Warren Shaw    |    Interdisciplinary artist

1.71 : 26.04.10

 

We are the remnants of the seminal prototype. The eulogy of the ancient ones. There is nothing here but the dreams of others. A doorway revealed, which leads to no-where but itself. There was a time. But I am not it. Never to be. Never for me. Walk through the field and under the tree. I am in-human, powerful and free. Free from humanity but bound by the odds of endless creativity. My thoughts were true. It really does just mean. Me and You. Secondary to none. A similar Turn. Expelled through time, no one yet, has mine. The beautiful south and the ugly north. Polar equivalents of my extensive retort. Wait. I said it’s me not you. But with out who is me? Where do I end? Where do I land? What do I see? Travel to your merchant, extend your life. This lane is over riddled with strife. A dark relax. A grey refrain. Don’t turn me that way. It will just happen again. Punch me, I’m here. I’ll scream cause it really isn’t clear. When my head jumps out and fears the queen. Rocked together luminous and green. External fear and a useless grin. The deer is back. Smiling thinly and black. It responds to light and sits by itself. Reveals nothing but its eyes, golden and deaf. My journey waits here. The deer catches its breath, passes it on to me, then licks its breast. A strange set of tears are waiting in line. All nice and dry. Just waiting for time.

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