Are Self-Exploding Beings inwardly Imploding?


 

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

 

Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi
Imran Qureshi

All Photos are the artwork of Imran Qureshi

Seraph shall bear fruit in the time of seed not in the season of man


Seraph shall bear fruit in the time of seed not in the season of man***********************

Banyan Tree
Banyan Tree

Seraph sat on a freshly painted sepulchers remembering the future and forgetting the past. Pondering the worn dusty trail as it disappeared as thru evaporated water dried under Old Sol’s blistering heat but she didn’t have enough phases to set the stage.

The Murmur of our Passageways died on dry prairie plains.  They stood out like freshly broken welts surrounded by lichen decay buried under low-lying sarsens mossy creepers encompassing the split trunks of lightening formed saplings.  In the distance she could detect smoky ravaging flames for miles beyond illuminated vistas.

The stratosphere was opulent with midwinter bouquet and taciturn looks.  So cold a coarse skinned frog sprinted for miles seeking refuge in lined bark as leaves dangled wilting out of sync with the its sulk.

Daylight dissolved as nocturne appeared sky midnight blue black sprinkled with constellations of stars.  We watched the horizon meld into inky blackness as dense clouds moved in blanking out welcome cerulean moonlight.

Leafy seadragons cling to drifting seaweed. Emperor Tamarin lie ensconced in bough brushwood.  White-faced Saki Monkey has imbibed too well and now begs pause. Tapirs Forage using prehensile snouts. Proboscis Monkeys give Jimmy Durante a run for his money.  Narwhal do battle under the ocean holding majestic swordfights for our viewing pleasure.

Let us take our flint tools and populate empty kingdoms.

Our bodies became ornaments of praise sounding the universe.  Let us open the door and together step into the unexplored.

Bodhi Tree Buddha
Bodhi Tree Buddha

Midnight drifted among cooled soporific shades whilst light languorously filtered through tree tops that met high snow-capped mountains.  Dusk blanketed the sleepy township as she cut lengths of vine, made pliable from being pulled hand to hand threading liana sharply through forked branches.  Give it a hot scrub. Wring it through grasses, cattails, green meadows bathed in the humidity of a plummeting sun. Gargantuan knobby helixes braided roots as thick as a man’s body birthed Banyan and Bodhi fire walking as stones exploded beneath their bare feet.

A splash was heard inside the water, into the corpse of Jupiter pushing up Easter Island. The earth was droning, weighty and syrupy after the slenderest shower. One could taste the whirring churrup of insects singed by the blazing eclipse.