ZITO! Online Journal Established 1988 first literary art journal online.

Support Human Rights, End War Crimes, torture, Hunger, Religious and Corporate Abuse ... Absurd words are these words that human spirits dream Created, perhaps it is enough to be spoken to live Emotionally abstract as it is A bullet red with my blood ends these words For all is not imagined, but all is created Words are those elusive mirages of desert waters rambling on, Dry and withered words, on dry and withered pages (meaning nothing) Walking, and wondering where they are unwanted Wetting my lips, quenching in hallow illusions my thirsts We follow in hopes of finding life anew In that reflection which does not live but exists Dry crumbled leaves of brown crushed by light touches Of soul thrown about in dry and heated winds Drunk with illusions, while we are loved, we are also hated In refreshment by, lakes, streams and oceans, we are told sweet lies In preparation for the famine of winters, Summer fields, sunning contending with being, In demeaning existence of nothingness, I exist Though perhaps you are even less than I As you are a product of your thoughts alone Empty, and confused As I for you am the same, we are nothing Living only in the creation of new idols we dream of digital realities When in reality that which is, is what it is, Not what it is made. From the pulsing electronic binary code of anti-matter Born of "Idiot Savants" in their madness destined for greatness Born in ignorance and folly, by for and of the ignorant? Certainly no impossible task or feat for simple minds! Chains, O sweet chains, enslaved in service of reality I salute you O sweet chains so that this life is not in vain Whatever that thought true may be in meaning Separated by merely a few degrees of separation Within which we are trapped More so in our words than in living a fiction When we live in rhetoric, and simple and plain Dying in fact that life is a lie, and a greater evil Living in a fiction in moments past words dead and dying Do not justice. From dead poets, of mortal lives, concrete specifies in material forms Payment I have for my words in terms of years. For one word (with six letters) the cost is six years As you ask me so much (too much) when the police ask nothing? The payment of the cost, gives me the right, to tell anyone of you to go to hell. Please ask and say nothing, for we know good and bad (Except in that you can not distinguish matters you are bad, and evil, Without respect as to the nature especially for your own words and promises intellectually, as you review them, correcting matters as you go, but then at the moments precise you recite them). Tormented in what is not shared, inadequate in speaking we are alienated Struggling as often we are lost in our own words of babble and chaos In what at best a universal art before which issues my flag waving stands tall Made of great poetry in absurd words

Support Human Rights, End War Crimes, torture, Hunger, Religious and Corporate Abuse ... Absurd words are these words that human spirits dream Created, perhaps it is enough to be spoken to live Emotionally abstract as it is A bullet red with my blood ends these words For all is not imagined, but all is created Words are those elusive mirages of desert waters rambling on, Dry and withered words, on dry and withered pages (meaning nothing) Walking, and wondering where they are unwanted Wetting my lips, quenching in hallow illusions my thirsts We follow in hopes of finding life anew In that reflection which does not live but exists Dry crumbled leaves of brown crushed by light touches Of soul thrown about in dry and heated winds Drunk with illusions, while we are loved, we are also hated In refreshment by, lakes, streams and oceans, we are told sweet lies In preparation for the famine of winters, Summer fields, sunning contending with being, In demeaning existence of nothingness, I exist Though perhaps you are even less than I As you are a product of your thoughts alone Empty, and confused As I for you am the same, we are nothing Living only in the creation of new idols we dream of digital realities When in reality that which is, is what it is, Not what it is made. From the pulsing electronic binary code of anti-matter Born of "Idiot Savants" in their madness destined for greatness Born in ignorance and folly, by for and of the ignorant? Certainly no impossible task or feat for simple minds! Chains, O sweet chains, enslaved in service of reality I salute you O sweet chains so that this life is not in vain Whatever that thought true may be in meaning Separated by merely a few degrees of separation Within which we are trapped More so in our words than in living a fiction When we live in rhetoric, and simple and plain Dying in fact that life is a lie, and a greater evil Living in a fiction in moments past words dead and dying Do not justice. From dead poets, of mortal lives, concrete specifies in material forms Payment I have for my words in terms of years. For one word (with six letters) the cost is six years As you ask me so much (too much) when the police ask nothing? The payment of the cost, gives me the right, to tell anyone of you to go to hell. Please ask and say nothing, for we know good and bad (Except in that you can not distinguish matters you are bad, and evil, Without respect as to the nature especially for your own words and promises intellectually, as you review them, correcting matters as you go, but then at the moments precise you recite them). Tormented in what is not shared, inadequate in speaking we are alienated Struggling as often we are lost in our own words of babble and chaos In what at best a universal art before which issues my flag waving stands tall Made of great poetry in absurd words

ZITO!
Online Journal: of creative flux,
dialectical, disembodied.
abstract, poetic expression.

Established 1988:
the Online First literary Art Journal in the World.

Left of the Right,
Right of the Left,
Not in the Center.

ARCHIVES

POETRY OF MUTED EXILE

Andrew Stergiou Article Archive

Devil's Apprentice Hell & High Water Podcast

POETRY AUDIO FILES

GALLERIA RITRATTI DI AUTO - SELF PORTRAIT PHOTOS

GALLERIA DI FOTOGRAFIA

GALLERIA DI "ART"

MEMORIAL TO THE UNKNOWN ARTIST

Eleni Aldridge Stratowerks

FUCK YOU the blog click here

Ho Chi Minh in New York Video (9.38Mb)

Affiliate Web Site Projects:

TEMPLE OF REASON (Deists)

MENTAL PATIENTS LIBERATION FRONT

PUSHED PAWN CHESS

ANDREW STERGIOU

GARAGE MUSIC STUDIOS

Subscribe to The Devil's Apprentice Hell and High Water Podcast

HELP SAVE WESTERN CIVILIZATION FROM ITSELF. JUST SAY NO!

Internal Advertisements:
----------------------------------
Interested in getting videoed, we would love to help. Email:
andrew_zito(at)hotmail.com
with "VIDEO ME" in the subject line.
-----------------------------------Do you have a finished final edited manuscript for publication 44-120 pages email: andrew_zito(at)hotmail.com
with "PUBLISH ME" in subject line
--------------------------------
ARE YOU A POET AND NEED A PROFESSIONAL WORD PRESS BLOG? Contact us
-----------------------------------

Universally Copyrighted, All Rights Reserved (copyright 1976-2011 Andrew Stergiou Arts-Directory.org - Literature Web Directory Join the Blue Ribbon Online Free Speech Campaign!