Uzun Günler ve Hoş Geceler Sai.

prefer a feast of friends to the giant family

[ripndipcl]

[uzungunlervehosgeceler]

Senfoni

“Yazarın dönüşü.” Hayır d BÜYÜK HARF. Nokta da yok ama Sal müziği, gel buraya. Beni dinle. Ne kadar oldu yazmayalı? 

Nereye yazmayalı? 

Buraya mı? 

Herhangi bir yere mi? 

Anlamlı bir şey mi?

Ne dinliyorum ben şu an? Mozart mı?

Cevabını bildiğim sorular sormak hoşuma mı gidiyor, hayatta en sevdiğim şey mi yoksa cevabını bildiğim sorular? Tek sorun da doğru soruları sevmiyor olmam mı? Şiir sevmek mi, sevdiğini sanmak mı? Sevdiğini ummak mı, sevmeye çalışmak mı? Yazdıklarını tekrar tekrar okumak, müziğe kendini bırakmak ve kafalar yaşamak. Hayatın tadını çıkardığın reklamlar içinde kalmış bir zihin, yanlış anlaşılmanın vereceği endişeyi ve kendini yeniden düzeltmeleri bir kenara bıraktığında, arkana bakıp kontrol ettiğin ve asla hiçbir şey yapmamış gibi devam ettiğin, bunun artık oldukça sıradanlaştığı bir dünyada tamamen kaybolmak mı? 

Güzel bir şey yazdığına inanmak mı, en sonunda aynı noktaya varmak mı, vardığını sanmak mı? Birkaç saniye beklemek, tüm dünyayı, tüm koca yeryüzünü ve ona takılan birçok diğer ismi düşünmek, ve sonra büyük balığın peşinde sembolizme girmek mi? Yaptığım tek şey sorular sormak mı? Tek isteğim yalan söylemeyi bırakmak mı? 

Tedavimi oldum mu? Olmadığımı görmek gerçekten komik, ve bitmeyen şeylerin de bittiğine dair güzel bir örnek, değil. 

Planlar kurmak bir yere kadar, gerçek şu ki hayat, belirlenmiş olduğu gibi, hiç bitmeyecek.

[vapiddreamscape-deactivated2016]

I like the stars. It’s the illusion of permanence, I think. I mean, they’re always flaring up and caving in and going out. But from here, I can pretend…I can pretend that things last. I can pretend that lives last longer than moments. Gods come, and gods go. Mortals flicker and flash and fade. Worlds don’t last; and stars and galaxies are transient, fleeting things that twinkle like fireflies and vanisn into cold and dust. But I can pretend.

Destruction, The Sandman Volume Seven: Brief Lives, Neil Gaiman (via vapiddreamscape)

[mirrormystic]

Getting what you want and being happy are two very different things.

Desire of the Endless, Endless Nights by Neil Gaiman (via mirrormystic)

[wordsnquotes]

I think hell is something you carry around with you. Not somewhere you go.

Gaiman, Neil. The Sandman. (via wordsnquotes)

[alcyere]

O’Brien’s Tower (by Timo Kirkkala)

[uzungunlervehosgeceler]

Ses veeeer-ir misin?? :)

Se

[jadebox]

ah, o ses, bildik bir anı’nın çehresinin yırtıldığı an, bir atomun ihtimaller bulutu gibi, kırılmak üzere olan bir pencerenin çift katlı sihri gibi sizi de etkilemez miydi?

pek az kişinin ancak farkına varabildiği o çivilenmiş pencereyi açmak istiyorsam eğer boynuzlarımdan başka kullanabileceğim bir şey yoktur.

can you hear me, major tom?

[uzungunlervehosgeceler]

Yapmak zorunda olduğum şeyler haricinde yapacak hiçbir şeyim yok, ve bu beni deli ediyor.

[uzungunlervehosgeceler]

Auguries of Innocence

To see a world in a grain of sand And a heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour. A robin redbreast in a cage Puts all heaven in a rage. A dove-house fill'd with doves and pigeons Shudders hell thro' all its regions. A dog starv'd at his master's gate Predicts the ruin of the state. A horse misused upon the road Calls to heaven for human blood. Each outcry of the hunted hare A fibre from the brain does tear. A skylark wounded in the wing, A cherubim does cease to sing. The game-cock clipt and arm'd for fight Does the rising sun affright. Every wolf's and lion's howl Raises from hell a human soul. The wild deer, wand'ring here and there, Keeps the human soul from care. The lamb misus'd breeds public strife, And yet forgives the butcher's knife. The bat that flits at close of eve Has left the brain that won't believe. The owl that calls upon the night Speaks the unbeliever's fright. He who shall hurt the little wren Shall never be belov'd by men. He who the ox to wrath has mov'd Shall never be by woman lov'd. The wanton boy that kills the fly Shall feel the spider's enmity. He who torments the chafer's sprite Weaves a bower in endless night. The caterpillar on the leaf Repeats to thee thy mother's grief. Kill not the moth nor butterfly, For the last judgement draweth nigh. He who shall train the horse to war Shall never pass the polar bar. The beggar's dog and widow's cat, Feed them and thou wilt grow fat. The gnat that sings his summer's song Poison gets from slander's tongue. The poison of the snake and newt Is the sweat of envy's foot. The poison of the honey bee Is the artist's jealousy. The prince's robes and beggar's rags Are toadstools on the miser's bags. A truth that's told with bad intent Beats all the lies you can invent. It is right it should be so; Man was made for joy and woe; And when this we rightly know, Thro' the world we safely go. Joy and woe are woven fine, A clothing for the soul divine. Under every grief and pine Runs a joy with silken twine. The babe is more than swaddling bands; Throughout all these human lands; Tools were made and born were hands, Every farmer understands. Every tear from every eye Becomes a babe in eternity; This is caught by females bright, And return'd to its own delight. The bleat, the bark, bellow, and roar, Are waves that beat on heaven's shore. The babe that weeps the rod beneath Writes revenge in realms of death. The beggar's rags, fluttering in air, Does to rags the heavens tear. The soldier, arm'd with sword and gun, Palsied strikes the summer's sun. The poor man's farthing is worth more Than all the gold on Afric's shore. One mite wrung from the lab'rer's hands Shall buy and sell the miser's lands; Or, if protected from on high, Does that whole nation sell and buy. He who mocks the infant's faith Shall be mock'd in age and death. He who shall teach the child to doubt The rotting grave shall ne'er get out. He who respects the infant's faith Triumphs over hell and death. The child's toys and the old man's reasons Are the fruits of the two seasons. The questioner, who sits so sly, Shall never know how to reply. He who replies to words of doubt Doth put the light of knowledge out. The strongest poison ever known Came from Caesar's laurel crown. Nought can deform the human race Like to the armour's iron brace. When gold and gems adorn the plow, To peaceful arts shall envy bow. A riddle, or the cricket's cry, Is to doubt a fit reply. The emmet's inch and eagle's mile Make lame philosophy to smile. He who doubts from what he sees Will ne'er believe, do what you please. If the sun and moon should doubt, They'd immediately go out. To be in a passion you good may do, But no good if a passion is in you. The whore and gambler, by the state Licensed, build that nation's fate. The harlot's cry from street to street Shall weave old England's winding-sheet. The winner's shout, the loser's curse, Dance before dead England's hearse. Every night and every morn Some to misery are born, Every morn and every night Some are born to sweet delight. Some are born to sweet delight, Some are born to endless night. We are led to believe a lie When we see not thro' the eye, Which was born in a night to perish in a night, When the soul slept in beams of light. God appears, and God is light, To those poor souls who dwell in night; But does a human form display To those who dwell in realms of day.

-William Blake (1803)

[uzungunlervehosgeceler]

Wow, I’m sick of doubt Live in the light of certain south Cruel bindings. The servants have the power Dog-men and their mean women Pulling poor blankets over our sailors I’m sick of dour faces Staring at me from the tv tower, 

I want roses in my garden bower; dig?  Royal babies, rubies Must now replace 

Aborted strangers in the mud These mutants, blood-meal For the plant that’s plowed. They are waiting to take us 

Into the severed garden Do you know how pale and wanton thrillful Comes death on a strange hour Unannounced, unplanned for Like a scaring over-friendly guest you’ve brought to bed

Death makes angels of us all And gives us wings Where we had shoulders Smooth as raven’s Claws No more money, no more fancy dress This other kingdom seems by far the best Until it’s other jaw reveals incest And loose obedience to a vegetable law. I will not go Prefer a feast of friends To the giant family.

[uzungunlervehosgeceler]

pulp veya değil, biz olmuşuz fiction.

[daideolecorvus-deactivated20160]

Tumblr’ını açık unutmuşun sorun olmaz inş.

Biraz gezdim tozdum geldim ben de. Rüzgarı kanatlarının altına almış kızıl kuyruklu bir atmaca gibi yükseldim, uçtum, kondum şimdi

yine uçuyorum.

Bongobongo sesler geliyor je ne t’aime plus diyor bir adamla bir kadın birbirlerine sürekli. “Ben de seni...

[uzungunlervehosgeceler]

İlk stencil deneyimim elbette Morrison #jimmorrison #stencil

[uzungunlervehosgeceler]

404 (Film.Coop’da)

[uzungunlervehosgeceler]

Film.Coop’da

[uzungunlervehosgeceler]

#streetart #münchen (Film.Coop’da)