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

Any Size Mirror is Judgment


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.

Cloud Mists ~ For Lucy


https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/fog/#like-245700

Fog

Foggy Misty Morn Central Park
Foggy Misty Morn Central Park

Misty Foggy Morn

Foggy Misty morn over Central Park in the ball field
Foggy Misty morn over Central Park in the ball field

 

Cloud Mists ~ For Lucy

Mists Cloud your face yet never your smile, laughter, your cheerfulness, your precious spirit.  Life moves on but there will always be an empty space where you once stood.  You were a sweet and gentle soul. All the world is passing by and I want to shout, Stop! Wait a minute! Don’t you know a melody has ceased playing? A familiar song is now silent?  Here I remain stoic yet crying inside wishing I could reach through this veil of tears and take your hand once again.

20130930_074209
Misty Day

Remembrance

Though we be in the Autumn of our lives we still beam the Girlish Dreams of Youth. When the cord is cut mid-stream will our dreams be cast into the raging seas…..ashes scattered to the prevailing winds blanketing the Earth like so many strips of confetti after the parade has ended?

Are our dreams lost forever or merely transferred to future generations. When death stills earthly dreams do they take wings and fly towards the Heavens.  Do our Ancestors dream of those yet to join them? Are we the living dreaming Lineages cut short who seek a bloodline vessel?

Girlish dreams beckon faded broken bodies. Minds kindled by the flames of youth —- yet the structure could not hold.  BOOM!!  And ever so slowly and softly one million photographs gently wafted to earth to be gathered by the Memory Gleaners and placed in the gallery of Lost Souls.

Minnie Riperton: “Memory Lane”

http://youtu.be/2-Z2z5a4mQ4

 

Do Heavenly dwellers have earthly memories?  Can Memories transpose the veil?  And we, if we be close enough or strong enough then death will hold no obstacle.  Essence travels freely no longer bound by fleshly concerns.

Foggy Misty Morn
Foggy Misty Morn