A few years back me and my girlfriend spent a romantic weekend in Edinburgh. We saw these in a shop, on sale, and I insisted that I buy them for her.
Archive for February, 2013
True love blinds
like tear gas.
Crying incidental,
evidence of ache and joy.
sticky like pollen
the ineffable skin traps
the dust
of our passing
beneath its surface.
Recorded by a dear friend of mine. Listen to what he has to say and if you wanna get involved search ‘fledgling arts’ on facebook.
Is these circles a roundabout way of enforcing an intractable perspective on a population too distracted to notice that the total surface area for occupation and proliferation is being ever reduced in a bid to limit both possibility and opportunity for what once would of been referred to as the proletariat but has now been divided, in a diametrical fashion, into grotesque reimaginings of the have and have nots. In these times of scarcity such things ar expressed using a kind of negative space where time is money becomes deconstructed in honour of a new dichotomy – the Do and Do Nots.
After a forced memory retrieval in the comments on this poem by Pete Armetta I ended up on my old myspace page where I found a few photographs I have decided to rescue for prosperity.
A delightfully noisy acoustic jam from those rapscallions Salford Media City.
the seed of resultant malignant growth can be as small as a grain of sand
blown up to the s ize of a par agra ph.
With each reproduction, a process needed so that the kernal can better be appreciated, new meanings are surgically
grafted
onto the ever expanding growth, correcting any newly discovered mistakes of thought with each iteration.
The gravity of the object, though we use this term loosely
as the purpose of the neoplasm is to negate the object as a distinct entity,
increases two-fold.
Once sufficent mass has been achieved, a singularity of undifferentiated similarity,
it becomes impossible for any idea to escape its
event
horizon.
EITHER/OR/BORED 
