Sunday, December 13, 2015

Red Psych Side Thoughts




Hop skip jump
acid wash jean jacket done up
button to the chin
collar pop
acid
acid
acid wash
weed repellent
daisy wash
forget me not
tell me my future
don't paint a picture
wet oil paint you try to hard
too pretentious
in need of patience and appointments
bad parking and lazy receiving
haute couture wrapped in delusional linen
leather decisions
white paint predicaments
like my old blue fish Fantasy
I was sure every morning
he ate breakfast with me
whether it's true or not
whether it's true or not


















































































.

Saturday, August 1, 2015

The plateau is not against you

Cliffs are futuristically extinct
edges, peripheries and show offs
anarchists and/are celebrities (and vice versa)
vis a vis
the act of waving, coming or going, has become a permanent motor skill, 
like an endearing treacherous tattoo boldly and passionately saying
I'M GOING TO AND IT'S GOING TO BE
NO COMPROMISES 
eviction at a time 
no regrets 
HANDS UP empty your pockets and spread your wily mind so truth can come clean
massive fine
specialized lover has to wait, age, change shape
ice age 
bleak alley waste haze
shock cremate
To begin with
fine sand fondled and sifted through a strangers fingers
blown glass reminiscent of venus in double vision stack upon one another
records the fallen sediment
a re-accuring penalty similar to a hog tied roof rack 
on the hood of a crimson crass convertible
a 4 cylinder red fire bird in the moonlight 
burned out at the brims 
taken for granted is real
dust in the wind burns out with a blaze
won't cause a crime no more
the consequential shadow becomes hotter then the disappointment felt towards the lazy

yes old and set in ones way but there is rev after the most sour infection
chances are not numerical
but limited editions
bidding at an extremely high minimum























































































































































































.




















































































.

This time is coming/ telescope/compass/ wind in sail/ be strong/ cry whenever you need to

Allow change
batten down the hatches
and release the rib cage
expansive treasure chest
reveal your cardamon potential
digest every northern gust of wind taunting you with guilt
high quality aura
tea with the last bumblebee
virgin morning everyday at dawn
breakfast with Lover and Black Eye
civil wild cats
ghosts are matter
and have needs
just like the rest of us
prepare
daily







































































































.







































































































.

Loneliness in raw denim thrashed against a rock for hours to soften

To be lonely
loneliness is an off balance
a misfortunate blame
an unidentified super natural stake
which can leave one feeling the same sickness as any other equally severe hospitalized speculation
tired
cloudy head
long drawn out stares
high security gated community
a strata of daily narrow minded solutions
in most cases a decent man made rabbit hole
or advanced trespasser
will eventually rip their commited and consistent industrial thread denim
and feel a sense of loss which leads to another sense of realized having
and then at the climaxed bond between the lonely and another thing
there is something
deep down in the grotto
in the damp musty dwelling of the least
there will be a phosphorescence of ease
and inscription of form and hue embedding deep into the weave of the yesteryears
a family album which declares
it is you who chooses to
look at the minimal
as less
or nothing
or only the lonely

Times void will not last forever
therefor try to refrain from pannick
but first let pannick and fear and lack of air devour you
befriend the darkest most rigid fury of pain
and then betray it
and slay it
like the oldest transcribed depiction of salvation
the most massive explosive acknowledgment of victory
recognized through the beautiful simplicity of a thread which hangs on to your body
with everything its got
there is always something holding something else together,
and it always should matter.












































































.

White Detached Conservatory

Headlights
surge across
the pines
the wind is merely the aftermath
vaulted skies
synthetic tarp
the synthetic tarp barks!
well kept dog in the distance
tries daily to be free


lesser mythological cabana
house dream
white shack vamped
re-damped
broke lamp
questionable camp
grounds are bleak says one
there's a quartz leak says the other


All the way down the dusty road
to meet at a dead end of faded white linen
blazing red embroidered tampered tantrums
temperate contours in the night
with ease, a lizard in the kitchen






















































































.

June 24, 2015-Berlin >Toronto

I understand,

I don't like ice either

says the flight attendant

to the passenger




















































































































.

Flight- Glasgow > Ibiza 07.2015

Synthetic brown
with a violet violent disaster strand
of what once was hair
hair which used to care
hair in which a mothers hand slipped through between fingers
hair which used to allow the wind to pass through
hair which has gripped the hot iron 2 minutes to long

Blue eyeshadow
I thought we were through
me and you
I thought I got rid of you
I threw you out years ago and here you are so bold and blue
trying to make a come back
a modern redemption intention
just look at you
and after all this time

Magenta peek-a-boos
I want to bleach you
mahogany chemically straigtened
synthetic replica your publicly confessing your sins
your turning yourself in

Old lady striving for youth
in pink mesh
and a revelated finger wave




























































































.

Beached

May 02.09.2015
Berlin-Lido di Venezia-Berlin


Berlin:

I woke up this morning to read a lonely text to read out of lonely eyes
We drank late morning tea out on the terrace
amongst the herb garden
at some point I cried
I avoided my flight all day
I changed out of my pyjamas into another pair of pyjamas
I ate two breakfasts
I made a mess when my intention was to clean
I didnt get my banking done
But I can imagine all will work out in the end
When I arrive at the Marco Polo airport
a man will be waiting for me holding a sign with my name on it at the arrivals gate
He will drive me 40 minutes somewhere to my hotel
for the rest of the week I will live in a tent


Soundtrack: “Holding a Sign With My Name on it”


Lido:

Pitched tent
narrow road
the sea just hangs off its sleeve
like any good freeloader would
the sky darkens
a machine made shadow
and a cruise ship bands the sky
hovering over houses
like a cross between an elephant and a private eye
the sweet little Italian man
dressed casually to the nines
can only step a quarter of a foot at a time
but he walks
he never hails a taxi
I've seen him shuffling all about town
everyday he makes it home for dinner
the man in a smooth navy . length walking coat and black shades
stands at the ledge of the boardwalk reflective horizon line glisten listen
off a single sheet of classical prose he recites a forgotten vernacular to the seaside
his hands jarring the air loose lines in the wind
the sun icing over his silver hair while greasing his sienna skin
he turns back around to his friend who is sitting on a wooden bench
the man perched out his Venezian window sill
holds his landscape with his upper body with immensity
later in the evening he is passes by in a wheelchair
with immensity
house red and escargot
the people sitting to the right of me may be from my home town
my home town
at what point in our lives do we start to use words like 'wow' and 'jeez' as points of eviction
sans seaside mermaid delay
farce energy display
aquatic metallic pink fitted gathering
sunrise drop surprise
red lips
moonlight
joker sadness
stacker assemblage
if you look down the red and blue strobe spot light
looks burgandy and brown
feet move
feet move!!!
ladder lays lateral
bright light dark path
face block head lamp
but of course,
desert visage
sandy blonde salt sea hair
bearded beauty
eyes the colour of fader kelp
smoked taupe wool knit sweater with a button
bags out at the sleeve
casual khaki slacks hang loose
sun bleached chestnut skin with age will turn into historical saddle brown
leather memories through creases
collective narratives through genuine approach
how to consider the sun while holding tight under the moon
his embrace
his hands


Soundtrack: Post magic more magic


Berlin:

Don't forget the South


























































































.

Side Note

I have been writing non stop


its just not here


the next additions will not be in order date wise....but i will do my best


to maintain


coping

































































































.

Saturday, February 14, 2015

(People have callings. your favourite teacher, had a calling)


okay I'm gonna write back now


Hey Firas,

so sorry I have to cancel today but do you want to meet  me at Bateauiver for breakfast

tomorrow at 11?




No I gave to be at Demo at 12

I think its look like not working between us

Demo for Syria


Don't like



























































































.