... the joker or the thief

Lives take form,
either of two
u may get to choose or not
which of it is you

Dedicated to Bob Dylan

clouded thought...

...Shadows they are, and shadows they were,
Shadows they would stay, whatever light they share
And, Though the light doesn't show much of space anywhere,
But for myriad little shadows, all the ground is for spare.

- words and pic by him...
(extract from 2004 canon)

I, Us, We ...

Amidst the world of vacuous concrete and wispy sounds,
No more than the shadow we cast onto the ground

(words and pic by him...)

when u r lost ...

Look around in the void of the night

And let the road tell you which way is right.
(pic and captions by him...)

spray paint ...

spray paint upon the wall
till light steals away it all
cry laughs of a time bygone
till the air can't carry it on.

Ride through the wild forest shires
through dead leaves and naked fires
Till the day asks for a break
sips a drink up, down the lake

Torch of stone in hands ablaze
The right of wrong in hands betrayed
I have seen it in those eyes
Colored truth over white lies

You murmur your excuse
As i bleed into disuse
Cant even let out an angry shout
the words crumble within my mouth

Leaving out through the door
Walking into my indoor
Looking up with a weary eye
at darkness hitching through the sky

lets out a painful empty roar
the cat caught inbetween my writhen door
With the silver lining on its feet
Fading away with the reigning sleet

Lives like these alike and known
laying in our cozy home
And as the light bleed out of the den
The spray is speaking my words again.

-him.

about him...

Who/What is him... ,

him... is a name stopped short of complete expression..... an existence stopped short of complete manifestation... an entity stopped short of its complete individualization. him... is an attempt to capture the glimpse of that which just stopped short of an occurence, the glimpse that was just caught for a moment by the corner of the eye and the likes of which can only be pondered upon by the presence of imagination or the mere lack of it.
In this light Shakespeare's "What's in a name?", can be extended to "What's in a name, or the rather lack of it".

If the imagination is in the eye, then the eye is what is I (and him....) Imagination stopped short of expression, of manifest expression, of formation for I am but my imagination, and the very lack of it... Wht I see is all I am and wht I am is wht i fail to see.

Leonardo da Vinci once said "Art is never finished; only abandoned.". Art is an expression for imagination and its abandonment thereafter, or in other words the lack of it thereafter....

him..... art.... expression..... imagination.... all references to one and the lack of one....

dancing in the moonlight ...

At times I wonder, what is it that a man lurks around for in the silent corner of the enchanted night while the crowd gathers around the burning logs in the revelry of the millenia. What is it that his mute mind whispers to the wind behind his ears as the silhouettes of the forms swinging by the firelight gently morph into shadows of wolves, dancing in harmony to the decadence of the un-dying night.
And why is it that he feels a smile stretch across his cheek while drops of tears stagger down his moist skin like a river cascading down the scars of an abandoned past.
Perhaps, that is why no matter how much we enlighten ourselves we shall be no more wiser than this fool in the corner that is throwing his tear-laden smile at us.

-him...
(Photo:courtesy the internet)