Similar to a
Gentle transition of electrical power
Or
A flash of lightning slamming into the mind
Consciousness-rays permeates
My body and mind
Always and forever...
When ground is tilled,
Philosophies
Religion
Morality
Anthropology
And Sociology
All unite into one harmonious whole. Given the task of assimilating all unauthorized assimilations
Wakeful dispensations....
Traveling down reproaches weaving road at the speed of mono sound!?
Disintegrations decay within the rearview mirrors fiery blow-by-blows
Smoke and debris transformations strewn about whirlwind trails of sins
Destructive tales to form this phenomenon through, vestibules cryptic....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....Crucible amid, assimilations abstract theory?!
Mingling showcase crowds gathering amid the contemporary chambers
Within this the modern day museum of the poisoned pilloried minds....
Subjugation piercing the thresholds beneath conscious perceptions views!?
Gazing as deeper into the contortions abstract of framework they go
Entranced assimilations aside artful disassociations; brushed with black
And blues colours and hews, of acrylic paintings hung upon the galleries
Mesmerizing, paradoxic walls growing collection in....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....Extramurals multiple personality disorders?!
And who is artist?
I was told before, dollar for painting
(a hundred for creation)
I don't believe that anymore
(never really did)
We are the architects, playing to the open field of the underworld to realities
(an artist with an 'e')
thick conglomerates of sticky color for fingertips
assimilations of rarities in a crown of words
(and I wear it every day)
I walk with a liquid transcription in my mind, and a step before another
planned to exist.
It's the attraction to memory-movement-making
Paste against palette, mouth against ambiance
a sensuality, that goes beyond knowing
and enters the realm of divine.
We are what we are- and what we are is
liquid- little tapers of movement,
beautiful movement.
Even the naked, aspiring snakes of Adam and Eve
begins here.
And who is artist?
I promise you this
They'll never pay you to enough to know.