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2016: The Year of The Dead Artist

Ground control to Major Tom Ground control to Major Tom It's time we all reach out, Major  for something new that means you, too Planet Earth is blue and there's nothing you can do,  Something's ain't right Something's bugging you, Major Tom,  you were broken  before the sky would open. But Major, There's a crack in everything and that's how she got in. And you want to travel with her, Major and you want to travel blind. She took the grey skies out of your way turned a bright spark into a flame. Now,  you're floating in the most peculiar way, the stars start to look different, under the purple rain. Hallelujah, Hallelujuah you start to fade you even forget her name Hallelujah, Hallelujah and everything went wrong still Suzanne kept your song. Can you hear me, Major Tom? Can you hear me, Major Tom? Can you hear me, Major Tom? Can you hear me, Major Tom?     this is a tribute to David Bowie, Prince, Leon...
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and the sun

what is the truth. The revelation  the Illumination,  How can it be found, where, when and why.  Through the sky in springtime  flowers rise to greet the sun. Sits a girl  on a hill smiling ablaze  with sun fire fire sun. The illumination is the sun even in the moon is the sun.  Sun is dead and vividly  alive. Manifestoes of the sun, it's here has always  been  near, the sun burns an ode to fire the sun kisses  an ode to love the sun rises  an ode to tree the sun sets an ode to death.
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let in

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We’re always trying to let go we forget to let in. To let in the hot lava of emotions, feelings and thoughts. To let in forgiveness and vengeance. To let in happiness and anger. To let our selves in. The entirety of us in. The human experience, the whole journey, the road. It is when we truly let our whole selves in, we start to see the self clearly; how all feelings and thoughts are legitimate, how everything is part of Nature, part of them, part of us. There’s no wrong or right feeling; Nature is angry, happy, vengeful and peaceful. One does not cancel the other, but we can most certainly neutralise it. Just like Nature herself does. She burns down Pompeii but then gives us a flowing stream nourishing us in her wicked ways. Wicked. Nature is Wicked. Wickedly good. Wickedly bad. All-encompassing. And so are we, children of Nature, intensely wicked, vengefully wicked, Beautifully wicked.
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f a d e d

Vivid images of a faded dream A ruin of nothing The taste of dust and happiness in the air A ruin of everything The smell of you on my hands Droplets of sweet blood left in my wake A shattered glass was all it took To exile my love away A shattered glass that was once a depiction A tangible illusion left to decay The sound of sour laughter and a thought Why is it, that after all this time This does not Hurt.
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Velvet skies and purple dreams. We all dream; even if we don’t remember, we all do. It’s our internal language, a language that precedes all languages, an ancient form of communication, the oldest miscommunication. It’s inherent, it’s physical, it’s visceral. It’s ours and it’s us. The purest form of an “I”. Yet, we let a trivial and empty thing called “practical life” get in the way of Nature’s monologue.
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Poison

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Poison is attractive. To me, at least. There’s an appeal in Darkness; for light is abundant. But everything should be a choice; because, at the end of the day, there’s nothing more attractive than Freedom; and that’s when Darkness ceases to be appealing and poison becomes a prison; a perpetual state of toxicity and waste. Very apocalyptic and ugly. The bad kind of apocalyptic and ugly, the one we should stay far away from in order to maintain our Freedom, our own State of Mind. In order to maintain Ourselves. Bask in the Darkness, but, don’t drown in it.  Photo by me. 
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Disconnect: Purple Man

Discarded signs and Ignored voice The gaiety of life Has sometimes been Vexed For it often times resides On the quiet side of the Chasm Reality is a pruple man Wounded but very much Alive Too alive Too aloud Too concerned with mortality
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Coming Back

Coming back From the dark candy shop With the grey swirlies ice cream Cones And black Lollies I’m full I’m sick I’m feeling like myself I’ve come to identify me By the road back From that candy Shop To the eden garden Of colourful rose petals I’m not there I’m not here I’m Coming Back
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