Tuesday, March 11, 2008


I have always been struck by that which is beautiful.
Overwhelming, highest in the sky, flash-boom prettiness. Although,
striking causes trauma in the child.
Ghosts of a haunted past, eternally striking.
My Mother’s smiling, beautiful face
reminds me of her Goodness and
I soon forget her Evil Eye.

Strikes subside in the Subject
as the Doer’s fists stay dormant.
Danto: “I have often been struck…”
Kant: “…strikes the eye…”
The eye’s Sublime representation confused with striking Uncanny repression!
Beauty: Transformation of Repressed Horror
Grotesque: Representation of a Higher Love of Self in the Eye of the Beholden

There once laid cries of, “Madness!”
from across this infinite asylum.
Now, only the silenced moan.
It was the mad ones that were compelled to make this battle cry.
It was PTSD soldiers that suffered in their unconscious skirmishes.
Everything else died & two things survived.

I and Eye.

Eye and I.

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