the art of cut'n'paste is pastiche
the foul air tainted our ambition to be
Virtually speaking, IT IS UNREAL
Like the mermaids singing in the Fairyland
Like the nymphing breaking in the Neverland
Like the pixies hugging and tugging in the Liquorland
Allusions is an art of floating in the words of Pleasure
When you shout in Anxiety and Shock
Scare is scarce at the moment
Allusions is an art of drifting in the worlds of Illusions
With ill intentions or good-willed hysterical installation
You conceived an Idea with me
A conceptual poectics of being Otherness
Virtually speaking, IT IS UNREAL
I have no virtues for the last two years
Only vice cut deep into me like the mice's sharp teeth
Teased me, tantalised me and tainted me
A beam of prehistorical Stonehange
Fallinf off the autumn of Birthday Parties and Panties
Falling off the argument of Domestic Dispute
Before the Magistrate of Family Court
But it is still a dilemna
heads toward a Virtual Mediation
I have reconciled with YOU!
it has been a collaboration's goal
successes thus depends on a concentrated
respects for different intents
and psyche, immersive drones of two-pieces
themselves, their own benefits
the project really took off
The fear of walking down the AVENUE of some sinland, horrorscope and cityscape
I escape to the Scenery of everlasting Beauty and Virture
Vice is rattling hard against the Demons I have been
Dancing and Flirting with
vanishing therefore into Southern Ocean
Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;
And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.
This is a urgent statement
2nd year because only time will tell
struggles long after its occurence,
it has been a collaboration's goal
Surviving for the sickest
My only contacts remain in the aimles
shallow, human, wanking, story-telling, screaming
cloning, creating, down-turning, crashing
primate mating under the roof
After the wasteland of stasis
He is the corporate Silence: dread him not! No power hath he of evil in himself;
But should some urgent fate (untimely lot!) Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf,
That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod No foot of man,) commend thyself to God!
Hybrid was a form while its contents is the product of production with its style stifling the future five year plan
Hybrid was a kind of ecclestic mix fix appopriation
a collage of Thoughts and Images
The high sorrow screech like silk
Decadent stasis congeals the cloud in the
Wailing bamboos grooves cry like the virgins
Strings strummed; phoniex screaming ; jade smashed
The dew of hibiscus rolls tear drops with camilia smiles
Melted chills of light before 12 doors
Purple emperor is touched by the 23 strings
The hole in the sky was filled by the Goddess
Rocks are broken and heaven stunned
The autumn rains are amused
I dreamt to enter the Mountains of Sacred to teach
While the old fished jump from waves to waves
He can not fall into sleep but leaning againt the Osmanthus
Trees; feet expose to kick and wetten the Cold Rabbits
Care and toil accompany life all along.
Nevertheless, everyone wants to live sexual desire
when hungry, he wants food; when thirsty, he wants
drink; when cold, he wants clothes
nature of life lies deep in desire.
Desire comes from a satisfied desire
Even when all desires are satisfied and there are no more
objects to be desired, boredom and weariness naturally arises.
Boredom is another type of pain.
one has to make painstaking efforts
increases rather than decreases as world civilization progresses
He is like a boat that is floating near its homeport after escaping a
rough sea like a fish that has slipped alive through a net or like a bird
that has flown out of its cage is as though he were starting to enjoy a
happy excursion in beautiful mountains and forests, along picturesque rivers or
over blue oceans something that enables him to be detached from interests
is presupposed by its disinterested connection with him
is possible only when we consider art instead of anything practically material
desire-ridden contemplate a work of art
can contemplate it are free from desires
forget subject-object relations
‘What in life doth only grieve us; that in art we gladly see’.
Rebellions is the sadines packed
in the peak hour traffic when sun rises in the East
Oh! the mercy and piety hospitalised our Compassions
There is no order and harmony to fulfill our
There is a bit of Structure in the Dreams
Disjoined sound of fiddling the kinks and kooky cruelling
groove onto my Dobbleganger
is nothing less is decided by
profound seriousness everyone pursues it
love affairs is more important than all other aims in man's life
In motion we wiped out something called Intrusion
Confused propaganda advertise the backbone of
Earth elements proclaim the Neutral Cat
Resting ponder over a Pond of
Puzzles that squeeze into the Security Zones
The dead spring has buried the atrocity
month from above the deceased land
mix recollections and lilies of desire bred
exciting slow rains drizzle over the Dull Mind
winter warms our short memory
feeding the micoro-substance
thunder rolls over the wet moist sweating white silence on your face in the garden extreme pains scratches afterwards wails of prison and palaces stood in the mountains of distance
thundering spring open up the life he is dead and alive we are here timid and are dying no water rocking hard on the dirt gravels twisting roads no water our feet can not stop stoop and stomp unbearable lies unspeakable truth not here over there spitting the bad tooth dying mouth is not on the hills silently drying up only if but infertile thundering no rains sneers grumpy faces redden the knots from behind a house of solitute over there water flows drols sings crackles cackles but still no water
rocking my heart bleeding my terror
age will never shrink maternal lamentation
izzy806
origamiaround
gummygunk
prguitarman
annaxmalina
dailybridgerton
titsay
kaledo-art