I couldn't but wonder when I saw this, what seems to be a genuine
replica of one of those figures that are very much beliked throughout
the world of catholizism. And it was not only one: may it be a cath-
olic hill? There is - before photographing - no human involved, so
I leave the conclusions to you. (Never will tell where I saw this,
I am sure the parking lots and the new pilgrims airport would spoil
the perspective.)
]]>
Once only once I want to see a poster screaming:
'ugly christmas trees' or 'not this fine x-mas trees
but you can burn them soon' or 'rubbish x-mas trees'
ONCE !!
... no words I got, I looked with my eye...
]]>
What a surprise...
wait for the day you'll see my severed sleigh across the sky...
(No photo montage, just the sky retouched a bit..)
]]>
I had to keep the colours, to show you that artificial
snow is used.
By the way: I am not into morals or sthg when doing
this I return visible results of a certain attitude
and add sometimes my opinion, especially in the head-
lines. It's up to you what you do with this. (Please,
do not ask for more exact shots in case you want to
rebuild any scenario you saw here - they are all walk-
by-shootings wearing a special mind-protection-hat.)
]]>
Good god! They need it, they need it bad, they need it badly.
By the way this could be as well a statement that church re-
cently acknowledged that 70ies-disco-type-lifestyle is not any-
more seen as a diabolic and through and through hongadunga thang
anymore. What a pity... ironiced my John T. dancing suit today.
Every year ...
]]>
Again the grass seems greener than when it allover (t)here is green,
when the ev'ry other whole day you can't but say: I've seen, oh seen.
What's the reason, what's the secret turning everydayish thang to gold?
Who can tell, if you have to ask, you never will be told, won't be taught.
Even faster as days grow even darker, this play is thrashing to it's halt.
Can't you hear the singing? What'd show more lights than a darkened world?
"And", adds a random speaker from above, out of the blue, above gray scales:
"you'll never see the light when every bulb is on, clearing even the shades."
And when now so it's light or shades as theme that fills these lines
kick out the needless scales, yes, make it massive, near static, shines
what you still guess: this is an image of the year's floating times.
--- The End ---
---------------------------------------------
What are they doing today:
The heroes that tried to make a stand in this opera but
couldn't last - a thing I proved - turned their focus over
to the art of duck photography.
The staff and hands of all kinds gave it all up, instead
their senseless struggle to provide a proper stage they
now believe in the art of duck photography.
The author finished this just in time to be ready to take part
in this year's season of the art of duck photography.
But then: the hero breaks the dull - rearranged in bloody reds,
in light and though tough is, he shows softer inner natureness.
He does not search, just on his way: a strong, a headed light
he makes his way, he cuts through the darker valleys of night.
Oh, do not forget this is a melodramatic image of what is life or can be.
No more, not less, so can't avoid this shot of too sweet heroic eye honey.
There here are better images, nailed to the wooden walls in our skulls:
but can't do November with all going back, need, maybe wet, but balls.
There here are newer images, you do hang to your fogged wall today,
their sweet romantic lession is: greased leathers, thicker socks, they say.
So say what are we doing or are we just the ones that done
are we what or not that? - Words fly, flow out, over and on,
the choir now strikes in: the blues, paints pictures of some
realistic abstract scenes that find in your mind a blue home.
Again the word: doubt, ugly, off-sense, but keeps you warm.
Yes, blues is a mass of shades of a colour not doing harm.
So hero and his co-heroes stomp cold grounds and yell:
Earnestine I' ll wait for you under the droning Spring bell.
(Until then - no doubts - fun suits my time better than just well.)
[narrator]
So turn and turn it again, if you watched until now,
there is no cure other as to keep on 'til the end. I
heard rumours the author of this thang learned
recently that even ambition needs time to act out.
So he could possibly set gray sails and thrifts or
thrusts this boat of word and pix'l in the serene
harbour of December...
[author]
Emmm... *yawn* yes, perhaps...
]]>
Hey no this is no monster show nor one musical featuring such.
This is high time for hero in disguise to make this way stop.
Easy job (for a hero) so after it he got time to spend again
hanging 'round near tracks and stations: waiting for a train.
(please, dear visitor and visitress:
these texts above are not to read,
I would be pleased if you sing them ... aloud..)
...... 
Strange and stranger, seems this act-ion to go forth,
the music goes real slow and low, look: is this a horse?
In this now dull, gloomy scenery a song like lark
breaks ringing through the density of novemdark.
When November rushes windy wet the sideshows will be done,
beats his big visual drum - the second act: it goes on and on.
This scene is not less and nothing more to offer deepest depth,
blending, harsh and deep contrasts that November's echoes hath.
Like rolling, wailing stones hero calls up and out his friends:
it's now, it seems the time is back to dance in camp and tents.
So sends some mails ringing with all burning violins, with facts:
meanwhile the audience takes breath, breaks are between two acts
Our hero meanwhile morphs, shifts gear and gets up and flies
and with these old songs nearby he lies across the skies.
He posts up signs that are and were to sing: 'Warning! Watch out!' -
Although: still fallen is the melo and dramatic mass and crowd.
The side shows provide us raging stunts
magic, punk 'n' pomp and circus dance.
As I kindly may remind: on the main stage goes the plot,
where fascist shadows fall on minds set for the polka dot.
So masks are worn behind the masks and same too in front
of audiences who came to get the actions, that they want.
And even the sky works out to darker masses soft enough
to permit some pounds of crashing light pass through.
So, then the main hero appears, walks in
so tall, strange moustache and kind of slim.
Every actor now and soon, hides behind natual mask,
pretends to be what going plot will show: he really was?
So they started to turn, turning gone on, it never halts:
swirly visions, this is shadow? this body? - all is waltz.
The audience's attraction is drawn and the stage is set,
through this small corridor to the light: danser menuette.
When plants show any structures similar
to frozen water, then they will get it
first.
And this is the end
of or to this series.
Time is now to
leaf and leave.
_______________
Next thang in November then.
The chance to see it big(ger)....
]]>
Last leaves leave last.
]]>
Down on the leaf bank of the river of time.
]]>
Once reached there, I was spoken
into the leafing room directly.
.. leap leaf.. leap leaf.. leap leaf.. (hypnotic..)
]]>
If leaving leaf's directions,
rounds up the falling action.
..leafing on a late sun-o-beam..
]]>