We are shadows that howl and wail scorched by the light that condemns us to night. We hunger and cry and run from our plight. We are shadows burnt by the light. Ogres the sun blinds our sight. We are shadows that dance in the night; shadows cast by the light. lost in mirrored reflections we long to take flight. shadows
The world is a shadow play, full of the silence that haunts the heart. shadows cast by the light, we hang between light and night. The crucified ones, we hang between what is higher and what is lower, love, that scorching flame, transforms us. This bone bag made from star dust, we come from the stars in this journey that will take us home again, back to the stars, our lost home.
Great stuff, Cathy; I will guess and say you love Artaud 's work . Reminds me of both Beckett and Artaud. Well done. I take my cap off, and bow low, john
Oh you're so nice Mister SuperBluePoet. I do appreciate Artaud, and am pleased to say that my Kristeva film will be the "bonus item" on an upcoming Artaud DVD release.
It's also not the first time the Becket comparison has been made, but then we were both "des irlandais"...
Last time the press described a certain "Beckett-like intensity" - sounded good to me - in May 93 for the installation "Anger & Grace" at the Bluecoat Chambers, Liverpool, England.
There you go, I am not the only one to notice; a great compliment; both Becket and Artaud were great artists. a compliment your work deserves. Watch out world, the Aussie's are taking over. john
Love your big red tongue Viper Void, and your introduction of that mangey mutt at the end. I assure the viewer that it is NOT the bum of my darling Rapunzel du Domaine des Genots, so no animals (besides Mr Riot) were harmed in the making of these ogres.
that hunger for the light.
SuperBluehaze 2 years ago
SuperBluehaze 2 years ago
SuperBluehaze 2 years ago
We are shadows that fade and flicker
scorched by the light
that throws us into darkness.
We walk a thin white line,
figments of the imagination,
shadows scorched by the light,
cast by the fire,
we tip toe over midnight,
shadows that hunger for the light
SuperBluehaze 2 years ago
Midnight that haunts the heart
time so fleeting cries
we are shadows that run from the sun
its scorching light burns us so.
We are shadows that linger in night,
shadows cast by the light.
SuperBluehaze 2 years ago
shadows cast by the light.
Reflections of reflections
we stumble in our reach for the beyond,
we desire to take flight,
To touch the midnight star.
SuperBluehaze 2 years ago
We are shadows that flicker and flash,
hunger and cry,
stars that sometimes shine brightly,
between eons of darkness;
this bag of dust, dead stardust,
hangs between nothingness and darkness,
SuperBluehaze 2 years ago
Great stuff, Cathy; I will guess and say you love Artaud 's work . Reminds me of both Beckett and Artaud. Well done. I take my cap off, and bow low, john
SuperBluehaze 2 years ago
Oh you're so nice Mister SuperBluePoet. I do appreciate Artaud, and am pleased to say that my Kristeva film will be the "bonus item" on an upcoming Artaud DVD release.
It's also not the first time the Becket comparison has been made, but then we were both "des irlandais"...
Last time the press described a certain "Beckett-like intensity" - sounded good to me - in May 93 for the installation "Anger & Grace" at the Bluecoat Chambers, Liverpool, England.
NOTAMARKinc 2 years ago
There you go, I am not the only one to notice; a great compliment; both Becket and Artaud were great artists. a compliment your work deserves. Watch out world, the Aussie's are taking over. john
SuperBluehaze 2 years ago
Agents Void of the wasteland Perperformance green and top hat ....reminded me of the Joy first I first felt of being refused entry into the USA.
DeeDeesquat
Voidriot 2 years ago
Love your big red tongue Viper Void, and your introduction of that mangey mutt at the end. I assure the viewer that it is NOT the bum of my darling Rapunzel du Domaine des Genots, so no animals (besides Mr Riot) were harmed in the making of these ogres.
NOTAMARKinc 2 years ago