Monday, January 31, 2011

A Twisted Face

A face lost on all its directions.
Torn in half by peering into it's center,
a new creature emerges,
adorned with a culture of mixed histories,
a spectrum of intentions,
to the left it sees a past,
to the right it sees its inventions.

                     A monster.                     .....                     A cut-off future.             

Saturday, January 29, 2011

The Beautification of Ugly pt. 3

From a young age, Zachreef Puntel had always been fond of teeth. His first entrepenurial venture involved stealing x ray photographs of teeth and arranging the small pictures into massive collages made to look like larger teeth. The museum holding his work, however, was ransacked after a vicious group of protesters protesting protesting protested an exhibit protesting the pasts of protested protesters. All of the remaining records containg the life and work of Zachreef perished in a fire set by protesting arsonists who followed the intitial wave of protesters. Only this picture remains. 

Halga Oorft was voted most beautiful by one voter during the Abkhazia Not For Ugly voting parade that took place just ten minutes ago down Abkhazia's most prominent street, the Huft Unt Paved Way. The suspect who voted for Halga eluded pursuing journalists, but left behind a handkerchief with an emblem containing the letters Sm. Mr.

This young brother and sister pair come from the most obscure outskirts of Manhattan Isla. On certain days, they spend up to 12 hours working different hair products into their scalps in order to impress two employees working at the nearby Turnip's Shopping Complex. What they realized was it was really just one employee posing as two different people. After this trauma inducing experience, the siblings have gone recluse in a tower located in the heart of the woods.

Wednesday, January 26, 2011


Is it worth going forward
without some sort of guide?

Can education be glued
to the skin of the mind?

The main vein is clotted, blocks
knotted in tradition,
founded by capital,
and lost in dispassion.

Seek the knowledge before it's handed down
and cross the river before hearing the sound
of their voices from the other side.
Surrounded by the Archipelago of experience, tied
by swimming and singing, day after night.

Layers of subjects,
papers under papers
barely hanging by the
thread of a class schedule,
but easily containable
in a silicon wafer.

Not so easy
for the matter of the mind,
for while the past is important
to the prologue of the present,
what we need to find
are the skills for the future
to take us out of these depressing times.

Professors guide like needles
weaving the class through
the patchwork of our ancestors,
who's lives cannot undo
the actions we commit today,
which they'd abhor, if they saw
the strange curiosity
of our current ways.

If held by one hand while being brought up,
then suddenly let go as a full grown up,
rather we hold many hands and let some go
to hold other hands as we learn and grow.

Held behind by ignorance
is not an option for those
who are inquisitive.
With or without degrees
of learned burn-ins,
the world is even more open and free
for you to expose your fresh skin.

There are yet many great tattoos to be had
and many books to be read
in communication with the flurry
of our acceleration into
pressurized depths.

The discovery of knowledge
takes place outside of the classroom
and can within, too
if only the boundaries of in-doors were realized,
a smashing of the walls would do,

and so would the smashing of atoms,

for those graduates of science have still more to smash,
seems we have a lot of smashing to do.

Oh Counselor
Will you help pick up the pieces
That have been smashed