Category: art
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the Goodie
…. the chrysalis releases its diamond cargo which uncrinkles itself, which flutters its amythest wings and alights beside a ruby hummingbird on a hypocrytical cactus…
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On the other side of these dark hills.
Night time running stream outside below my Hassocks window heavy rushing bubbling pouring stream very full of water tumbling off the South down hills, outside at end of garden, in this Sussex English countryside darkness. Some trees then night time fields stretching away to the gently sloping hills: the South Downs: a dark wave…
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The Walkers
The Walkers, this time, make their way up the solid, vertical wall, picking their way carefully, between cacti and airvents. “Who?”asks Vermont Rosewater. “The jars!” spits back the Vehement and they almost stroll past the vertical Windows, gobstoppers in their intricate, little rosebud-mouths.
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Now comes a dawn crammed full of birdsong
Now comes a dawn crammed full of birdsong – of riches beyond imagining. Cloth-eared – running – scared, monumental in the grey dawn’s cloth-eared light, transandental yet inconsequential, it rotates endlessly, effortlessly, stupidly, towards tomorrow.
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golden boxes
Call me for luxurious items. l do not refer them to you or anyone else. Only the sun warps our shadows as they spatter the raw tarmac with dark, ominous pools.
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grrrrr…
grrrr…. the hole punchers chatter and dilute the truth and dribble it into glasses of alcohol free absinth while the Grand Master Klingon beseeches sad Hercules to give him one more chance, “Give me – please” he sobs and H. turns the other cheek, ” Wack away oh Grand Master Klingon” he sneers, lovingly. Meanwhile outside their…
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Greetings. This is my ME Blog.
Greetings. This is my ME Blog. For me only. It is pure, self -indulgent, sanity keeping self-expression. l put whatever comes up in me. It helps balance all the control type stuff I have to do in daily life – like shopping, planning, admin, meetings, organizing agh !! l begin to go crazy just thinking…
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The pink dawn
Born out of nothing, born from the void I stumble into bar-rooms and lift myself from the floor I count the horseless carriages that niosely pass by And the pink dawn spreads its insipid bloodstain across the sky A rabid dog slinks into a shadow alley, its hairless tail between it chicken legs. I pass…
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…and, with haste, the Diplomats 2
8/12/2012 …and, with haste, the Diplomats scrambled together over the splintered wooden cloisters that lay in a idle, higgledy-piggledy manner, where they had fallen. “No meditation today”, said Diplomat 1 to Diplomat 4. “No, indeed!”, retorted Diplomat 2, a little too vehemently. …and the locusts sang.
Tony Chapman-Art Music Writing 