_untitled (abondend)_ by Lars Ro

watching the lights
glide down a distant Indian highway
the eternal firefight
abondend

breeze through the trees
life's heart beats for you too,
stranger

(India, 2010/2011)

_untitled (lick yr lips)_ by Lars Ro

entranced by a butterfly
the swoop of a hawk
bristling eyelashes
razzled,
dazzled
run as fast
as yr little legs
will take you
strum that melody
like no one
has ever strummed it before
lick yr lips,
my love

(Pokhara, 5 January 2011)

_untitled (yr not yr brother's keeper)_ by Lars Ro

stencilled impresarios
yr not yr brother's keeper
chirp away,
my friend,
chirp away

there's a rumble
underfoot
and the breeze

we have no reason
to accost you
at ease,
at ease

(Kheerganga, 4 May 2011)

Lost in Thoughts: An Acid Afternoon Trip to the Wild - Kendra Ahimsa

Midsummer afternoon, 1969.

I hadn't been born then.

Nor was this baffling standpoint I have now towards life.

Flooded with beercans like an endless river,

Chuckling in air, like sniffing a fucking reefer.

To see things as though they were really what we saw at that time.

Oh, what a mint view.

This feeling of cherry blossoming daisies and evergreen meadows outside my window.

I wish it hadn't been so fast, made it seem like I've just missed the train knowing I am 40 years too late.

I guess we just have to revel those moments forever in our senses.

At least until the fat lady stops singing and starts to get high and wasted.

Ah.. If I could just get out and go make love to the gazing sky,

And tell her not to cry, for she has to witness all.

This surreal nonsense that is happening beneath her beauty.

Ah.. If only tonight I could gently rape the worried moon and make her moan.

Blow the tits off her sanity, only just so I can whisper her lovewords to make her calm.

So she would still talk to me at night, as she begins to turn her shine around against me,

Against the ground I'm living on.

Oh dear Mother of all the land,

Let me hold your hand and raise your head up slow since now is the time.

Now is when children create memories of their first sunrise,

Now is when Mother first sees her child's eyes.

Now is when the old are young while the young are still dumb as we are closer to lose our opposable thumbs.

Now is when I wake up to the fresh smell of brewed coffee in blonde rays of beautiful lights that burst through the haze where they land upon my face like a kiss.

So I say here and now, a solemn vow.

The land's gone cold, down gone by the down down shops in and out of a bound.

Half-truth lies I have told, an honest sound, tiny clusters of little babies on a playground.

I suppose my mind's just riddling with chaos of whys and hows,

But I like it.

Nabi untuk pemotong arteri kiri - Max Geraldi

Nadi terburat pecah seperti selang yang penuh tekanan.  Sari sari mimpi muncrat tinggi

menghiasi langit langit dengan kemilau membutakan mata.

Kepala berputar, teratur. Bibir terkatup  bergetar ikuti vibrasi nadi .

Mati?                                    //                                            Hidup?

Realita direkonstruksi oleh Morpheus

dengan perisai bajanya.

Genderang bertaut

bak gajah Persia yang siap perang.

Bumi berderak keras!

Laut berbuih jingga!

Angkasa terbelah layaknya durian yang baru jatuh.

Gong emas di ufuk jauh pudar dan makin kabur dari visi mata kiri. Satu sosok mendekat,

langkahnya penuh pendaran debu.

Kain satin sobek melingkari bahunya, rambut gimbal sepanjang pinggang.

Mari dansa kembali..       

                                   Hari berakhir disini..

                                                   Logika hanya piring plastik untuk tatakan opinimu..

                                  Jangan berlari lagi..

Kamu sudah disini.

On noticing Trees - Tess Joyce

Arriving at dusk, I joined a circle of brothers and sisters I did not know

sharing thoughts as fresh as thawing ice.

Reclining against the flaccid drum of the world, I smelt their flower-scent clothes, 
heard and learnt to melt with words, 
 
saw a spectrum of grey, beyond grey rainbows, full with ash

as the campfire, free from madness, bore babies of truth.

Saw my love, for the first time look fragile as the ceremony closed

and we sang songs like a hunted bird, for the last time -

now, hear our echoes near pine-shaped landscapers

/ see glass buildings, shine like lakes.\

It's not easy to forget, the walls of the forest, rising to the sky like domes -

                                                                                                                such brilliant air and light.

We could design every house, using the trees as our guide.



Indonesia Rainbow Gathering - Bandung, 2011

my art project

Hi brothers and sisters,

These are some of my projects, ill post others soon. Cheers!

Love,

Karel