World Art Post Commemoration

Global Conspiracy Of Now Mail Art Call

Reed Altemus Artist stamp Sheet

FeMailXX Looks Back On HisStory

Heaven's Test

                   

 Kisses     of Paint

                               crimson red 

                                                   

                                                    and

                                violent blue              

wept 
          across
                       the lips

                                      of gods

                                                   offer 
                                                            complete 
                                                                              
annihilation.

   Gleaming and wet

                                                 like tears of glass

                                                    sweet and sharp

numb

                                          the body's pain.

                                        At twilight's streaming

                                       

      

            from the tip   of a brush 


                                      Desire Runs,

into a pool  
                      OF PIGMENT.
 

LUSH AND DEEP  
in narcotic rhythm,                                                                                                

                             

forty lashes 
                        STAIN THE FLESH .

                            

                      

                                               

The colors 

 rest...
           Heaven's test.




                                                                                                                

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.

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

 

Plato

Plato's Bed

Ground
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

Collective Thoughts

Thoughts on collective thoughts:

Void
the momentary experience
not void
but simultaneous
expansion and contraction
timelessness
everywhere
nowhere
utter dislocation
merging
without borders
cosmic embrace
nighttime
IMMENSE
distance
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