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

Pigments


The Pigments on our skin separate more than blend.
Mr. ROY G. BIV refuses to mix with his teammates.

The Colors on the nations palette upend themselves turning

their backs on each other.
Using jewel encrusted spades I’m digging myself a new
space in which to be planted in order to bloom.
As I dig I hit diamonds ancestor black coal who tells
me my value.
Coal and diamonds. Each has a different value and worth.
What is mine? You answer. I obey.
I am an inmate within the institution. No longer worthy
of a human heart. I am an automaton programmed
to receive and absorb abuse, degradation, and hate.
Though the Masters have crushed my thinking heart
time and time again they have forgotten my neural cortex…
but I remember. I see. I plan my revenge. My escape.
The time has come for the slave masters to reap the
vengeance of the downtrodden.
We have taken up arms. We have hidden weapons within
our brain cells. The revolution is nigh.
Tonight we burn down the masters house and assume his rank
and position.

Diana and the Stag Maker: Joachim Friess (ca. 1579–1620, master 1610) Date: ca. 1620
Diana and the Stag
Maker: Joachim Friess (ca. 1579–1620, master 1610)
Date: ca. 1620

You have spied out my beauty with smug self assurance.

Now I shall cast you to the dogs who will tear you

limb from limb leaving only cracked bloody bones

outside the palace gates.
Tonight the tables are turned and those once drones now become Queens and Kings.
Has not the word proclaimed that Ethiopia shall rise again?
Arise my Empress. My Queen and be received to your throne once again.