To the often slained lancer
the brave and better prisoner,
of the wild cackling arena
friends of the night
who are fatally strangers to one another
I begin with my own limits
and spear everyone
Betrayal.
Be a wonderful trail.
Voice automatically recites at the loading of this page.
Voice automatically recites at the loading of this page.
Emerge from the stone bed of prehistoric confusion,
you are not flesh,
you are not just a facial expression
incised by television,
nor you are the indignity of a jet of words
inherently missing the target
Begin in bytes
The message is clear
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Voice automatically recites at the loading of this page.
Places to go.
Reluctant with a pretty face
daily amorphous delicacy
in a grasshopper’s leap from my skin
I am roaming
beating the books
as the rare searches its muse.
Eum.
The best unfound way out
is the pact of life with scissors,
the union of my both sides:
amphibian and nocturnal.
It’s about death in two ways. Firstly, it refers to the state of fascistic, ignorant, parasitical, idiotic world of entertainment that turns people into deaf, dumb and blind; effectively killing their critical awareness by blighting the potential of the mediums of expression and information such as cinema, music and literature. Secondly, Dancing with a Rocket makes a reference to the phenomenon of death literally. Death as a beginning rather than the end, which stops all worldly indulgence, the temporal and the insignificant. Rocket symbolises the heart of the one who is aware, rising forth to eternity.