th_Eroses is a contemporary art website dedicated to film photography, cinema, poetry, internet performance, behavioral choreography, and art critical theory.

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 halcyon days

i :: through to the other side

 

I’m loose & washy,

a watercolor of pink arcs.

I dreamed we were tiny like 

One 

micron of jazz floating 

 

through the bell of a sax,

steep crags of Sleep.

a black canyon I longed for

but I'm always burning

 

blazing through Sleep-Time 

like some prickly electric Nova,

too hot to be engulfed in 

a vacuum of Blissful Ultramarine 

sublime::

two golden garments shimmered in the hall

and in the gleam of hanging lamps grew bright

music in blue glass

jazz in glass walking 

in a halcyon tunnel you’re 1 piece of smoke.

dream about an Egg. Do it now. 

ii:: dream places highway 1

 

Omnicloud 

soft edge of everything.

i am open

your thoughts are pleasant-shaped & drifting

through me like confetti

such a moveable party we are.

party of 2

Rococo Fantasy

the duration of Holst’s Venus.

a great artist creates a more truthful form of beauty

a great artist finds no substantive pleasure in the baroque.

Mellow Zephyr

clarity of you clears

the air :: prismlike

lets your colors kiss

my mind slow & wet

Stoned Carousel 

i am a slow pony

the children love me

Delta Seven

space of Blissful Mystery.

here our bodies cut fog.

our bodies make light from blackness.

breathe, together.

feel it (transparent hours)

clara cradles her dreams

like a blacksmith cradles his fire

holds out her milky hand, 

spidery fingers branching 

wanly toward the orbs that surround her.

they bathe in a deep amber light.

she is particular about the quality of her light.

she and her particular light are the only constant. 

wordlessly she defines

electronic energy bands;

choosing photons to propagate 

through the structure of her mind, 

or to pass by untouched.

high and low tones separate 

s       l  o     w   l           y 

so slowly bursting 

into small rainbows 

& distinct phenomena.

 

you.

you were always beautiful. you were never not 

beautiful. radiant with a pure clarity

of intention, the knowledge 

of how to love

with a touch that loved love

the way love loved

to be loved.

 

love is too often a Brancusi, used 

but in your hands.

with you.

love chilled out and glittered.

the mythical kingfisher,

immaculate. 

we walk through the door 

and the atmosphere of Mel’s rearranges itself, 

a shrine to your aura.

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