Insentient blisters in my eyes dilating agony
To matter and art I vow black veils of crushed pain
Breathing
Weaving
Placing my underskin on a pile of caterpillar game in nights of comics and short stories
This is a mote of someone else's memory and I'm haunted with mixed feelings of apathy which I try to accept
My haunted serenity playing someone's else's memories
I will grunge your thoughts of blistered  beauty
In your brain cells my toe nails painted with German literature
Just like Heidegger's and Hussler's beliefs of death
I died together
And epitome of ire is devour to time

Worm thought liking

All the snowflakes riot 

Dead in fluids.

Suffice of whit Of fishing rod above The drop cellar.

Death is innate perception of matter.

Matter is a matter of love.

Blizzard in a park Parliament of souls Vanished in whit.

Little moths dressed In barrels of clouded Devour of suns

Shoeprint on wings Of pituary gland cage Trembling stooped thought.

Thorns thorns thorns sea Scurry fishes and pearls of Night wheat fields.

Wonder winding fog Scavenging steel spindles Thumping footsteps.

Se ríe el cielo A la estrella tinta pluto Se madruga en chiste

Underworld of moths River of painful prints Of ingrown love

Satyresses, elfs and nymphs Aliens scavenging dirt Cheeks growing in.

Tip toe on leafs Scratching drops of far skies Visioning spring.

Dwarf in a case Of mind mote eaten In my own ocean.

Praxis of threshold Induces of Desain Limitless life.

Far by the raindrop I have knitted a net Of blissful pain.

We kiss sandman's palm Deceptively carrying on Trough sunset dust.

Fortifying grasp of inferno verse has multiplied buried mind of a female ant. Question arising towards immortal. Potentiality burnt down. Longest grasp of satiric monologue, Erased, Buried, Stomped at, Felt a touch of a female ant.

Pens and pins singing echoes to the chirp of Magpies On the summer porch, Within my arms, In my eyes pain of thought, Along above clouds, Lonely, Cupid drawing snowflake in the night of rye.

Stand by wired fence Kiss the vigorous sand On mermaids tail.

Crows are swarthy Ground is dust in palms Hair paints sky.

Water is iced My blood sugar tainted Light bulb is dead.

Sun ray is sharp Light bulb sturdy colour Of red verse.

Buds trespassing Love is a moonlight In the night of moths.

Dragonfly is sunrays Aptitude of septic Love locomotion.

Already Smythered by Michaela Draca - Powell's Books

Already Smythered by Michaela Draca - Powell's Books

Wings of beetle Guts in clemency steeple Dust of running star.

Eucalyptus 

Grass is pupating 'round 

Nail in my eye.

Koala talon Scream of never mourn Procrastinate.

Some cotton in my brain, I chase flicker of misery, Wired with nylon and rocks, I prey for a jinx stain. Still the flicker is remote, Mist of breeze skinless, My constrain vocal, Of a dark veiled anecdote. I caught the flicker in the eye, Of an inside dog And for a flick I read the story That is blooming every May. It's the cotton in the brain, That hits my eye a lot, I will be integrating with nylon and rocks, Just to dream and sustain. Into anther I will turn, For a spring or a two, Skin thirst I will dive Above and under the adjourn. For now only I am float, Of a death and life boat, To the walnuts I obey And to the deepest mote.

To the flesh of pores, To hoax punxies, To cut Inuits, To fur jinxes, To the doom; A prune.

Timber in my eye, Tear is inevitable, Heartbeat rhythm is.

In this time of Ignorance I Pray for eagles.

Cherry on a tree, Sunshine is protruding, Cigarette is burning.

To my father. It's been three years, and foggy sense has accepted peace, With aura of dead instinct entropy, That has placed in my heart viscous; Reversed darkness, Obsolete prayers, Wide open eye, Relatives in mess. Maybe another 12 months will understand astral moths.

I dream of kindness: Surface of a smile when dust polishes our palms, in a thunder breezing arms. Moths and flies have both wings but I dream of kindness ever more to shout in my own limbs.. Silhouette is a different form of shadow but I dream of kindness in a childish meadow.. Kindness struck my eyes when the light is dim and I dream of kidnness in my own rim.

Death is a sonnet, Viable sunrise in heaven net Of lyrics and pain, Alas no rhyme is a torment, Yet we strike ourselves with a soul stain.. Charcoal dot on a fingerprint route, Towards love and bliss, We cut our root , From any senses... For now only we are dead, Is it a sparkle? Where's my head? Someone's hit casual darkroom, Alas, dark matter is finally fed.

Love invention of a dun floating, is a sky space in barrels of rim. Last night toes have defeated fingers; consumption of fair manners. Darling is a reminiscence. Dreamt of cups filled up, with Love..

Pupating visible snowflakes I burst into your underskin, with pain in arms, I bleed through the vains of aftermidnight cigarette smoke, to choke on syllables you imprisoned, in my tounge; I am pupating.

It snows lucidity, prism feeling of an open wounded soul, grip of a sacred snowball that hits you sharply, falling, misfit of a virtue longing, through you, through the mundane ground, through the clown's tears...

Raindrop leaf, nightmare rim, alluding insomnia of crayon tin. Give inner sin to skin implied film. Climb. Reach the pit of crayon tin and make sure you don't hurt yourself by perversion steam. It's a relative sting of a pain swim.

Purification scavenging lump of a Dead end sea, Ocean is sleeping down there, Wearing sand wings pollen has caged spark, One synchronised tilt of love, Broken finger wearing moss, Arvo of sunrise in Austria, Locomotive murmur ripping dance of a pointy finger and the sand, Sand has scrolled down to the end of a Dead end sea.

My tear is intensity of a spiderweb claws, transient in smell, fluid in touch, scrutinised in look my tear is a happiness nook,,

Dirt sticks

Obscure palm hangs down mud gravity,, prolonging arm in a hurricane of dirt sticks,, water lilies up and under streaming direction of dark eye fishes,, where hurricane left awe of red,, then obscure palm dug out soul of a fish,,, to bewilder frost in current of dark eye fishes,, my own possesion is culpable current of awe,,, dark eye fishes dream of dirt sticks,,,

5 ducks amongst fluid,,,, fluid torched 6 ducks amongst devoid omens,,, amongst screaming old willow solo trees,,, 6 ducks trooping insticts to the shallow pit,,,, 5 ducks amongst frost pit,,,, amongst tame lit,,,, 5 ducks amongst pit,,,, 6 ducks charcoal flick,,,,

My tear is a sophisticated combat of virtous debut of tame,,, draining mortification,,, while it sleeps,,, to create to invert,,,,

My paintings

Step forward,

Tormenting limbo where raven greeted little people,,, to emancipate,,, to peep,, to perplexities,, mashing innocent pleasure of reachable,,, I will tear ,, I will fear,,, i will smear,,, i will be near,, to perplexities ,, forming ravens behind limbo,,, I will look forward,, I will nook to perplexities,, singing a melody of gypsy songs vaporating inspiration hit,,, to perplexities,,, to ravens!

Rain

Rainy drop forwards lines of a night interior , immaculate fight of darkness tin is begotten, gentle flake in a drop of night, knoted drop of chewing cloudy day, rainy drop is collecting its own, pain, saddened drop is collecting cloudy drops,,,,

Im an inversion immersed to, above the sea pit, Sleeping caged, watching lime soul, In the pit, Rocks are erased, my soul piously damaged, Ive learned to feel, maze, mouse house, dots n grindamen.

Agony in pores lit my palm, jinx of hurt vapours, my soul is a stunt of dr Moro's experiment, I salivate in portions of devoted arms, I hurt, I pray, I dance and I vain. Indicative weeps of warts of love. Algas of experience to food of grove stitches.

Purification scavenging lump of a Dead end sea, Ocean is sleeping down there, Wearing sand wings pollen has caged spark, One synchronised tilt of love, Pointy finger wearing moss, Arvo of sunrise in Austria, Locomotive murmur rippin dance of a pointy finger and the sand, Sand has scrolled down to the end of a Dead end sea.

--Glittering wounds of syllable thorns, Through the veins of snow pervasive, Lucidity of eternity analysis. Where breath turns to immersion, Of Verse dispersion, Through water and ice, To landscape with mice, Torture of born solute in a soul of frowns, In my pupil suspension, Verse dispersion. Battle for massive stones, Stones of imaginary foams. --

Humble shadow of durable sun, Within prize of dull affair, Between hale of scorn and tears of Crickets. Dormant naught of wishes. Dreams of dust. Pupils on a scaffold skin.

Wild Pallete: Hi Allhow to begin a blog for the first time... t...

Wild Pallete: Hi All
how to begin a blog for the first time... t...: Hi All how to begin a blog for the first time... this has taxed my thinking after my son announced he had set up a blog for me. He was kind...

Artworld1

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LwGLE7VwV68 My first video clip about capturing a movement between objects of art to perceive imaginary.

Colour vision howling-colour vision oowling-colour vision -- foreign mission-platonic-mission-mission--in home-liaison--summit in an arm of beauty-howling-howling-howling-aiming to grid-a surface hug--howling-howling--aiming to grid-a narrow gut--aiming-----howling. When the rose becomes a stub-and stings cross the arms-of sadness-and-liaison--we turn to spiders-for exquisite naughts-that grow inwards. Do not cry if it stains-do not cry if it stays-o not cry if it invades.

Mt. Taylor - Canberra

Reserve Park - Canberra

Inscrutable downright ending syllables of possum night, Invigorating accidents in practice of love chains, Mimic of a dismounted possession, Rhymes in village wells. Clues to music, Chapters of knowing, Existence is instantaneous priority of backtracking love, Instincts. Pledged to reason to fight a beginning and end of infinity, Class is tantalised, And clasp is a virtuous lock on luck obsession.

Worming plains through the loss of; Mist Hanging. Praying. Preying to intrusion of mown with summer, Truth in sedative drawing of summer, Lying, Fidelity in a skin of deity, Line vacation, has provisioned anatomy of critical creation, Contrariety of sweeping Xmas beetle. Cartoon characters relish dust.

Provisional beat of moulded living fantasy, And the sea goddess brings fortune! In his mouth; Wisdom as old as the city of Zadar, Aim to visit genealogy of syllables is long gone. ‘Como descubrir la alma del mar Muerto.’ Bright nights and tamed souls are free again, within mater; the way to right is way towards the doors of melted screams.

Bumble bees and bees, artichoke and fees, trampolines and senses, wicked nocturnal serenities. Tree trunk celestialities, armored transcendental primordialities, screams towards ryes anti pro-principialities. of misconception, of realized suffocation of drowned immersion hearing a cloud pain. Ay!!! Wrought pleas, of nocturnal screams!!!

In my eyes pain of thought, Along above the clouds. Lonely. Honeybee drawing a dry leaf in realm of Landscaped sunrise of wicked. Fun.

Murphy said he was a naught, spilled the pink nail. snails said naught was a trail, of a cloud veil, in the mighty lyric, of a Sodom riot!!!!

Curtain above hoping on an anarchy anchor, Murmur of cockatoos still, Pursuing withered frogs in a lake of utopia strike. Anchor is always above the water. One cockatoo still, Sings, Prays, Preys, Dilates, echoes, weeps.. Frogs are dying with a rhythm of dew breeze, Curtain is crystallized.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/s?_encoding=UTF8&field-author=Michaela%20Draca&search-alias=books-uk

In my wicked tent sound of pain; O, begotten stay still, Note of sarcasm with rabbits and yellow beak birds, Hives and milk intrusively howling. Food in a boredom of lucid; ‘I drank half of it’. And the tent scrolled up, Towards the instinct and syllables, Partial equipment of sucking wounded.

Verses from Rocks!!!

Knots and apples, in her jungle .. Me with sustainable feeling of horrid, Suit me with immaculate rebirth of scorned, Tantalise me with sunset bite of mesmerised, Fluid angel, Virtue dangle, Fusing, Along the skin crusts sustained poll, Vowing, Rising, Mistifying, Knots and apples in verve.

Sculpture.

I used to be alien. Scorned of barrels, saddened drops of moths, I cut my hands than, Both hands dance, On a sheet of squared tabrle cloth. Accident. Hands vividly place fingertips into nails, Scorned of barrels, saddened drops of moths.

Poems from the Sea Salt..

-- In toss of writing, Kernel night, came placid handshakes, virtual night, sense of poetry lumping. -- Earthen mermaid flows above the land, Still night burden, Flows by the sea, quiet end of earthen mermaid. Death of Demitia, freedom to pain. Rise the sea foils around his neck, Bumble bee was a slave of the earthen mermaid touch. -- Snake with wisdom in fingertips, Pain in water of charisma, a square is smooth realm, forwarded pain. Silhouetted at.

http://www.amazon.com/Already-Smythered-ebook/dp/B0084XL61M http://www.amazon.com/Sea-Salt-ebook/dp/B00A67TXUU/ref=pd_rhf_dp_p_t_2_2J52

http://www.xlibris.com.au/bookstore/bookdisplay.aspx?bookid=501661

http://www.xlibris.com.au/bookstore/bookdisplay.aspx?bookid=502361

Couple of words on my art..

I write about torture of mental wounds. In inability to articulate language since developing mental illness (psychosis with depression)I went to where I always was.. to words. My poetry is a reflection of this pain i gained during my adolescence, young adult life and now in my early 30's. You will find joy and serenity in my works (paintings and poetry). These are what I am aiming for to broaden my ability to 'create'.

Some of my artworks..

Poems from the Already Smythered

Her breath upon her thighs, twining unknown,

Elucidating rain brings desire

Of what is diminutive space up towards face

Who’s sold the freedom!?

Yelling like an owl forced to look at the sun at noon,

What was her dress slicking down the feet,

Moving around feet,

Robbing themselves around her feet

So her nails whisper,

Who’s sold the freedom!?

Thighs and ankles towards feet.

Nobody’s free yet!

--

Pain is my aim

No time for plain

Fill their trees

With milk and soil

For aim that is in time

Isn’t a pain frame,

It is solely pain of aim.

--

Like a stunt of notorious presence of stains she’s grasped confusion pocket of possessed Oedipus that rid into veins of selfdom. Promiscuous and blunt; freedom of necessary lies to follow the myth. She’s him, him is mine, mine is vain.

Procrastinated, nonsensical game of bored sum of equal, coloured, eyes; marbles. ‘Shine vain!’, scrupulously invited pain. Oedipus.