Are Self-Exploding Beings inwardly Imploding?

On December 6, 2015December 12, 2015 By dancingpalmtreesIn 1%, Activist, America, Blood, cacophony, Cadaver, Creativity, Creator, Crushed, Darkness, Darwin Award, Death, DeBorah, DeBorah Ann Palmer, deception, Decomposing, Deliverance, despair, Detour, Dissonance, Dung heap, Embalming fluid, Empty Kingdoms, Evil, Explore, false profits, False Prophets, Fears, Gangrenous wound, Gory, hatred, horror, Hypnotize, Hypocrites, Infantile prattle, Innovation, Inquisitive, Isis, Koyaanisqatsi, Limbo, maggots, Memories, Memory, Museum, Nightmares, Outhouse, Pakistan, Poems, Poetry, Prisoners, profane, Revolution, Rivers, Sacred, Scorn, sorrow, Sword, Sympathy, Wicked5 Comments

Are the self-exploding inwardly imploding?

Not knowing that the seeds of their self-destruction reside quietly inwardly already taking root. Ready to root out fabricated dogmas.
Boston Bomb crushed avian souls flying towards Heaven. Chaos rules the lands. Demonic Fairytale stories being lit up global TV screens.
Carnage Couture is all the rage!!

Socialites debate levels of thinness while screaming crying babies suckle on long dried up teats.

Life continues on in glass castles unfazed by human suffering. Walking Stepford skinny chic walking decorations immobilized shields of Oil dollars. One piece of glittering jewelry could feed and house one thousand lost humanities. Let us trip the light fantasies weaving around hunger, blight and destruction all the while knowing it will never touch our gleaming manors. Golden parachutes always on hand.

Mankind marches on towards dinosaur extinction by our own hands. WinTourist DashKardian superficial fantasies supplicate the masses fill the empty plates providing empty calories while Rome burns. Politics, religion unreasonable fears of contamination. Moon-Skitters thrive on cell division.

Say Their Names!! Never allow their memories to fade!!

Our decision whether, how, & when to escape the matrix.

Are the Self-Exploding inwardly Imploding? Truth, Compassion, Understanding and Victory shall win out over evil, wickedness and animosity!! For the sacred has now become filled with the filth of the profane. An Outhouse disguised under the mantle of being a Holy Temple.

http://www.theguardian.com/artanddesign/2014/nov/23/imran-qureshi-ikon-gallery-birmingham-review-hauntingly-beautiful

http://www.artspace.com/imran_qureshi

All Photos are the artwork of Imran Qureshi

Romantic Lies and Deceptions

On December 8, 2014 By dancingpalmtreesIn Broken Angels, Broken Hearts, cacophony, Crushed, Dating, deception, Delusions, Depression, despair, Dissonance, Eros, Fears, Flesh, grief, horror, Koyaanisqatsi, Loss, Lost Souls, Love, Rejection, River Styx, Romance, Scars, Snake, soul, Spears, Stigmata, Swords, Uncategorized, Understanding, Unloved, Viper, Walking Wounded7 Comments

We are in Love with the idea of Love but Reality is oh so different. Romance is a broken down heap in an unused garage with a drunken clipped wing Cupid splayed out beside it swilling in his own vomit. The illusions of Cupid were shot down by his own arrows. Arrows tipped with poison that turn healthy beating hearts into gangrenous rotting putrid shells. Love is anxiety, disappointment, hurt, pain and stress coupled with fear. Vitreous Spears of viperous snakes slithering from brain to core corrupting of part of human life.

Last night I spied Venus and Mars exiting the House of the Rising Sun on their way to the local dive bar. Yup Love and War. Two sides of the same coin.

Cupid and his mother Venus are thinking of getting their own Reality show called Life’s Broken Dreams. Broken Dreams lead to Broken Hearts. Walk in the Light of Truth and kick both Cupid and Venus to the curb! The Steel Iron Armor has sealed my Amore and the key has been thrown in the River Styx.

Any Size Mirror is Judgment

On October 11, 2014 By dancingpalmtreesIn Armor, Broken Hearts, Crushed, Memories, Mirror, Powder3 Comments

Any Size Mirror is Judgment

Crushed to Powder ~ I want to pull myself inside out…….to avoid notice, I want to hide even from friends and allies.

I want to disappear from the world.

I want to erase all the hurt, pain and sorrowful memories from my mind.

My armor is weak. I have no defense. Layers of trauma enfold my Life so that I may never return to my former self. Yet I wear the Happy Face. I pretend for the benefit of those who have eyes but cannot see.

When can I be real? I grab for the ghosts of my parents. Their embrace still warm upon my skin. Yet memories rekindled fade into nothingness…Like trying to pick up a dream after awakening.

One cannot undo scrambled eggs nor can all my broken pieces ever fit together again. Some are scattered to the four winds. Others are crushed into dust. Most are lost never to be regained. One day the Phoenix will rise again and take Her place among the Ruling Goddesses.