Strobe Anna

Early cuts of a creative novel.

Every time I try to paint the pieta, something happens - the Vatican! That must be where it's from. Alabaster walrus trots thru the Poe. Edvar Greco reenacts the globular mysteries of his shining fondness. Gandhi's spinning wheel rhymes in strands wiv the deaf metallic krypton. Iconoclast shifts twice in the wind. A grasshopper appears whirring a chorus of Sidney Bechet....

Obama Whitmanite

Swords clashing with the to and fro centaur warblings. Anna arrives from her retreat in the upper stratosphere. Ffestiniog railways festooned with oodles of imagination. Pay no attention to the lashing rivulets for they are possessed with the dementia of silent dead feet.

Captain Strobe: Ahar! Well I'll be, I have found the pearl at the bottom of the oceans.

Anna: A chorus came upon them. Has anyone found my fleetwood mac cd?

Strobe: The very essence of the mandala you see is made up of a tiny amount of green hairs that fibrillate ever so rapidly, creating the cosmic illusion that you are on an organic pirate ship.

Anna: I've got a funny feeling in my bones. There's a hermit out in those woods, and he's taken a fancy to my doorknocker.

A Ginger Emma Hanid sprinkling paprika on my mother's grave.

Ghosts aboard ship.

A turgent demon appears writhing furiously. Red beard mayavision...
Razor sharp beard, cutting the edges off concords. How does it seem? Am I merely living a religious dream? Motionless scorpion revolving on the night's hibiscus andolution.
selectivity appears conquering the inner savage.

Ruthfull Rackham appears, forstering secrets in a jar. "Woof" he cries as he leaps into the silent yellow cavern, the Chinese chef's daughter's lair. "A lantern for thee". All plastic it was with a charming melancholy around it. "We were told three days was the correct amount of time to wait for the black ooze. It still hasn't appeared." Cold atrophy all around. The night gleamed with the violet-coloured stroganoff. As the apathy weaned it's blue cusp around the foolish neighbours, the water on the sill rippled gently. "An omen from afar" whispered Ruth Shakti.

Mayavision the golden masked avatar appears. Razor beard hand cut by his own poetic hand. "I shall appear in seven days. And I shall paint a wonderful cymballistic Shakti. A near spontaneous ritual.
A green greek god appears dressed in orange. He is lolloping up and down, drinking Aspall Cider. His eyelashes are slightly drooped. His red wicker mexican hat falls down over his head. He pukes in a skip on the way back from watching football at the pub. A banjo playing stiff lays abandoned naked tattered in the hall.

Put the poem in the pan

Receiving from his mother Earth new strength
the air expired from whence the fresh mother,
liberearted from the veil of parliament, ventured a
reverie to Jerusalem whose flesh still pounds
with the virtue of a thousand years.
In what Parish of Father's mother, courageous
fountain of salted riddle. Proudly Dutch
amphibian museum of scattered leaves in the sunshine.
Super Aquarian morpheous rock symphony.
Divine jazz proudly devoured along the fiery globe.
Angels on full sail - no plums for the watchtower.
William Bright the mowgli of vida-quarters.
Unseen pile of catalogues misplaced in a society
of wolves. Delegated terrapins sent to orgasm
in the juice of the infinite fairy dust.
Stomach settled to the blow of mysterious saxophone waffles.
Mescaline wails, a conversation of madman to madmen,
always assailing after the gone woman.
Great muse of Nelson's shoulder. Silvery blue-green
Macaws shouting the true nature of the abyss into
the heart of the statue.
- Fulbourne art room