Taxi Man!

'M LOST!
..scream cats..
...stray memos...
....wooz me?....
TaXi Man!
C'mon TaXi Man
C'mon
C'mon
(i'm the supervisor gimme your number.............?)
-TAXI MAN!!

well
i was joking
that's my game, you already know.
Good
this
so not so strange paint
is
NoW
with
us all

but (?) then again
it will be
dead in museum
a
corpse
a
nothing
so very important

(me, i paint, & i do not lik thiz kinda ov things)
(they seeem cruel & capitalist & ...lies)

I
hope
1
ov
me
paintin's
will
b
rob
bed

yeah, i'll enjoy it

VK Productions (they R payin' me, u know)
2006, Now

I've Seen The Light!

Dark it was
the sky and life
But
(always that "but")
deep in me
I was asking 4 a 1 answer

Well, i got none.
Maybe, just maybe, i did'n have the right questions

But (that same "but")
Light Came Upon Me:
Gods, yep, just like to play dice,
oh, they do,
yes they do

Or the Youniverse could never Be
(einstein u were wrong here)

So
i'm still free
(with no answers...but it's OK)

seven seconds and your ...
songs play it

So
i'm younger than
(as matter of fact, i am not here...you krazy consumers, this iz jzust a blog!)
than
that light

(3245176524000x103 Light Years)

guess i gotta change my LSD dealer
fuckin' bourgeois reality
with so that many quid pro quo's

and
yet
slaves
with
color metallic
obnoxious (vz) automobiles

you donn exizt
u'r xadows

BUT
me
I've
seen
that
Light!

theea light ov gods
qwarqs
livia, Plurabella
qwarrqs
so many
that
this
minor
song
izen tang led
oll
ove
r

dat's itt
VK

Dead End

-dead end street, man.
Cool, rainy wet thinkin'
Bars and tertulia and gipsy women and red red wine
and
nostalgia (drunkard word)
-it's an old song of the kinks, ya know that?
-yep, -he mumbled, cigarett flashing.

Maybe Tangier
maybe nowhere
(the hot smell of hash and tea and the adventure of the words unspoken...)

Maybe in Stalag 7
maybe in a 2nd flat
stereo
view
over the other prisioners
free men, with progeniture
car down
cat inside
rats all over the condominium

-Dead end street, yeeeaah, dead end street...

Kinks music
Tangier
Vulkan...

THIS IS NOT

This is not a love story
this
is
what a love story
should never be:
misery naked
portfolio of no more lies

and yet
we, human machinery, go on
thinking
that
this
is enough

It is Not

Life, Love
is not
plastic rubber tires
nor
plastic female smile

Wars came and went
men cry and smile

and
impotent
we consume
vulgarity

modern slavery
modern survival

Are you happy?
Are you Free?
Are you ready to Live?

Why are you so coward
so normal?
Are you Human, after all?

In the end
heart & guts & smell
and
a nothing
written
on the way

You smell like shit
in a moonlight resort
3 stars sparkling
some rhum
some sex
some joy
with no future

plexiglas living

i just can't stand this bullshit of western thinking
paranoia
schizophrenia
stupidity

No More Words

-no more words, please
let me drink and smoke

i have nothing to do with your problems

i was just passing by

i saw your trouble
i saw your pain

but
the next tide is much more important
than that

sorry
me gotta go

you, i donn know

corto
me
just a blog, not Art
(keep it cool)

Feelings

you used to ...
no you don't seem so proud

YeAh, like a rubber tire on the beach
surf rolling stone

no secrets to conceal
a 1 zero
just shadow on the passage way
(Hello, they say)
How does it feel?
me used to ride safe
car, card, beer
theenyou night was part of that
by Xelas barrio, with smoke green of grass

now
rain blind mementos
of 1 day
you used 2 b so amused
but things (Donn know why) changed
no longer
fun
&
beer
&
China

So
it's just feeling
those feelings

of
a
primeval
sense
of feeling

well, stole image
prose mine

Slaves

and now you know
that everything is unreal
We
are all slaves
of our impotence

yes, my love, she said, smoking lucky strike
(well, if love is not love, if you is no longer a You, then...)

Slaves
Workers
Money
no more poetry in taberna
no more Joy

so long, honey babe
(he thought)

-Revolution, man, Revolution!
he said @ the Gas pump
me, sittin' smokin' good old hash, no worries
(seen worse days before)
but

she came, ballerina, rebel Dean night with a cause
he smiled
she smiled
(no revolution after all, i said to meself)

Just too many I Think That
Just too many I's (Me's, you better know what I mean)

proteins are we
and stucco
made by gods

the only thing different is
We want It!
We wanna Be!

If
God
(Gods of written Books)
thought We would behave like slaves
they, poor God fellows,
made a glorious Mistake

We go our Way
and that's It

to Guy Debord
IS
& me when i was older than that now

FIRST BLOOD

first moon
rockets fire insane near the border
sulphur smell
volcano lava
far
jets flash by
cold bullets fly
over the field of rocks
moonlight wars
just love this...,man...feel free, ya know
heads down!
100 meters
kaaaabooom splash
day & night
hell, is good 2 b 1 warrior here, ain' it ezra?
keep you' head down, phi!
The night thunders
misterycal
femalish
vagina
yep, iz a manz struggle, 'bra'him
no
moon all over the plateau, the little snake crawls...
rocks tepid summer hellmet sound
shots there
a rose flare 'gainst the moon
2 rockets fly over, jetting out
this can b fun, u knô
ô me ô my
trace bullets, cartoon type, red, zigging all over
3 jets vomit fire over the hill
and then whistling huge
hell

Hell
carcasses
metal junk with blood & muscle & bone & human things moving dead
heads without brain
legs carbon silver under moon
bellies smelling gasoline
sand on fire, yellow red
1 crazy just walkin flameboyant till fall
explosions of glass blue
and
dust
moon dust, i should say

who won?

Plastic Green

The End

Rotten flags
lost cities
killings
plastic green memory of an unknown soldier

the war that never was...

Images...

images of us, images
sepia colored already
yesterday's news

what is this?
is This living?
Human living?
When will the will ends?

So near
and
in the way
lost

we do not yet understand
the inner meaning of life and death

we are just
poor
souls
scavenging
the past

looking for the first ray of light

almost a dream

photo Reuters tansformed to sepia...

Wu Wei

So much Tzim-Tzum
So much Sufi Heaven

That much of rumble nothing.
i said this.
He says that;

Well, the moral of the story,
The moral of this song,
Is simply that one should never be
Where one does not belong.
So when you see your neighbor carryin' somethin',
Help him with his load,
And don't go mistaking Paradise
For that home across the road.

dylan
me
your war