Last Commented Art Blogs (253)

The drought brought forth cracks in my soil
As the seeds, carefully sown await
Under a black and white sky
I call the clouds to me as if I was their master

With gentle words like rain, he tends to me
Until the life in me awakens, in pale greens and yellows
New life growing outside of me links earth to sky

He is not a farmer who works the land
He is a steward of my fertile fields
Encouraging life in my land’s empty furrows, waiting
For his same tender hands to cultivate and harvest the best of me

Dusk
The splendor of the sky dazzled as an ornament. The sky, a golden furnace, robes of orange, mystic flames of purple all serenaded me like a catharsis. Angels on wings danced in the pulchritude of delight. Time has become a frozen dream of music. Evening is a tranquil lullaby, a poetic sonata of love. I watch the sun go into its hive. Dark has become a mourning night.

Dream
Had a strange dream—in this dream, a black cat was hissing at me; it was only a kitten. Looked at dream interpretations and it said: ‘I am afraid of my own intuition’. I am not fully convinced by the interpretation.

Illuminati
I joined the fraternity of the Illuminati today. Feel happy as a new born flower.

Herd on the raido that Hugh Masekela have pasted away..

This news was like apart of my world is no more..

It was a very hot after-noon sitting in a Breadfruit tree when I of Hugh Masekela for the frist time

His music from then have always stayed with me..

I think this might be his frist Lp coming out os South Africa..

Saw a yellow winged fairy floating in the air, dancing in psychedelic delight, showing off a magnificent opera of flight…dazzling me with a catharsis of sound echoing in colors, tuning into my mirth, a joyful song of love, a brilliant fusion of music, a soul of jazz, an epic poem, a beauty of passion, a nirvana so tranquil.


Saw flames of fire like tongues of music …they were swaying like many letters of the alphabet…I cast my eyes like a seer on them …I am drowned in their rich lyrical intimacy…they evoke in me a passionate ecstasy…is God devout speaking through the flames…the flames are a prophet of light …a diviner’s objet d’ art….

Those who dance
are consideerde insane
By those who cant hear the music
G,C,

The dark days are leaving,
Its time to think about this year

To do some thing positive in the world around me.
To take a big step into the New.

I have created a new avant gardist genre of fiction called Philosophical fiction. Philosophical fiction is post-post modern fiction. Philosophical fiction departs from the conventional modes of storytelling. There are no stories to tell anymore. There is also no plot line.
By using the mode of Philosophical Fiction, I have created an oeuvre called the Guernica. Philosophical fiction has been heavily influenced by the art movement of Picasso that is Cubism. Philosophical Fiction also incorporates the rhythms of Jazz. Here I leave an excerpt from the novel Guernica:
“

Philosophical fiction redefines aesthetics with the narrative incorporating the Baroque and the Blues. Philosophical fiction is the highest form, a novel can attain art. Various philosophical themes are examined through the literary motifs of art. Thus Philosophical fiction is a post-post modern, a poetic symphony of prose in narratives. In philosophical fiction the author and characters merge. Narratives in Philosophical Fiction draw heavily on the symbolism of tropes. Tropes are music in the language of poetry. Various themes of nature have been romanticized into an eclectic language of poetic prose. Philosophical fiction is a post-post modern adaption of the art of nouveau roman. The author in Philosophical fiction also indulges in the rich usage of the technique of the pastiche. Philosophical fiction uses the romantic language of the past with a postmodern fictional touch. Philosophical fiction is the art of impressionism of words, the art of cubist prose and the expressionism of the romantic. Philosophical fiction takes into account various philosophical themes and weaves them in a rich density of literary inter-textuality.

Stand on your box and write complete sentences. Try to incorporate more letters than punctuation marks

I listen to a song and think, she is lucky
I think I want someone like you
Over the horizon, maybe there's someone
like you
sadness mixes with happiness leaves me observing nature and its course

I listen to a song and think, she's lucky
I can't listen to some songs because of
Unluckiness? hemm Nothing worth posting
Only memories best kept in a box
In a world of harassment, I must be careful, finding a worthy muse

So many miles covered
On bare feet
Hurts to walk sometimes
Hurts to remember
If only thoughts didn't hurt and we could be ourselves

I think of you and am grateful
to know what I know
Because you showed me
Teacher, when will I pass?
When will I learn enough not to get hurt, waste time?

You say "Hi" and lend an ear
Within a few minutes, you have me
I can't be silent with friends
Friend, no silence allowed
My freedom is the text, bless those who read and understand

I’m following a theme....they look great....the whole village has been out to see them