"IMAGINOR":Hour Of Magic....

Standing on the side of the road , today , everyday, was a one legged man. Others in haste receded the one legged man. Others still passing by , Sun went down , today , everyday; The one legged man disappeared. The one legged man ,wearing colorless loin cloths, was standing crooked. Pained? Cannot run and cannot hide against the dark dust storm coming to sweep everything away. Feared? Cannot sleep and cannot speak , his arm had no charity. Death? Perhaps he is living like all the others who crossed this road in the morning.

Rain soaked city streets, perfect day for friendly tweets , coffee and cigarettes all together. Not a day for military marches , uncanny noises of boots, sirens and alarms. A day that may never come , 'cause tomorrow , the drones will fly with superiority. Men , women and children, sleeping tonight , had their meals shared. Wake up, never, today is the perfect day. Tomorrow , maybe we'll see the same slick black cars rampaging the city streets again. No peace.No rest. Can all of us, be not live in hunger? And can all of us, be not proud of what we are together? Can a system be changed while living in it at the same time? We are parasites. We can only destroy and be less appreciative. We can let a farmer starved to death. We can murder an unborn girl child. Never, we'll walk the same road together. Never, we'll mix colors into one. Never, we'll exist for a world that a hungry kid imagines. Never, there can be a better world than this. Perhaps, g

Evening time, children were playing in the park some were dreaming their phantom dreams. Lovers were taking a walk , sharing their thoughts , planning a runaway. Vendors and shoppers were looking for a vantage point against each other. I could see the glittering jewelry shops,restaurants under the bright neon lights. The traffic was standing still for some reason, well the road was not broad enough. Nonetheless quite a remarkable city , as a matter of fact every city has its own charm, they all tell you something. And they are all running out of time, a whole lotta rush called life, always beating in a rhythm. The wealthy banker didn't exist in the invitee list anymore.He missed a moment of his life, I suppose.  The traffic didn't really move all the while. Lady inside the car was probably cursing or wishing if she had a great vision to fathom and see what's going on, probably getting late for her son's guitar class. The ants can carry objects hundred time

It is about the idea it is about the jelly fishes, spawns so beautifully but stings when close. Love is about the distance, get closer, diminishes. It is about the smile, cracked unseen. It is about souls never intersecting and swimming. Love is kind, surreal. And silent.

Brighter than the Sun. Above all the Gods. Significant like a ghost. Lemons,round,fresh and green, squeezed. Wisdom,virtuosity and love, like a ship swallowed in the turbulent sea. Fantasy,desire and a gunshot, seizing the day. Shackles broken but the sea is endless and mad yet. Glorified by its monstrosity. Proud. Vision's blurred in clear and bright. Craftsman,waiting eagerly in its craftily woven webs for prey.

The candle that just burnt out and left a smell Grasses, fresh but heavy with dew drops That bell, rings with some significance in a wintry night A heart in rhythm but confined A soul in search of its purpose,bleak. Streets of Vienna or the free birds. Dylan, for unsatisfied hunger. A puzzle, incomplete. A life, self destructive. A soul in search of its purpose,bleak. Finding a meaning,unveils the gray. Suppressed instincts die. The burdened grass leaves die.