Tag: Asemic writing

Asemic Map 6

On By elmediatIn Art2 Comments

 

Notes found on the back of Asemic Map 6.

These have been diligently translated using an algorithm that detected three unknown languages. There were textual adjustments in finding equivalent contemporary words. The experts had some disagreement as to whether these were math formulas or poems. Further division occurred over whether these lines present tax assessments or incantations to protect travellers from sexually transmitted diseases. A minority believed these were notes in preparation for political debate.

He himself first has Disc Ptolemy with his father to strike the statue and place the intruder.

 

Part of the negligence is all work ~*

<<<<?/P^

The Sailor carried a huge thread base –

a voyage of solitude and lachrymose wings.


The last Riardo Table is the Doited Romans ~*

immunogenic tangle-bush of the suspicious people –

after the middle.

The baggage fudges against the cool alien. The opera succeeds. The instinct burst dictates into the royal megachilidae coordinates. A whatever hum moans beneath the doom. A contracted promise warms to a token near an overdue existence. The vertical tale leaps a badge.

Asemic Postcards 39 & 41 – sharing experiences

On By elmediatIn Art3 Comments

Waiting for the amp in the squatter –
It was a sleep inning.

The flower petals

were singing,

even tho’ the gardens were empty.

 

 

Lockdown – a perverse brass band

playing on an onion computer,

accidental parliament impalement package.

 

 

Could have been a contender –

barroom bazookas slip out the door,

what we have is a failure to communicate –

static of the soul & the heart,

unconfirmed cockroach,

clambering cacophony in cabinets.

 

I’m speeding-up > ignorant tweets<

so I could be suffering dolorous figments.
Had my foreground tag forested –
a trickling resentment,

just a low priced fickle gatekeeper.

 

~portability probability potential~

-revealed exp. stairs’ spider dread *
Their confusion and the arrival of gossip

were me – inevitable pushing.

Bicycle woods, blame the cobbler’s grief,

forget stereophonic demands –

here comes democracy

wearing a face-mask.