Succumb Time EMC AOD 10.30 11.11.2016
Succumb Time EMC AOD 10.30 11.11.2016 The Seirenes are coming Dead! Dying. What is my mind on about, she thought. That’s
Tumescent Terminus PTCA PK et al 11.11.2016 @11.11
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License. Tumescent Terminus PTCA PK
the locust plague of unquestioning unctuousness is detrimental to all living things diving into the prurient pit
you settle in your mind that brings are as they seem then Midas appears
In a world of things and internet of things;the wanting-the desirous eyes-the fleshy temptation-the sensuous conceit:are fleeting heartbeats and lifelong aches
it incalculable the lengths that humans will go to hatred. love is an empty and hollow emotion so much so little so pathetic
it’s impossible to assemble the disassembled mind of heroes
they are substitutes for the eventuality of what you consider irrelevant but to them it was relevant
deep intense lover savaged by the mocking inane and orgulous society who rips (rip) your heart out and gnaws it
asking unwittingly but the depth of hatred evolves into a smirky smile of distaste: you can see it in their eyes- smell it o
the evolution of time dispenses such centrifugal and contrapuntal mind sets that any kind of alignment is beyond evolutions remit
The evolution of time dispenses such centrifugal and contrapuntal mind sets that any kind of alignment is beyond evolutions re
the wayfarer coiled around the sea draining it of dreams subsumed by anodyne insinuations and fuck you’s
when the sea subsumes you with its watery gift of sinking pulls you down WITH WORDS and FLOAT
it started on the edge of reason when there is in fact no reasonableness in the purity of reason: only destruction
the human is the must convoluted complexing lying charlatan to ever have graced my earthly space
I drank you from a cup of coffee today
I drank you from a cup of coffee today There were your foamed initials resting incomprehensibly on the hot fluid. It felt awkw
A Christmas Childhood by Patrick Kavanagh-Solitude-Isolation-Memories as then is today:with more comes more
a poem that invokes times past of how good the celebration was of hearts that were tired and broken, where sowing the seeds of
tempestuousness in the beautiful man cannot be contained
tempestuousness in the beautiful man cannot be contained in this already restrained animal. the constant and consistent demand
splurt here comes the volcanic eruption of heat and passion: he’s arrived-DEEP TIME BBC4 short cuts Josie Long
what a man he's too beautiful for me just the feel of him would have me subsumed and enveloped by fire
Untethered lust meets up with erotic sensory pleasure: HIMnHER
Eros God of Lust and erotic pleasure was not divined erotic God for no reason, everything sensory was his to play with.
Unquenchable pleasure:why-how-id-FROM THE HEART JOSIE LONG BBC4
https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m0007wvz JOSIE LONG Unquenchable pleasure:why-how-id
Desire Line Shortcuts with ‘Josie Long’ is the perfect metaphor to describe how we became magnetised
it's that unexplainable connection from deep in somewhere, out there, in there, up who knows it's the unexplainable which make
Slowly suffocated the asphyxiation surrenders the heart unknowingly to hell-BBC 4 sounds Dante and his inferno
When we are slowly suffocated the asphyxiation surrenders the heart unknowingly to hell-BBC 4 sounds Dante and his inferno
Raw material is sculpted to divine intervention by you
there is the inner man who wants the strange woman to fuck-he likes it so does she
KISS of LIFE KISS of DEATH when his baton conducts the way of life
KISS of LIFE KISS of DEATH when he believes his baton conducts the way of life
Death cuts you up and you can’t explain fucking why. Is it the way it came from nowhere, somewhere out there. The silence that’s not visible until you feel it then it wraps all in a visceral explosion of grief.
when death cuts you up-lying there waiting for God
In Juxtaposition We are Raised Beyond the Insatiable
When it is another day it’s another story
when it's another day it's another story, you can't change it even though you think you've freedom it's already set. Don't fig
When it is another day it is another story
when it's another day it's another story, you can't change it even though you think you've freedom it's already set. Don't fig
Protected: When saatchiart-opens up what’s open the tache-noir
There is no excerpt because this is a protected post.
When he kissed her the sun looked down on death as it always does: Imeteta saw her soul come
When the Silver Case Releases the unexpected
When the Silver Case Releases the unexpected I waited. Some women are not aware of me-you are not one of them-you try to ope
When it is beyond the scope of the mind to iterate every nuance
When it is beyond the scope of the mind to iterate every nuance When I opened that silver box-something happened- Hemingway Ha
When Ra was particularly incensed by this daedal earthly, beautiful, intervening sorcerer he had to delve in….
Amidst all this rhythm and concord Apophis God of Chaos reigned happily. This earthly creative human made his hypnotic stare m
When she was flummoxed by the convolution
Beauty is deeper than you can know
When Imentet was awoken by the iminent soul-she knew it was due but it was all rushed now. She hurried to her look out tree-then Ra saw him….saw the act he was going to perform……..
When death arrives it is looking for a way out not a way in. Bíonn suil le breith ach ni bhíonn suil le huaigh
When a heart is served inadvertently on a plate to a man of pantomime it elucidates actions beyond comprehension. He is a stranger or is it she is the stranger, two strangers look at each other in a tempestuous whirl then looking through the glass bottom magnified a thousand times she falls into his philosophically absurd, beautiful disguised world: fleshy, sexual, sensual, surgical.
When a heart is served inadvertently on a plate to a man of pantomime it elucidates actions beyond comprehension. He is a stra
When Horus enters the body you know it. Life is never the same again, fate drives this dipsomania for Horus it’s illogical. It’s exquisite. It’s magic that doesn’t make sense-what’s sense when it’s Horus-sky-sun-moon driver of the heart.
When Horus enters the body you know it. Life is never the same again, fate drives this dipsomania for Horus it's illogical. It
When it’s a struggle thinking of a pussycat whose claws are so cleverly sharp that the Skylark doesn’t stand a chance. Whose immediacy is so immediate and bursting with fervour the mind contracts into a black hole. You die here. In silent passion. Dead.
When it's a struggle thinking of a pussycat whose claws are so cleverly sharp that the Skylark doesn't stand a chance. Whose
When the world is in a state of chassis, where the humans don’t think they are part of nature-but nature itself-the Earth needs to be left alone-when a child runs the world with no plan
When Inside everyone is controlled hatred if there wasn’t society wouldn’t work. When it is let out by the masked savages of Cavan:Chickens-Bullies- there’s uncontrollable hatred let lose on humanity. Don’t talk to me of save the environment. It is dead.
Inside everyone is controlled hatred if there wasn't society wouldn't work. When it is let out by the masked savages of Cavan-
When a kitten unlike a tiger poses without self consciousness
When a kitten unlike a tiger poses without self consciousness
When she feels the net closing in on her breath
How do you describe the most intensely sexually erotic non-event that ever happened to you-it is like an out of body glorifyin
When the Skylark caught that caducity of being in his eyes
When the Skylark caught that caducity of being in his eyes
When fate looks back in fury at him
When fate looks back in fury at him
When his heart is in your gut it palpitates to ars amatoria
When his heart is in your gut it palpitates to ars amatoria
When a Skylark touches the heart of a woman she falls into the shadowlands
When a Skylark feels death his brain sings an ode to joy for what was, is, will be
When touching myoclonus the ocean will wash over you: breathe softly
myoclonus is a state of cusp on deeper oceanic sleep. A sense of unsettling tidal waves breaking over your body. Intoxicated b
When his roots grow deeper than a primative drive and art stimulates it
When in that hypnagogic state my inner divine animal drives me to him
the cosmos drives a human but with the anchors and distractions set down by humans life has little meaning
When his psyche is dominated by civilisation and his prehistoric animalism is dying
his mind is not hard to read but he has being overpowered by the civilised and won't follow the depths of his soul, where love
When Any Birth Insinuates a Mythic Creation
birth of any kind is never simply a beginning but a continuum of history as was as is as will be
When He Drops His Mask…Fucking Hell
When There Are Four Sides to Human Love
Human love is four sided It is more than a double entendre, beginning, foreplay, climax, end its intensity knows no bounds the