x ow x

today everything is broken; all over the place, even much below sadness. all clouds look like albino cotton candy monsters. I have screaming dots on top of my shoulders, memory card errors and fiction free problems.

today it sometimes rains. nothing works properly and everything acts wrong. thin king has droped his thing inside my ink and it's sinking while I think.

today it's like living inside a war since was born. one fun game of nightmares and dreams. between pillows and sheets. troubles, sweets and favourite bruises. precious lyrics inside grey boxes.

today you are somewhere else, I'm lost and she is alone.
I think he doesn't have a clue about these.

please, please ow please!
magic words are made of x's.

pearl

she had this smile on her face. blooming like a butterfly. skirts flying on the highway. sofistication followed by racoons from last saturday. it was about an escape from the rusty neighbourhood. leaving the crown back. leaving the crown room with respect. she had this big dress on her. made her look like a new zealand spotty. lips served flesh, kinky meaningless sentences around her neck. she used to be the one, now she was two lonely. double soul in a trunk. leftovers of a selfish drunk. one princess to be a pirate, with no rum but a bum.

jazz like a pearl,
take me home.

labour

comb your hair. take the train. go to work. kill the best times of your life on a workbench. slip in, slip out. broken lunch brakes, deadlines on your face. slip in, slip out. wheels with sparkles, empty treasure boxes. lovely telephone particules, online cookie monsters. better than a boss with huge green tentacles. take your time. computer your head. play the pain. come sweet home. plug your joy, stick to tv. sleep the rest of your life. slip in, slip out. break down.

let's vacate, vacate away
dive sunbath on hot bitches.

hook

my song with bubbles is only distinguishable underwater. If you want to catch a fat melody first you have to dive deeper than fifteen teeth.it's scary like a square watermelon with billions of talking seeds,I know. I know, I have so many words in my mouth that if I cough I will sound very sick or my blue blues are not even soaked to their skins. I know, some funny fish do enjoy sunshine and some may even enjoy flying with pink pigs. but I miss in two minutes and you miss with twenty meters.


*
this post pretends to be a fake fake love song,
with no shame on its omega, elegant and colour full hips.

tiny thoughts

canvas my mind and primer my soul. smash my tubes then wet my brushes. today I have tiny smiles inside my head, tomorrow world domination beybe!

*acrylic on canvas 10x10(cm)

weird science

when I was a kid, I used to dream of becoming somekind of a genetic engineer. I think this was slighty before thinking about becoming a porn star or an illustrator. Actually after realising I have to act more sensible about my future plans, now I just want to be the king of the world. I feel like a king nowadays so you know what they say, feeling is "almost" everything.

"a brand new sketchbook,
will bring love to your habitat."

one love

"For the sixth consecutive year the summer season kicks off with the Efes Pilsen One Love Festival. This year Underworld and Beastie Boys will pump up the volume on June 15th & June 17th in Istanbul."

"Random blonde bio high density,
Because I Feel Disgrace
Because You're All In My Face."

hick!

this little naughty pussy crushed the night out to find a foxy lady. a whole woman who shall cook him extravazanga large dinners and fix some pandastic cocktails. she should have a talent on each finger and an extra on her curly tail. a woman to remind her to pay the bills and serve clean underwear, also some ironing would be pretty cool. so this little naughty kitty cat travelled down the city to the central park, to find a long four legged pussy cat. someone to crawl over and someone extremely huggable. someone handy and mandy.

along the way, he bumped into old friends. "hey pal! come over" they shouted. they had a big bottle of raki, some white smelly cheese and a huge bucket of fish with them. "well" he said. "why not" so all sat on the short grass under the stars and started to chill out. the weather was lovely until the buttom of the glass.

it was nearly morning he said goodbye to the old friends and took the way back to home. "hick hick" the buildings looked like clay and the road was running away under his feet. "hick hick hick" all of a sudden he saw this beautiful creature near the red brick wall, at the end of the street. one furry goddess to be on the cover of fhm. she was licking her long tail passionately. he came closer and said "hellow there foxy" she smiled. "would you like to check out my stamp collection, at my place?" she smiled again. "I haven't seen you around here, where you from?"

"I came here to visit my sister" she said. "show me the way. "hick hick hick hick" she had the loveliest eyes and high ears. "hick hick" she was like out of dreams. they arrived his hatch and entered in together. "bum bum bum bum" ah that was a wonderfull morning.

when the sun was over the hill, he was awake. but "oh noes" the foxy lady was gone, without even a notice. "well, whatever" he said. "lets buy a newspaper and spend the day home "alone again". but when he looked around for his wallet! it was gone! he looked around for his watch! it was gone! he looked around and the tv, playstation, even the microwave was gone! "damn" he said.

"that smelly old cheese really sucked hard."

blow

Are you unsatisfied? You can't make up your mind.
When you can take me by the hands and I will close my eyes.

Are you working up to something?
But you give me almost nothing.
Keep me helpless up to something on my knees.

Would you ever be my,
would you be my f-cking boyfriend?


lyrics*
The Bird and The Bee

bijou

love is made of marshmallow

some like to do with a camp fire,
some like to swallow raw.

the happy mad sad

there are poems written for this big fat city by sick and tired poets not born in this city to the ones who has no idea about this crappy happy mad sad city which actually belongs to cats and pavements but not to the stars in the quite boring grey sky.

aloe

it's always summer time my mind gets blocked and locked. so lazy music with crushed ice and lemon souce. trying to figure it out, how many penguens left in this world. I will never see the north pole nor south. we are living in so similar and small towns with lack of oxygen and love. I would like to go on a date with a caveman. He could tell me about all sort of things and hit me in the face with his huge stone stick. life is unfair kill yourself or get over it. or maybe find a summer job, love, shopping schedule and take it easy. drink slow act like dancing. it's so hot in my room, can barely see my future. hope it works and he calls and calls and calls again. I started to hate my lovely smoking attitude. let's call it a day and fall a sleep.

bambuuchia. where are you scooby doo?
listen to james and his all dead friends...

how

we are in need of a musical revolution. in need of. in the darkness, there is so much I wanna do. I shall blame it on the boogie. play play play, study steady work hard. hiç de bile gayet şirin, hıh!

<3

taco's holiday in

today I is happy. me is a hungry cherry smelly lipstick like dancing on angelina jolie's lips and that's I call a huge rocky surface.

I dressed like a pony and went out for some printing issues. BUT I guess, the butthead printer guyz thought the saturday as a freaking extra holiday. some cardboards and some f word plus 3M spray mount killed my pocket money. arrest the suspicious border people, too. so I walked around and came around and wondered around. taxi drivers are so chatty and that makes me sick too. so I'm happy now, monday will be an extra ordinary day full of bumbum.

thank you for the fish.
in need of a deep damn holiday,
i never ate taco.

spot

I feel very much strange at bus stops. They are best in spring, on tuesdays. sundays are usually scary. saturdays are slow. mondays are late and wednesdays are cold. thursdays are crowded and fridays are ugly. bus stops are best in spring, always on tuesdays.

spring, ring, ing
wake up ema, woke up.

ultra cure

it knows you. which brand you smoke and which machine you drive. what color is your mind, where you read your porn, what you drink while playing video games. eternally cooking for you. feeding the birds with your leftovers. cats under your table. stolen apple pies with no interesting odour. pure sunshine is not good for you and it knows you.

that you kiss the girl although she has a broken jaw. your stormy love songs, where you hide your socks or your punk photos. it knows what you like to have in the morning, in the night or during jogging. when you look after your contact lenses or your unknown babies. it knows what you wear in the bath and that you undress everything when you see a caterpillar. your bestfriend, the ultimate weapon you used last weekend to destroy your cuddling neighbour.

that you wish you went fishing with aliens. how you scratch your legs and watermellons get jealous. when you brush your teeth and koalas get drunk. why you miss your ex and bright eyes laugh inside you.

you make no sense to me,
i make no sense in this place,
it knows you better than me,
jump to the right and follow the leader.

nursery

last fm is fun. I want to dream about you and gonna make you mine. this nurse stuff is all over me now. no place left to hide. suspicious. excited. what number is devils half kiss? what color is your depression hair? how much is your ankles? tell me more.

Winter is snow. snow is on my door. I want to spend some more time for more and more. wouldn't it be great to ride a horse and live in a four hundred thousand pounds village near any british city. if you do, please run away faster than you can.

I wish the blue washed out and pink rotated in an extraordinary angle. I hope sun comes back when everybody makes his and her own icecream. I want you to melt without your carrot.

today is not my birthday.
sleeping is stupid.

equilibrium

it's all about science. always got the highest grades. a geek freak trying to act cool in the same spot, for too much long days. this world is too much interactivated. all lifes are at least once, terribly toxicated. looking forward to recieving a forward about saving my spare times. it's too easy to say there's nothing great about tv or internet. easy to say. we are the naked kings and queens in front of our usually blank screens, in this kingdom of sellfishness. that's pink in theory.

the fight club avenue. lesson 8 point six. illustrator cs2 saved my life on a 24 houred gray day. permission denied. if the room starts getting smaller you should better get rid of the unused furniture. junk is addictive. pull your strings until you climb off the walls. empty the boxes. fill the boxes again. this is what i luv to do in rainy days. remember and forget. at the same time. so my screen shines alot and my window gets all jeolous about my paintings.

standing on a circus ball have never been that easy. sometimes i feel confused and restart. if i sound meaningless, answer me. if you had to choose only 1 thing to do all your life long, what would it be? please try to scare the crap out of me but be honest.

sometimes hobbies have to turn into jobs and die. this way we swim safe with the tidy equilibrium wave.

this is no good.
get down.
i said get down.

illusions

all dreams are true illusions.
and sometimes empty classrooms, too.