gallery galore

owl and swan were close friends
owl emptied the blubber lamp over her white dress
and the raven was born
a raven saw a swan and strongly desired the swan's beautiful white feathers.
thinking the color was due to constant washing in the water the swan was swimming in,
the raven left his perch and went to live in the lake.
but washing in the lake's water had no effect on the raven's color and as he could not fish for food, he perished.
where the mariachi tune their sitars with the golden strings of the moirai
where the rivers overflew with blood and the wells run dry
where the meteor landed
where death brings about life
where my 9 year old cousins are orphaned and live on the streets with their ribs exposed
or in tijuana in a shack huddled up in the thousands off the side of the highway
off the border off the golden state
god bless the orange trees which blossom into wooden crates to be sold on the street
we do not claim ownership of all we borrow in this life
those who haven't lost themselves already aren't afraid to
where your organs find themselves in lunchboxes and your ghoulish tendencies exploited
where god cannot be killed
it secretes the honeydew into the embers unceasingly burning in our soul
cloaked in red to slide silver swords into the blind beast within ourselves
where mother locks herself away with her medicine cabinet
she either works or cries often simultaneously
while you lay in bed and stare holes into the ceiling
which reveal specks of light calling from long away
i chase in bumbling blindness to all things except them
before i reach them they spill into the rising sun
i light a fire and keep some flowers for the ghosts in my company
the vet with the holes in his skull bangs his head on the paper thin wall
you rollerblade indoors
tumbling through expanses of mountains, plains, generously sprinkled in trees and furry creatures
hollywood swingin anesthetize the act
two kaleidoscopic bulls flickering rainbows run alongside my passenger seat
the gateway to obesity is not physical but the gateway of wellness shares its location
the fetishization of victimhood as well as assaliance colors the faces
witch peer beyond the flaccid white illumination of their monitors
quarantined from grime
fractals of broken light form the grid which i store into
memories in long interlapping lines in neon across the color spectrum
endlessly tangled and mostly inaccessible
of cathedral peaks poking the moon with long tubular chimneys couldn't fit a baseball
wondering how a fat old man would break from convention to bring my present
and whether i could stay awake until deliverance
on the outside train rides in between carts as a school boy
smoking with one hand clinging to life in the shape of a steel handle being flung down the tracks with the other
the wind slapped the monotony of my institution into livelihood
there was a football stadium church complete w/ advert on multiple monumentous screens
occasionally the pastor's shiny well groomed cranium gyrated massively and fivefold
occasionally his well tailored suit and sparkling boots joined along
all that was heard was compliments and donation requests
i threw my hand in my pocket in hopes of bestowing a curse from the karma of my poverty
i was told expansion , of the esteemed pastor, richest in russia
my parents were russian, i wasn't , not american either
a priest invited me to a party with fun activities, pretty girls, and a midget
but i stripped to my boxers, threw aways my favorite shirt and jumped into the lake
were i proceeded to swim to a granite island november spikes shooting up
urinated off top of it, dove into the local public restroom
warmed my naked body with the hand dryer whilst surrounded by grown hairy man
defecating, exfoliating, masturbating, urinating, procrastinating, conversating
any ating you can think of
i remembered, the lady in rags
covered in dirt clinging to two children
laying on the grimy cement outside a supermarket
not too far off the discotechs, resorts, and malls of cancun
where i find gladness in my forgotten reflection
and blend into the road in a dimly lit corner
invisibility the preference in the contrast of orange spotlights and the deep starless void of night sky
urchins in mobs cavalry reminiscent attend to pick pocketing, shoplifting, and the like
a few blocks down they've graduated to robbery and narcotics
then goes the beach's finest spa resort and luxury hotel location
the beach itself? nothing but water
i tried to make a million dollars today again
days bypass season like words i've said in a dream
tinfoil carpets tar deco heaps of ash resin
pale brown foam bubbling ooze soggy and burnt cigarette
butts leap from the sink trailing down the hallway
watching time dry she waltzed in her hair the shade
of urine which dripples down the bare hairy legs
of the residential gnome who lives under a bridge as he
slouches in between cars indifferent to passersby
in time for the 3 am loop round
on a rainy night sidewalks doused in orange
street light puddles portals to nowhere
a small balding man finely dressed exuding a fiendish
aristocratic depravity propositioned me on the street
"i've got this beautiful young russian girl upstairs just here
but she'll only have sex if it's a threesome.
i feel so uncomfortable asking this but...?"
the old man stood afront a dimly lit corridor
entrapping barbie straight from clueless around 17
sniffling behind empty intoxication
i recognized her from elementary and not too much changed i gather
"i wouldn't turn that down if i were you, it's not every day you get an opportunity like this!"
i hate the laws of physics they are my mortal enemy but this coca cola sure tastes sweet
i was too busy jumping off 7 foot dressers utilizing
the flying elbow with utmost conviction
hypercaffeination, overstimulation, cartoony ultra violence
the childhood reverence of aggressive primal instinct
and idealized machismo
slowly overshadowed by the more subtle and sinister
dietification of a more abstract power
a billy club smear on the frontal lobe of the
mutant child where his miniscule siamese
clone used to be attached
blood spouted loosely as water from a
lawn sprinkling system out the indentation on its
face reminiscent of the deformation of a deflated basketball
or a doll tossed to the curb long ago
it intently studied its rolling bladed disco ball blouse
in various distortion of the gallery of mirrors
i wondered how many heart transplants that
dress consisted off
the value of a human life is determined by the efforts taken to save it
three threaded crystals floatings
two pyramids attached at the base
connected by a pulsating neon blue chain link
the singular light source of an all encompassing void
propelling itself and radiating irreverently
overlooking a waterfall suspended in continuum
drops traveling further than sight
inbetwixt two pieces of land of polar character
one was material and one was not
with a sliver of nothingness to serve as a barricade
as chaos stems from creation and visa versa, life and death
is one
the summation of all things existent and otherwise
within one spectrum
i wonder how many people would move to hawaii
if they thought they had the chance
or do they prefer the streams of wreckage
blurring polarity together wherest morality becomes
a matter of perspective
as reward and punishment
varying shades on the surface of consequence
beauty the comedy the perception is the reinterpretation of suffering
a product manufactured by envico at scranton, pa
i sat on the leather scaled scalp of the colossal serpent
we flew over the plundered empires, ransacked tombs
pyramids burn one moment, are frozen the next
the early pioneers of cloning in all their glorious studded iron assless chaps
offer tribute to the goddess of necrophilic pedophilia
noah in his lost ark encounters innumerable melting faces poised as humane
poseidon's cliffs evaporate longside them
as quick as a squirt of piss upon prodding a horse's prostate
blubberous bees frolic bout the nipple of gluttony
and cockroaches compensate for honey
they buzz and linger about, claiming their superiority
they covered themselves in plaster self acclaimed gods
the beast swallows all whole deemed untrue
when the sin of one's heart weighs more than that of a corpse of a pigeon
in the nebulae of the afterlife, in between this world and the next
like a house of mirrors whose reflections one could venture into
an emptiness of form and light and entirely reflective
in a row of strings like snowflakes
i ride the fanged whale, sun eater, destroyer of planets
to uncover the truth differentiate what it is from what it presents itself to be
and in its redirection do not perceive its destruction for everything has already been created
and when the only other choice is death, it becomes all predictable
and the variables of improvisation flood attempts of symmetry
and shift the ultimatum to spectrum through mutations individually
behind the average of automata lost in an incoherent binary
ruled solely by instinct
every ray of light has a shadow separating it from other sources of light which seek to break its form
zorrocaster vs aeneolithic bustas, break their axis fellow mutant freax
for future generations
dostoevsky chants fight or flight in his humbly sized darkly lit room at the end of a slithering labyrinth of a corridor in the halfway house i run up in purgatory
in this transitionary stage of the evolution of your soul
the only immortality is in the act of creation and its interactions with aliens or people 1000 years from now(hey)
look at the receipts, it's the war on terror
on dictatorships and fear mongering
which is the war on drugs
well the war on people who sell drugs
well without government backing
i don't think soldiers of all varieties, drones, a pre-existing wall, german shepards,
armored vehicles, jets, helicopters, mountains, valleys, coyotes, snakes,
cartels, involuntary organ donor services, chemical warfare,
disenfranchisement from society, homelessness, torture and interrogation,
and various organizations criminal or otherwise which hope to place themselves over the general public
is enough to keep these immigrants out, we need to build a big brick wall.
we must respect president lyndon b johnson's great society
but what is authority but a rifle
the coroner's wife
only 60 years younger
yet plumper than thy plumber
and not as big a tease
all your sacred cows feature in the feast
sacrificial orifices of a delicatessen savagery
i need a real man to get me what i want
the flesh of christ marinated with slave ship rats
bubonic plague preferable but not necessary
a daily dollar tax for the air you breath
each hour is the same as the next or the last anyways
then what is there to lose in some fancy decorative plants
my memories become cushioning for some marketing imprint
and my thoughts always lead to an insatiable thirst for coca cola
in my pursuit of the continued progression of universal morality
i've become insensitive
chasing the ghosts of my visions leave my vessel decay
perpetually strained and refined
death begot by death and fines for theft
as all incarcerated are former slave owners
what do you esteem human rights to be and what punishment is just
a circle in motion cannot be a sphere
death is imminent in the smallest mistake
to dive in the unknown frequency of the mystical cabinet
a dimensional rift in a chinese apartment
where the family has sat behind the dinner table without motion eternally
in the pocket between time and space
their son long disappeared found a cavity where the two part
in his pursuit of becoming a professional juice tester
i've never been to china but i've been in that room
and i feel through the hole and awoke a different being in a different world
the circle has a slight elevation like a ramp towards its conclusion
to go back to the beginning of the cycle would find you in that pocket between time and space
before all matters condenses to point unwithstandable and snaps
you order a taxi but you cant sit in the back because the driver's pig is sick
you open the window, he speeds up so fast he drag tosses you out and you're running
running down the highway dodging traffic, traffic like beams of light
he's driving so fast he can't make the wide turns yet each time you're supposed to crash the car dissolves and reappears through the brick wall
crossing skyscraper bridges on your fingernails destination of space invader cum crusader magical ponies with wings
my legs screams at me with disorientation tingly prickly needles and amputation
in the pocket lies a corridor with a series of vaults of which the keys are forged and utilized with vibration beyond light
the black hand which forged the third reich points to the unity of death
scantily clad judicial macroeconometric models pose in calendar catalogs
in a vietnamese internet cafe somewhere in the russian americas
mankind is insatiable
countries only exist to put someone's face on some currency
and through all the diplomacy and wars and sides chosen
will trickle down the bracket into one
and geography will be reserved for sailing
in search of
i remember my friends,
they've always been my friends albeit in different faces
In my memory a revolving door of who's really what, when, and where
I reminded someone of something they didn't remember
in turn i remembered it wasn't them i told it to
But i don't believe i've ever met the person i remembered
despite its inavailability to me, in pursuit of objective truth
I wonder if events, people, experiences can be erased
or at least substituted for more situationally advantageous faces for the future
I remember a busy middle eastern army airport and a dreamlike autopilot
as i do a young lady and her two grandmothers floating through the air on balloons
the characters painted in remembrance dissolve, deconstruct, and reconstruct
the past seemingly programmed i felt i'd been in heavy illusion
interacting with what not which i perceived to be
Once again recalling friends, experiences , love, heartbreak
Once again recalling every moment of my life thus far
I couldn't help feel it was all manufactured or tinkered with
despite the inevitability of failure in pursuit of objective truth
in some mathematician's abyssopelagic lair,
statistical game theory quantifies how many moments in time and what paths taken to apocalypse,
the proper percentage of hope we can afford ourselves,
and the leading cause of death for collegiate males who suffer of the inability to drive
and to think if some 50 year old virgin masturbates in china to imagined juxtapositions
of james dean and the christian tomb painters of 50 AD, the strings which pull the hands of fate sway in my favor
for it's a fact slave owner's grand children have pianos fall onto their heads
and kingpins have the pleasure of birthing junkies
intergenerational desensitization compounded to ancient ancestral kharmic link
or maybe synonymed, regardless, my fate is my own
When adolph was young far before the whiskers he was pulled by a great force seemingly gravitationally to a vast field of apple trees. He was surprised to find himself totally nude toes digging through the sand surrounded by mountainesque scoops of ice cream with whipped cream flowing from the top. Overhead, the monuments etched on pathways sprinkled cross the land levitated three flickering neon green lights shaped as cubes but in reality it was two.
"Who am I?" adolph asked having been created out of thin air moments ago.
Adolph was a small boy in every respect but one. His face was small, his arms were small, his legs were small, but his heart was big. He was currently painting watercolors of apples and oranges when he was suddenly grabt and dragged across tempestuous winds and fluffy white clouds. He arrived to consciousness covered in sand, clothing evaporated, laying in the fetal position. The congregation of apple trees gathered there today.
Adolph stood and lingered amongst the fallen apples, some rotten, some fresh, before picking up the core of an apple whose flesh long decayed and it spoke.
"You must travel to the center of this forest and speak to the council for they have beckoned for you."
The core then disintegrated into dust slipping through his fingers. When he returned to his room he found he could no longer paint.
spiders under my skin
i masturbate to origin
cake is good i like danger
danger isn't scary too scary
the world is ending on my shoulders
my death bed loops perpetually
the last breath is infinity
I haven't breathed in days
I go to the store to buy a two liter sprite
it tastes far away and hollow
my final second is still ticking
the walls hurt like they're my foot
I forgot why i thought this was a good idea
I take a nap
when i woke up i still haven't died yet
and everything is still so far away
I listen to some music only the treble comes through
it's so loud it distorts, bleeds into itself, and
become undecipherable noise but it's still too quiet
but then it goes away
and of all man's follies, of pity's allure
self preservation through idolization
expensive conture painted with pyramids
and stars which shed their light soley for you
i'm but a lowly roach in a rain drain
who's sundays consist of cold superior gazes
noxious gasses and crumbling skyscrapers
fall upon mine as if it were preached in church
in their everlasting superiority of worryless dreams
to detach the string which stems from the mind
whichever way the wind blows drifts entitylessly
into what is not our place to know or question
God is an intelligence composed from the summation or culmination of all that comprises existence and all it contains
the savage cannibals past borysthenes buried in ice
patsan vlyubilsa vkavo ya ne znayu
mama peristala pet bayu bayu
videl eyo golayu e zdoomal paigrayu
e vot slihka taki problemi reshayit
tam bila droogaya nu paslali evo v armiyu
v dushe nazhom ruki patsarapal
paslali damoy patamushta patsan destvitilna soomashetshi
ev domi sidel doomaya soldat mortve
e vtakom namerinye pashol eskat nevesti
capitan eta konmnata ya skazal da ona skazal net
shota delat? shto pa delat?

I wish to be the ocean
Free from the constant terror
Of thoughts dictates

I wish to be a crow
And live for 250 years
Giving gifts to all lonely people

In oblivion, I’m young but
I know enough

What is in a fever dream?
That your image unfolded
And you whispered I was yours

Grim visage of modern ruins
Bury the skeletons of withered hospitals
In shallow and unmarked graves

I’m too emo to f*ck this model
Sometimes the world is an orphanage
i wish to love with an innocent heart that has never been broken

It is hard to discern memories from the programming
It is hard not to live in fantasy

if it were up to me id be dead and gone
but you stay alive for other people
he told me every scar you keep
is a memory that you should remember
we both mutilate ourselves in our own unique ways

she reached towards my genitals from behind the bars of an endless golden gate
behind her flamboyant buildings stretched towards the sky mingling with each other
with one hand she cradled a large pineapple and rocked it gently back and forth
with the other she grabbed the air in the general direction of my genitalia
then she suddenly became enraged and threw the pineapple on the ground
just as suddenly upon realizing what she had done
she burst into tears and tried to scoop up the broken pieces of fruit back together
she screamed how they've killed her baby and she started to eat the pineapple
i live to watch h

About this poem

experimental poetry and prose compilation over the span of 7 years

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Written on October 11, 2022

Submitted by purplegreensun on October 11, 2022

Modified on April 23, 2023

17:25 min read

Quick analysis:

Scheme Text too long
Closest metre Iambic heptameter
Characters 19,620
Words 3,427
Stanzas 14
Stanza Lengths 146, 161, 13, 1, 13, 3, 3, 2, 3, 3, 3, 2, 5, 10

Discuss the poem "gallery galore" with the community...

  • VandhukK33
    Living the light.
    LikeReply8 months ago
  • VandhukK33
    Good flit.
    LikeReply8 months ago
  • VandhukK33
    Good glad to be living.
    LikeReply9 months ago
  • dougb.19255
    Now might you do one that is no longer than eight stanzas of shortish length? That too would be experimental, Danila. Try it out. Your mind and inner eyes, exceptional…Doug Blair.
    LikeReply9 months ago
  • dougb.19255

    Some stream of consciousness. For a redeeming effect. Try some if the same Danila.
    LikeReply9 months ago
  • dougb.19255
    I aged in years reading this. Long piece, too very long. But phenomenal in imagery, in shocking ejaculation. Sometimes, sometimes.
    the flesh of christ marinated with slave ship rats?
    LikeReply9 months ago
  • teril
    Your images are so powerful! Your stream of consciousness carries me effortlessly along with it - and suddenly we have stopped alongside some scene- which you allow us to visit with alarming clarity. What a trip - you are so good! 
    LikeReply1 year ago


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"gallery galore" STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 9 Dec. 2023. <>.

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In the Edward Lear poem, which instrument does the Owl play while serenading the Pussy Cat?
  • A. A mandolin
  • B. A guitar
  • C. A banjo
  • D. A violin