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I hope to make this page a place where my friends and fellow artists can submit post, and view each others art. Referring back to the ring of people I desire to build, and is mentioned in the main page. I believe this would be a wonderful palette to do so. Human relation through creativity and artistic measures. I think this would be beautiful. Your work doesn't have to be particularly "good" or "artistic" to go here. I just ask that it mean something to you. Not only will art be showcased here, but hopefully people can get more in touch with people and their most inner concentrated secrets and trusting thereof here. Having this come to fruition would be more than a dream to me, and I ask everyone to post. If you have anything to put here, post something on the message board and we can get in touch, or send it to Gooberdork@yahoo.com |
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There's a time for lies, in candyland, trying to break your hand, and wake up across the river. There's a summer day, for inventing a way, to cover your steps before you drown in the bay. While WW2 vets make up for the steps, you simply stepped down, and abolished the threat. Now it's all coming back to me, I better clog up, and find out what I see. - Matthew Harvey - 8 - 25 - 2000 |
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A day, with hair. For the dogs to beware of. Violence never conquered love. What of the warriors, when they can't push and shove? What of the times in trampled summer grass? Are they drowning in wine? Are they moving too fast? Almost caught the elephant, before you kicked yourself in the ass. A silence takes over, and answers all the questions. Not filling the blanks, but rationalizing. Making you feel the silky textured silver body next to mine. Spacing, heart racing, voyeurism only fuels loneliness. The two places I'm standing, are becoming one. Not beating but meeting the summer sun. The greatist is when you're sucked in, you feel warm and bathe in saliva. You're poked in all the wrong places until you scream. And then a part of you is rejected, and given an early, shallow grave. In a dark acidic abyss. Rejected again, to be turned to piss. My mind wonders how my mind wanders, then returns here again without feeling the downfalls and turning a chin. Inside a sluthouse, can't walk in, it's your design, you've been accused of sin. But the innocent are proved guilty, the crime is to say. I think I know the way you know, we both will get away, to jail. Till tomorrow and then we can play with our lives + our hopes, just maybe they'll blow us away. We'll run out of our skulls running from bullets, following blood, then for millions of years disguise ourselves as mud. Watching servants watch drunkards who know that it's "right." But convinced to insanity because of their might. Not unlike me, but following the salsa line, to time, rolling to strangle the night. Then fade away, to the mud.- Matthew Harvey - 9 20 2000 |
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So insane - So insane, you spend all of your time dying so slowly because, you know, you understand what most people can't catch a glimpse of craving the new and different no one else sees this insane attempt to be happy to be free from everything that holds you down from everyone that makes you cry and endless effort you can never succeed, don't you see you can't change them they're all following their leader into a pact they'll use to comfort their consciences and remind them of where they're going just before they die and they'll be competitive about who they are and they'll make up their minds, who's the best and it will be so sad to see the end and know that they could have known...they could have listened and maybe understood they'll temporarily satisfy themselves long enough to realize that somewhere they've lost themselves they'll look and try to find a definite ground to stand on and make something stable then they'll grasp that they've lost find that it's gone and they can't change it, it will drive them to their deaths and leave them insane and you'll feel guilty because, you thought, you knew you could have saved them you could have let them, understand and see, and now it's too late, and you won't try to help yourself, before you slip it's so insane, don't you think - Tony Cantrell - Placed on this site 9 20 2000 |
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You say they knew nothing, I say they never even tried, which demonstrates a certain genius, not to get caught up in the game. "Is this what you want?" "What I don't want?" "Well that's what you're saying." "Living without looking back." A rolling wonder stealing sidewalk, sighing, crying, trying to feel, but in an empty field, your lucky to make friends with the scarecrow. A bouncing ferris wheel, smiling and giving, stretching out snakehols, blowing earth away. Filtered perception, a dilluted crime, in your mind, sinking with only 2 toes, makes you no harder to find, in their eyes. - Matthew Harvey - Placed on this site 9 20 2000 |