Hell, it’s the internet, you’re never going to know, really, are you?
I’m a dirty dancer with hairy legs, a student of experience and the establishment. I have two beautiful dogs, a rusted out Triumph t2500 that only sort-of goes and all manner of compliance issues. I like nice clothes, high heels, black sand, engine noises, the South Island, the smell of petrol, giving injections to cows, the history of religion and the Middle East, spending afternoons mindlessly grinding rust, swimming in the sea, short shorts, native bush, reggae, art nouveau, gumboots, changing into second gear, natural textiles, psychadelic drugs, old-world glamour, op shops, recycling, West Coast beaches, strong black coffee, Cuba st, stockings with seams up the back, Outrageous Fortune, The White Lady, men with muscular forearms, trumpet solos, cactus juice, long skirts that get tangled in my jandals, late nights, cheap nasty wine, tall trees, trademe, getting letters from overseas and breathing fresh air in general.
I don’t like evangelism. I don’t like mastitis. I don’t like the Kings Of Leon, shrimp, sunburn, razor blades, infill housing, not being able to take my puppy on the bus, TV, fly spray, tomatoes, corporate identity, Hondas (or Nissans, for that matter), trackpants with elasticated ankles, lager, fleas, cheap chocolate, child labour, trim milk, sans serif fonts, depleted uranium, chili, Restaurant Brands, wankers, ecstasy nor the babylon system.
But to you I’m just text on a screen I guess.
nnimus3 is a member of "Real" Life Artwork (No Photography), *Islands of The World* - 3/day limit, All Out Emotion, Everyday Life, Freedom In Words & Art, Imperfectly, Love Bullets, New Zealand Made, Pleasure & Pain, THE DARK CELL, The Red Writing Room and THE SPEAKEASY.
Posted about 1 year ago, 5 comments so far.
Posted about 1 year ago, 3 comments so far.
I can feel the weight of all my life upon my eyelids, and its all a-blurr, the road ahead. In retrospect, i’m more than just the sum of experience as I continue to simply be, with or without, no…
Wander, traveler, / see and wonder / whysoever not? / The treason of reasoning / is that the change of season / seems to lead me far / and further from this spot. / Beat upon the pulse, / the singing …
The screech of steel; the dogs are loose. It’s a short fight.
Oi! Artist! / spin me tales through time, / make reason rhyme! ...and he tries, so hard, / beads of sweat / collect / between the lines / that adorn the forehead of the bard / blood from a stone …
So this is the world in colour? I’d forgotten… All those nights buried, / locked away / coffee plunger and / Tanqueray; / to waste my days / in black and white / a thousand broken-h…
“War!” / cry out loud / to the city / as the buildings burn / an age / awaits salvation as the seasons turn / I’ll behead mannequins / and tread the well-worn stage / of the hypoc…