IRC-Galleria

Highway Skyline

~


Of the grass, that choked
Of the roots, that were were uncovered

Of the steel, that impaled the soil
Of the concrete, that became the new skin of the land

Of the people, lost for lust, flame burnt
Of the will - that of steel - to have swung the first shovel

No more.

Of that what died, of that what was to live on
Of the desperation that engulfed us
Of the craze that drove us
Of them

Of us.

Ultimately alone.

~

Tower

Rise against the dead purple sky.
Entrapped.

There's no snow on your roofs,
no gravel on your roots.

Pylon above the rest,
the simple supremacy of height.

~

Each alone, look rigid!

~

Survive the suspensions of weathering,
ye old Polish beast!

There's a centre to it all,
and that's you.

Raised out of despair,
the middle of nowhere
pinpoint yourself
oversee
withhold
control.

Your minors will meet their maker.
Strange times, here they come.

~

__The peek out of the fifty-ninth floor window reveals nothing more than any other sheet of glass opening into this world.
find the window that actually looks out.

__The cubicle on a roof is no more than a basement
to tangle yourself in your self-sufficient needs.




~

Lies, lies! The humanity, lies!

~

First they make you look good to yourself,
__then they prep you up
__then they crop you up
__then they pile you up
__then they hang you
onto the hooks of the needy.

Sheep to the slaughter.

The craze is over when you no longer match the game. Lame duck, you.

__Employ the system and rip off those willing to be ripped by the system
seeking justice in this world!
seeking shelter in the spotlights!


or perish.


~



The colour's bleak, the corona's dead.

The last breath, the lucid walls, the luminescence of the lamps. The spin.

__I don't need anything, as the world would hold it in store for anyone else.
As bare as a new-born tramp.
As wise as the last downed bottle.



~

Unique.
Ubique.

Perfect, beautiful.


~


Pic or it didn't happen.

~
The 51st Hole
~



There's a hole where the highway used to end.

And we're all used to ends, []




These city lights sweep the panes,
escape, die into the haze.

Run while you can, skip the road and wonder the woods;
it's the only way to beat the game!


One day, we'll be on the same line, and most trails will have led full circle.



Go on, lead on!
Hell, you're dead wrong!
Every time.



In or out, it's here. We've returned to redeem ourselves.
One day.




One day it'll be light out.
One day.



~

~

I was reading a parody
about a blind man blabbing about

I laughed

until I realised


The man was I

and the joke was on me.

~

Kun kuva kertoo enemmän kuin ne kuuluisat tuhat sanaa... ole sanomatta mitään!

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Photographs and falling leaves
Scattered dust of memories
Echoes of a better time
Where I'm going and where I've been

GIMP & Wacom Bamboo One