Swim ahead to the future of nothing..

The side of the remote beach

Is so far away…

Almost like painting on the old canvas..

The sky is open to a few stars,

Their light is something that links to unknown..

Yellow and dark blue are mingled together

Giving glittering shine to the frozen water..

 

It is a time between night and another night,

But no one is there to see..

Strange sound comes and goes

Making stones fall asleep..

Magnetic crepuscular seems to be endless..

 

Starving for magic,

Amulets of wizards and rings of transparent witches  awaiting the finger

To be put on and render the power of imagination..

Crushing stones leak ahead of waves

Though it is a storm no one can perceive..

But painting stills in the night of moon shed

That appears through the blind eye

Of possible disappearance..

 

Strange creatures, we have to make ourselves animals,

Yet, calculation comes across

And stiffs  the mind of us – casual parasites…

Wave by wave,

Stone by stone – the light of mesmerizing shine

Hits the shore of the dark land

Where the Moon of thousands candle lights

Swims ahead to the future of nothing..

 

Shadows of lost imagination

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Notes from the occupied totality

I do call myself an artist,

Am I?

No answer..  Art is nonhuman paradox.. Humans are not invented-they were produced..

The work of machine has property to be oiled time to time…

The processors of working bots must be occupied by puzzles…

Art is puzzle, as so it is close to philosophy,

Philosophy is a way to legalize nothingness,

And make mouths and heads of deliberately constructed fools busy…

There are some tiny cracks though… 

 

Go ahead,

Stop and turn back,

Turn left,

Turn right,

Go forward,

Come back again..

Think nothing

Without a head,

Think in words and without..

 

The puzzle of reality is absence of such,

Non-reality is real,

The realization of real is in words only..

Words are not real for purpose

Then go there where nowhere is..

 

Keep eyes stumbled upon,

They are little worms of penetration..

If one wants to know what is spirit-

One must drink it up..

 

Total absurd,

Inside and out,

Operation stills,

Only sky and river

And Mountain gives a fresh breath..

But not be fooled-

The wildness is just a short break,

A chance to escape

From occupation…

 

Notes from the occupied totality


Scream the

Scream –

is so laud that it cracks the ice of impossibility..

Cry –

is so tragic that single tear becomes a rainfall..

Empty body –

is so hollow that one could not even find the remains of brain..

Nothing –

is so nothing that all words and objects are engulfed in there..

Truth –

Makes our heads square,

Trust –

Makes our vision gone,

Lie –

is everything what we have..-

-Strange animals rendered to nakedness,

Mirrored inside the mirror –

The lowest creatures

Ugly, greedy, and angry,

Always hungry for flesh

Gobbling and discharging –

-Toxic parasites

Use love to cover abuse,

Commit crime to name it –love..

Impasse for the stupidity,

Deadlock for the constant degradation..

 

Yet, still some moves are here

On the surface of nothing..

Shadows are never go alone..

 

Poetry as a weapon


Hell and Haven sleep together on the one bed

In order to describe things we shell go through the transformation which must change the narrow vision of sights –channeled and predisposed perception of that what we have called the world.

World is out to –

The multiple reality of condense perceptive practices…

 

It is not possible to describe impossibility,

It is not impossible to go through the impasse,

Yet it is very convenient to do so

For the certain kind of beings –

Humans…

They are manifestation of impossible,

They prey to nothing,

They love nothing for the sake of hate,

They do hole to jump in it…

Their body is full of processes –

All of them are converted into the money…

 

Money is nothing but debt,

Debt is obligation to kill,

To be assigned to the money means to become mercenary…

Despair rules across the minds of few,

Hope is everything for many –

You are not a philosopher,

You are not an artist,

You are simple virus of destruction…

To think, to talk, to write,to communicate-

To do nothing but obey to the rule of the one road way…

 

For those who still want changes

There is only advise:

Hell and Haven sleep together on the one bed,

Wake them up and kick both out…

Recollection must be deep enough to transform the bones

 

 

Poetry on the wall of invisible garden


Never and before

One can stay far away and think about closest things

That one day would evolve into something else unseeing.. 

Reflection upon material world is nothing but another projectile to prompt unknown..

 

Art can tell the truth,

If someone wants to buy – it is not for sale,

If someone does not – it is available for highest price..

Art knows nothing but reflection,

The humans are animals but animals are humans too,

Both draw  their own art – the picture is surface of life..

Where:

No one is real but imaginable,

The sea storm struck hard,

The wind blows head away,

Shipwreck is amazed by low sky..

Go and sip some spirit –

It is a time to fly,

Dancing with ugly beast together

On the verge of crushing universe

-Never and before, with arms stretched cross..

 

New poetry archive

 


About nothing to be said

Knife and couple glasses of poison make no difference on front of sudden blow of wild wind..

 

Words are chasm to fall..

To say something, and something again, and again something –

To say nothing and keep silence..

Silence if kept forever is death,

The death is nothing but absence of words..

 

Ask the wind that blow today

Where do words go?

One should make her eye to turn inside,

And make a twist to shed the light

In darkness of Abyss..

One should distort the shadows,

To torture them, to cut them into pieces,

Assemble them again in words,

And make them speak like stones..

 

Look, I wanted to write the words

About that I cannot speak,

About something without shape and taste,

Escaping all of that what can be said or named or called –

Have not succeed I,

Because restrictions have been set before..

One must  to say, to name, to read the words about words about other words

In endless fashion – in a loop about nothing to be said..

The story goes on and on,

The end is end but has to be postponed

Unless one make all words to be transformed

To Glass of Knife with poison frozen song…

 

Still your lips do the motion and tongue tries to help…

No, the order of things has been changed…

 

 

The Way of Samurai without sword 


Action Art: visible and invisible are equal

Make your reflection mute,

Prepare your eyes to visualize,

Activate your hands to move quickly and grasp precisely,

Warm your legs as if you are going to dance,

Relax do not be afraid everything is imaginable! Let your double to help you!

Action art does not belong to the gallery and or museum and or collectors and or dealers – this is simply a way of doing with the eye penetrating the layers of so-called reality. Assembling and disassembling realities or inventing another way of perceiving is an aim of Action art. At such extent, the art is connected to the intuition rather than to the rational mind.

Rational mind is pure contradiction as rationality itself constructs the world ruled by greed of such a scale that it annihilates its own source – the mind, and promulgates irrationality.  Therefore, we claim the new era of intuition to come and Action art is going to be a major tool of new operation. There is no end and no beginning but the comprehensive scenes of opening and closing, and starting over again. There is no final object to be placed into a someone procession but the process of continuous transformation.

The constant search for the cracks and escapes makes our lines vivid. Action artist draws them on any accessible surface whether by using tools or just by own imagination. The eyes can draw and paint everywhere inside and outside; there are no walls, no restrictions for the painting by eyes.

We bring objects in this world, we place them, and we discard them – the objects are manifestation of Action artist imagination. We have power to transform things as soon as we touch them with our brush or with our extended eye.

Action artist becomes a vehicle for creative transformation –we do not sell or buy or exchange, we just do. If we sell, buy, or exchange – we also do it as an act of Art action. We opt to remove the object and subject as a commodity inscribed into the hierarchy of power – we make them flow.

Visible and invisible are equal. Invisible can become visible and vice verso. We know the reality is invented by agreement thus we have freedom to travel back and forward, inward and outward. We never uncover our destination if there is one. Action artist’ goal is always the next.

Hard world of destiny and believes is byproduct of fear and possession. We do not reject it – we paint it over. Our poetry is in our fingers – our brushstrokes are our words. We sculpt invisible into a moment of observation and then let it disappear.

Action artist goes by the road discovered through painting. Action artist puts signs and symbols, writes and draws on the sidewalk’ stones aiming to trace the way between imaginable and unimaginable.   Endless path is paved by the Art actions.

We foresee the future in the past, and in the past we are already far ahead of the future. All are visionary nothing has been proved and never will.

 

Molecular: Manifesto Action Art, No-concept_Action by intuition