Rain from the sky.
Thin skin over changing insides.
Covering banal objects ,
With all their grotesque contradictions.
Holds up a mirror to society,
The man who thought
He was was smart:
Fascination with these subjects,
Reflected in the material.
Today, If you have time for me,
Then I will sing their praises,
Or sound the alarm.

I can be like Nabokov,
Without being like Humbert.
Explore the human condition ,
Without giving into my condition.
I can offer a critical perspective,
Will it be criticized?
Challenge myself & others,
Will I be challenging?
Expose my private spaces,
Not concerning myself with others' privates.
Establish myself.
Be dedicated to my unique style.
Through my art or through my act?
Which will be remembered?

Though he initiated these affairs
It continued until his death, or theirs
The goal: eliminating tradition.
Although it failed this mission
It marked a return to the center
And the end to many a dissenter
Students responded to this call
His doctrine many did enthrall
Declaring the rebellion justified.
Chaos came like a landslide.
Cadres formed throughout the land.
Old governments to disband
Replaced by new revolutionary committees
In all the towns and cities
These split into hostile corps,
Leading many to all out war
This effect intensified after the fall
The fallout touching on all
Until his arrest and execution.
For many this was the last revolution

There is luck to success at first.
In a specific relative order
But what if you are of a different kind?
Can we make the impossible possible?
We have to change something
Do you have to earn your share?
Dragged along with the flow of
Great discoveries and achievements.
Few of us will bet on that new horse.
N​​ot a new age for pioneers.
Information on the face
Is a conman’s pitch on the back end
How can anyone ignore this fact?
No man shows his character so carefully,
As when he devotes himself
to portraying someone else

Abstract pain in my head,
Feels like darkness
Clawing its way out
Wish I didn’t have this human form.
Cursed with absurd anatomy
Aforementioned abstract become acute
Developed a significant suffering
I wish to endure it in private
Unsee this aspect of humanity.
Regain my normal again

What do you think of,
when you see Green?
Does it mean the same in the West?
In China? In Russia?
Which colo(u)r is truest everywhere?

Be a colo(u)rist
Fascinated with the meanings of colo(u)rs
When people think of them.
Experience them.
Not when they are assigned them

Borders create abstract works.
Dialogue between geometry and softness
Battle between system and feeling
These lines carry an impressive collection
Of cultural influences & cultural calmaties
These lines are global, not local
Unless the softness is made hard
By metal and concrete structures
And bullets and blood in the air
This human imagined line
Cutting through bone and sinew