblesse Oblige – By Frank De Canio It isn’t strange that some sweet girl who’s charmed a male combatant in the sexes’ war should, seeing that her former foe’s disarmed by awe, forgo hostilities she swore. For, after all, a man thus smitten cedes his prowess to exigencies of love. His heart is focused on romantic deeds and gallantry instead […]
Read moreDear Jimi, I had the honor of meeting you in London in January 1969. I worked as a set carpenter at the BBC recording studios West London. You were there to record some of your “BBC Sessions” tracks. I was in your presence for perhaps ten minutes, long enough to become a life-long fan. – John A Brennan The […]
Read moreBodies Exhibit – By Fern G. Z. Carr Black walls, track lighting, spectators milling about silently, reverently surrounded by vascular systems preserved in fluid, skeletons, diseased organs, foetuses in jars. Hollowed out corpses in life-like poses play soccer, hold hands, boast their musculature – a post-mortem artistic rendition of red meat. In a display case, a […]
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