Wednesday, 26 October 2011

In The Flesh

                                              In The Flesh
by Stormm

The drunken man on the apartment balcony sits in a medium piss puddle,

barely conscious. His unpresent condition will be a great aid, so much

easier to enter and gain control of a body. The jolt then crush of

confinement, a sudden blast as I bathe in the strangest feelings. Back in

the flesh again, gasping, breathing in life once more. Experiencing actual

concrete physical reality sensations...

Slumped back head against wall, marveling at the splendor of glittering city

skyline night through blurry eyes, bathe in the roaring vibrations of wind,

traffic and rain. Tides of whizzing vehicles float by overhead, shuttle the

gracious and spiteful, both equally unaware of beings like me. Exhilarated,

tingling with unknown new awareness stimuli. I touch the floor in awe

slowly, palm sweeps along surface textures rough and smooth. Splash

rank yellow warm liquid acidic dripping down fingers smeared, stare on,

at, lick, smile, blissfully grinning...

Were am I? in whose body? for how long be able to keep will it? Should

hurry now find a better shell, a safe house, some bored emo soul wanting

out of an otherwise healthy construct. Something uncomfortable, feeling at

odds in this realm, beings estranged from adoptive skin...


<a href="" style="font: 10pt arial; text-decoration: underline;">surreal art for sale</a>

Monday, 10 October 2011

Karma Chameleon

                                                 Karma Chameleon
by Stormm

The shape-shifter casually adjusts her body in fluid transition, molding into

the recent encounter with absolute graceful ease. Unmatched adaptive skills

beyond comparison, absorbing even character flaws and personality traits.

Sheltered in a fog of amnesia, Karma fluidly discards motive, accents,

mannerism, quirks...

How long hath she been collecting forms, assuming new and unusual

physical positions? How many multitudes held in Limbo, captivated on

Astral Planes, unaware their dead? Caught up in a raging battle

between mobs of morphing psyches, individuality lost Karma blends in

out way beyond mimicry...

"No one knows which me is me, somewhere someone long ago. Nobody

knows my name, someone somewhere far away." Strange faces unknown

places populate, missing events flicker, vague images pop up more suddenly.

Flashes increase as friends, lovers, enemies, blur, into foreign objects...

<a href="" style="font: 10pt arial; text-decoration: underline;">pop culture art for sale</a>

Sunday, 9 October 2011


by Stormm

No-where here, all self now is, clear. Pure consciousness without a shell,

a powerful intangible spirit of total extra-sensory perception.

Roaming the realms like an invisible shadow, a phantom suspect very

rarely intuited by only the most ultra-sensitive psychics.

Throughout wonders adrift as if...

Wanderlust, swimming vast creative oceans as nothingness sails the

eternal seas of space.

Having escaped Astral planes by shifting dimensions, via at first very

confusing states then gradual awareness of possibilities, the many

advantages of being incorporeal on so called physical material planes...

Reality immaterially disappearing No Where resurfaces, encounters and

interacts with Now Here, an endless array of unique entities.

Here no!

Sad collectives still dream of only experiencing single fragile temporary bodies,

role-play sleeping souls living out their own self-imposed, limited, social lives...

<a href="" style="font: 10pt arial; text-decoration: underline;">cannabis art for sale</a>

Saturday, 8 October 2011

Mr Leisure

                                      Mr Leisure
by Stormm

When Mr Leisure wakes up he's smiling, recharged and energetic.

Always fresh, in a new adventurous mood. An excited Leisure

rises stretching and yawning. Mr "oh the pleasure is all mine" sings

"where will I visit 2? somewhere next I've never been 2."

"AUM" he hums activating a violet oval portal with golden, jade,

scarlet halo. The portal shimmers while exteriors fluctuate, brief

moments later a different environment stabilizes.

Hathor flows over to greet me, her blurry rainbow body shimmering.

Every movement a sparkling color collage of poetry, seemingly she

maintains a distinctive form only completely recognisable when still.

Scented fireworks explode overhead, drizzle peppermint pineapple

for today only, rose champagne mists sprinkle vanilla almonds.

In paradise there are rainforests with diverse trees bearing many

unique fruits, some even taste bread like, once plucked they

instantly regrow.

Sky multitudes of liquid sea types abound, ever fresh rivers of the

choicest dry or sweet wines, raw milks, sticky honey overflowing.

Undines wade in tropical oceans and lakes, bathe on the rocks,

frolic by the beach. Some comb hair seductively, they sing and

proclaim, "it's love of love." Overwhelmed by such beauty and

unbearable pleasure, we weep periodically.

Just so, for fun Leisurely wonders how angels make love?

In a dimension where thoughts instantly manifest, just so...

<a href="" style="font: 10pt arial; text-decoration: underline;">hindu art for sale</a>

Sunday, 2 October 2011

Forbidden Machines

                                          Forbidden Machines
by Stormm

Sneaking past hive creatures entwined in mutual absorption, I maneuver

cautiously through the vast maze of the Clinging Caverns. Occasionally

halting to avoid a lethal discharge of electric yellow and silver sparks.

By sudden random snap-crackles and violent pops at successive points,

along cold dull grey walls. Immense units of multi-limbed cyborgs

exchange passionation, these writhing live wire half-lings utter sharp

distorted metallic screams, sputter and squirt copious slick jet black fluids.

The brutal clang clang of banned experimental metals are clashing.

Revved up motors grinding merciless gears, this a continuous harsh

drip drip scrapey sound.

Somehow I must surely carry on, adroitly manage to survive yet another

hall of bored kamikaze moth divers, desperately bent on consummating

their fatal ignitions...

Submerged beneath overwhelmingly dense layers of accumulated

descending despair, ragged condemned ghouls gasp, fight back bitter

pepper tears. Their boiling volcanic rage escalating even more cruel


I'm full out sprinting now, over rough afflicted jagged terrain, skirt

weeping puddles of toxic heavy water and corrosive slimy green filth.

Hazardous rust dust stir bleak dune surfaces. Here rabid sulphur

clouds clog the stale poisonous atmosphere, spit bones, shred schemes,

reek futility.

A dauntingly eerie spine-tingling nervous tension exhales it's

smothering death stench. As lost cause moans throughout reverberate,

ravage this land of forbidden machines...

<a href="" style="font: 10pt arial; text-decoration: underline;">nude angel art for sale</a>

The Tracker

                                           The Tracker
by Stormm

High astride orange kaleidoscope world globes, peering through rapidly

bubbling green and pink clouds. I fan some aside with a left hand, while

my right sends energy pulses down to successive planetary surfaces.

Golden elevator cubes beam below, transport dissolving Scout-Rays of

light filament webs. Root under cities and countries, listening for that oh

something special. Sniffing out and tasting regional flavors, stirring up

the firm nests of vast rich continentals.

Sample tastes innumerable sensory pleasure-pain inputs. Stroking the

planet like cool breezes caressing trees, tunes in hooked up sense


A glowing rainbow being with lightning locks, the dreaded psychic


Hangs suspended upside down, scanning throughout the worlds below...

<a href="" style="font: 10pt arial; text-decoration: underline;">angels art for sale</a>