Fade to Dark

On February 29, 2016February 29, 2016 By dancingpalmtreesIn Amy Winehouse - Back To Black, Basquiat, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Jimi Hendrix, Poems, Poetry, The World Is A Ghetto by War, Uncategorized

It’s Midnight…….. The time is now. Let us begin.

WAR- SLIPPIN INTO DARKNESS

Lake

From Obscurity to Ubiquity All was beautiful within the subatomic particles. The new fugue will taste very very quiet when there near the top dissociative phenomena Pulsar. There is a hurricane within our Atoms. Doppelgangers are flung everywhere. Why you gotta be so Rouged? Don’t you know that silent decibels still go hopping along? She came out at the Debutante’s Ball much to the consternation of the high flatulent guests. BLT ~~ Black Tie Lingerie.

Lunatic started coming out of the baby vomit green-gold vapors just minutes after sunset. Large creeping rolling along mountain range catacombs.

Moon sank in the thick hazes and left me in the dark. The War is a Ghetto….And the beat goes on……….

The World Is A Ghetto by War

Lacey silhouettes against dying sunset, Stolen Voices. Tubers made in a devotee liberty flair. She was a darkish grainy vinaigrette set against the night sky. Her body and mood seemed enveloped in sepia monotones. Grainy images gave her a tenuous hold on the world of corporeal bodies. Enchanted worlds bobbed up against her flimsy flesh. Whether in the body or out who knows? Daughter Zion once a captive now free to roam the land. Protector and Priestess. Calliope and Cassandra return to Alexandria, a continent secure once more. Gauzy membrane in need of repair.

Somebody breathe the reluctant dragon…the dragoon of unicorns and fairies who light the Night skies. gAs on the bEACH. gAs on the sHORE. wASTED dreams once again ignited.. Leprechauns march over untested territory. Garuda Zinnia dances gyrating lost peoples ambrosia. Cobalt electric glide until Hart Island gives up it’s inhabitants.

The Jimi Hendrix Experience – All Along The Watchtower (Official Audio)

Come Drink from the Hydro-thermal Cauldrons of Death! The calendar hung limited upon the wall gathering reflections from 1983. Graveyard plots morphing into drainage ditches carrying bones meant for estuaries. A Spite house wedged between luxury condos. The facade lined with a series of gargoyles faces each blinking out a sinister Morse code refrain.

I am a Mermaid Lost in Translation. OUrrrr Bodies emit from waterrrryyy graves. Up thru trap doors suited up shiny bright sideways with red bejeweled bowels leaking excrement slippers across the ocean floor.

Moonrise stars reflecting floating bloated corpses. Dolphin pallbearers carrying razor wire inter lost dead. Burying discarded treasures. Lives forgotten populate this poor man’s Necropolis.

FADE TO BLAcQ!!!!!!!!!!

FADE TO DARKNESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Amy Winehouse – Back To Black

Poetry For Peace

On December 24, 2015 By dancingpalmtreesIn Our Poetry Archive, Poems, Poetry, Sangsoptok, SONGSOPTOK, Uncategorized13 Comments

Merry Christmas! Happy Holidays! Happy New Year!

My Poetry is featured in this Online Poetry Magazine. Please click on the link and take a look while you celebrate the Holidays with family and friends!

http://anthologyofpeacepoetry.blogspot.com/2015/12/deborah-palmer.html

Banded Birdsong

On December 12, 2015 By dancingpalmtreesIn Poems, Poetry, Sorry, Wrong Number, The Matrix - Phone Time, Uncategorized

TM & Copyright © 2002 by Paramount Pictures. All Rights Reserved.

Banded Birdsong

Sitting on the back porch drinking wine. Toasting Jeremiah Bullfrog. Feeling so fine. Off in the distant backwoods tramp stolen miscarriages of justice……………

Dragging placenta smeared afterbirth like an eerie fairy tale that whispers more than words.

Sorry, Wrong Number (1/9) Movie CLIP – Overhearing the Murder Plot (1948) HD

“Wrong target please.” “Please redirect.” Recalculating. Calibrating new roads for grinning transcripts measuring obsolete eccentric interpretations.

“Redirect. Pick up the phone. Redirect. Pick up the phone. Redirect. Somebody please pick up the damn phone.”

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Don’t hang up. Don’t hang up.

The Matrix – Phone Time

Slam booth shut while I’m being absorbed into the receiver.

Phone chatter.

Activate.

Detonate.

BOOM!!

Sorry, Wrong Number (9/9) Movie CLIP – I Want You to Scream (1948) HD

Dust and debris reign down upon the sandbox. Rigor mortis bones crack down to the marrow. Waking sirens mourning stench.

Repopulate the database before the line goes dead. Super Id Ego Launch.

I poured my hand into the gaping hole beneath his rib cage.

Keep your eyes where my hands can see!!

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