Thursday, October 13, 2016

World Art Post Commemoration

Global Conspiracy Of Now Mail Art Call

Reed Altemus Artist stamp Sheet

Wednesday, October 12, 2016

FeMailXX Looks Back On HisStory

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Heaven's Test

 Kisses     of Paint
                               crimson red 

                                violent blue              
                       the lips
                                      of gods

   Gleaming and wet
                                                 like tears of glass
                                                    sweet and sharp


                                          the body's pain.

                                        At twilight's streaming
            from the tip   of a brush 

                                      Desire Runs,

into a pool  
                      OF PIGMENT.

in narcotic rhythm                                                                                              

forty lashes 
                        STAIN THE FLESH .
The colors 
           Heaven's test.


Friday, October 21, 2011

Void explained

My Lady,

The void: I responded to you that I had an experience of it. That was false, I never have. If it exists, it is a paradox. How can there be nothing, except as vacancy within a border that then becomes something, another object? There is only everything. I will go back to Jung re: void. What I felt in the momentary experience mentioned to you, was not one of void, but of simultaneous expansion and contraction, of timelessness, of everywhere and nowhere, of utter dislocation and merging without borders on a cosmic level. It was IMMENSE. When I sucked it all back in and opened my eyes I was born for the first time, and the millionth time. It was very strange, the immediate sense of "no, I am not you, I am I". And I sensed a deep memory, a first awakening... the eyes, beautiful, stunning, a profound grounding.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

Nine, Oh'Nine, Oh' Nine, Oh'Nine, Oh'Nine


Sunday, July 12, 2009


Plato's Bed

The Bog of Mankind
I see the human shell
Sinking into the humus of historical context
Absorbing even the Classical Greek edicts about how 'drapery should reveal the form'
The drapery index lost
Sinking into the matrix
Into which also the body,
Decomposed but still somehow sensate
Is also in the process
Of being organically digested
And it is Plato's Forms:
No Space
No Time
Laying hard
Beneath the covers

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Collective Thoughts

Thoughts on collective thoughts:

the momentary experience
not void
but simultaneous
expansion and contraction
utter dislocation
without borders
cosmic embrace
sucked back in
for the first
nay millionth time
an immediate sense
of deep memory
a finial wakening
the gaze
so stunning
the voice
so beautiful
the ground
liquid traces
of me
and you