Wishes
From all the wishes that became true
yet I've might have blown too many
But the last ones
I save for you..
#mywords #myphoto #AlinevanWijk #ForYou #BlackandWhite #PhotoPoetry
#mywords
Lapping with girth
Geisha mouse, presented with charm, serene contemplation, they caress with a language unsurpassed, doctoral incisions the theatre of re-enactment, covertly tunes of baseline appearances. You bask the adulation, welcoming threads you adorn to the test of introspection, teeter volume the invest of reign, sound shapes our conductive words, brighter the thorough restoration. Brimming stead useful are the canister, metrics shown to have thought placed in redolent vapours, silvery matches the alluding satellite. Watch step one, then the step of one you have made is twice the distance to the prepared dish, measurements volume the ground we make. Afar the reporting return, opened wishes course the contemplate, if direction of ground through making the sound inclusion, has combination to the distance traversed, record the exit, traverse shallow plates withheld to you, abundance the application of misinformation, the stroke of one past midnight, sees through to the applicating focus, we belong spectators of a disbelief.Adam Blewett ©
63 Afrofuturist pictures
🛠 Text-to-Image App. from Stability AI
[Hugging Face / Stable Diffusion] -> 🗣 Start to talk here :)
thX again @clarice@diaspora.glasswings.com ! ... and now, time 4 visual prattle... :D
#afrofuturism #mywork-to-some-extent #mywords in #pictures
#Text-to-Image #HuggingFace #StableDiffusion #StabilityAI #application #random #art
Ella
its teaming destinations, without recourse its automation, ambitious from the centrifuge, of attractive oscillations the puny shapeless applications of misappropriated ambiance, fulfil a dutifully salient world. They cargo their yester-thoughts in emblematic designer cartels, silence provided the external voice lamplit, nightfall for they scope balm of the atlas capitulator. Mozart they agreed to shun for the less habitual, spoken they had to, implying them the returning carnages, measures his success encouraging a trail, road to have of the lasting.
Wishes named stalling the installation, preemptive reports of circulation, oscillating an image no attune, could replay. They Federated his words, played with one baroque notation, lent heavily on applying automation, don’t captive me with enshrined equality, their best is to advert their exposure of where they were lent the thought of schooling, not my thoughts, need they know.
Conversating to then mind the incomplete millage, respect came competent, tail the tell of fallen men, introvert the stationary world, lime its a colour lips have to the newborn. Boris wouldn’t eat his leftovers, take the ocean road, i hate it when you have to explain the-way-to him.
English below :
Sables du temps : chaque grain porte un présent.
Sables émouvants : qui file avec le vent.
Sable étonnant : Qui lorsqu'il fut perdu se changea en néant...
... qui s’il fut vécu deviendra un instant.
L.V
Photo: Tom Hegen (desert de Namibie vue du ciel)
Sands of time: each grain carries a present.
Moving sands: that go with the wind.
Amazing sand : Which when lost turned into nothingness...
... which if lived will become a moment.
L.V
Photo: Tom Hegen (Namibian desert from the sky)
Lohan
Mind, in silence.
Observe the world within, the world without,
but do not judge,
for all is one, and all encompassing.
Smile at all the folly you have known,
within; without.
This strange insight,
apart from all, perceiving all, with gaze
unfixed, yet sure.
Become the seat of peace and clarity;
sit, at ease with all life may demand –
it turns to nought.
Impassively,
expression has no force upon the face
where passion fails.
This non-response, forever, will withstand.
Smile with joy, and sadness, on this world,
being neither.
© Simon J Ashcroft, 2022
Ithaca, my Pledge
From what far shore, unseen, with arms of welcome
Penelope sings yearning words of home?
Across the sea, wine-dark with ancient story,
the storm obscures desire. I am bereft
of wisdom that would know the arrow’s flight.
What path my boat would cleave no longer matters.
A random journey, mine, and blind my haven.
I will not seek her warmth, nor claim her comfort,
where wild ambition veils my surer step
in obscure lusts for hope that stands unfounded.
Needless goals removed – without fulfilment –
I seek the aching songs of solitude
to know my deeper heart, my larger conscience.
A certain journey, mine, but not its ending.
© Simon J Ashcroft, 2022
English below:
Je suis toi et tu es moi !
Vas, ne te retournes pas.
Pleurs, c’est humain, mais ne t’apitoies pas !
Ça n’est pas l’amour qui s’en va:
Il est partout.
Cesses de voir tout divisé !
Car en réalité, rien n’est séparé !
La pierre, le vent, les caresses de l’instant…
...Laisses toi danser par la vie,
Fait vibrer la matière !
Car je suis toi et tu es moi,
Car tu es moi et je suis toi.
L.V
I am you and you are me!
Go on, don't look back.
Crying is human, but don't feel sorry for yourself!
It is not love that goes away: it is everywhere.
Stop seeing everything divided!
For in reality, nothing is separate!
The stone, the wind, the caresses of the moment...
Let yourself be danced by life, let matter vibrate!
For I am you and you are me, For you are me and I am you.
L.V