A Tickling ofsome Kind…SecureArrival… and other “Texts” from 2020/21


What if – time’s running somewhere – between the sheets of a journal that can’t be sold anymore – noone wants to remain unloved – but uncensored is the wish of butterfly perfumed girls such as those who wear those golden chains and tamagotchi keychains in the United States, Japan or the like. Give me a streetcam view of those places – are we burning again this summer? Where do all those incentives belong, who is the Bear that eats up all the yoghurt? Hurry up, noone will love you if you don’t stick to it. Work is here to be done every day and needless to say – give it away, it’s the clue of the answer that I have given you today. The windsor family must be doing something. But what’s it? Who knows? Tell me all those secrets, or probably let it be. Too harsh of an answer, could be, nervous is my system while others have issues too. That scent was probably a castrate’s. Or maybe he’s just a policeman, or a gallerist – hey that’s it. It’s the latest knock down. It’s a fish in the endless ocean, it’s ultra-bloopy. There are firemen working aginst it, in bushfires, a
passionate Guru, approaching life from another angle. Is all becoming meat for people who know better? Where does the white coat presentation fail? Will it ever get better? I don’t want anybody to know anything. Peace of mind, and gallerist perfume. Totem is in the streets of names like Ivory, somewhere in Alaska, where one can sit still without being arrested. They put candy in the throats of those animals that hit in the dark like a shot over your shoulder. Shreddering symphony, golden pill for the gates of glibberish grinding. Needed involuntary program they say, finally whats left of those nice people? I cannot tolerate it anymore.

The traveller

The traveller was ongoing with the red carpet. Thrones disposed like amber toiletpaper gleaming in the fire-room, answering machine on hold, carpet trolleybuses overloaded with that blue jeans corridor siren, sentenced to a toll, from far away refrigerators who weren’t there in the collateral corpse city. Bleached their hair, open their minds, but what to? Only a tiger would sense such arrogance, when it comes to the consumption of beer – restrained, refrained, relocated to money merchants. They both knew about the torture. Knew about the flesh around the bones. No pitbulls in the entrance, the air – stiff. That old piano there couldn’t be moved, the trash long gone into a land of desolation. Who was there to clip away the paper from train tickets? Plastic was their food, couldn’t be restored, renegade in an old territory trampoline.

Drill was their language in the military scope, blue their souls – rest in peace, robbery. For you will not be found without that soap bar in your wallet. Clean shaven, mirror ball, clouds cannot be compared to each other. Bitterness is evolving fast, the elevators being built daily. Without consent, nothing is pinpointed at a morning ascendant meeting far away with the wolves. Unimaginable this one liked. Dust is whiter than snow these days. Which is an ununderstandable act of foam that misses the carpet. Will it remain in debt, or is it closed down in the shoe carton that awaits its destination? Has it seen the world wide web before it hit the radio station with that DAB reciever? Has it known the neighbours, or was all predestined – in whatever way this may be looked at? Do the wind and the water comprehend, what a fool to be aroused by lettering!

Brainimagery sold on every other market, abstract or whatever style, ears in seals, numbers outdated, the digit is 6.

Climbing the arrows, one deer after the other, oscillating in horoscope holidays, drinking beer. Shape of the horizon, laminated thought with a wool pullover. What time is it? What season? Undermining minute maid. Best evolution, who’s the guy with the golden number? Does he wear sunglasses? Or is he forbidding his son to smoke cigarettes? Is ivory in stores, or is it long gone far away, where only dolphin’s reckognition is resting somewhere between 1 and 2?

gulliver stands firm in the middle of a movie. Holds his bleaching cream on his chest, while playing drums from that other movie, gone the actuality of that message. Kryptonic illness, oldtimer overview in a dance forgotten in the moth’s rehability sunstore, night is the flight, grey and thick the dust, that never stops from reappearing, even if no tornado is stunningly overwhelming in the sounds of electric apparatus that needs no further explanation. It is the violet oven that shimmers on that sunny day. Karate kimono washed in a soft rotation, miniature nanoparticles do the necessary, without asking for it to be real.


Mislocation of the greater lifespan is found on the carpet of the contrary solitude that affects millions in this collection of dead butterflies, as if they could fly, or rest, or do eat their chocolate cake in the afternoon. It has never been billed in the eyes of the tiger that lingers in the woods.

Is he me, or is all coincidence? Dancing skinheads raising their heads toward the security concept of the tall who lost interest; after all, it’s been done under the carpet of capitalizm corona.

The erect hold close what they know about dismissing targets. For a purpose was hindered the dislocation of granted goods, clowns have entered the scenery, have eaten like caterpillars in a rice farm. Oh what odour is it, on the clock of bitterness? What cemetery life do they hold in spite of a collective that rips them apart, of course, it’s the other way around. Pales upstanding in forced filigranes, towerbells no longer in use of sombrero fighting attitude, that has been emerging lately since the opening tasks operator yelling at groundbreaking news, to hit and to open a house against the will of hurricanes, smalltalks in supervised emotion that can only lead to tears.

Secret heavy metal grudging, collecting printables on a cold summer evening, freshed up teeth with a bifidus bacteria, never known in any science, surely acknowledged sometimes. But all in vain. Conference call rejected, no posting allowed on the group wall.

Brains traumatized by fresh fish smelling, babies in the backseat of better bedding, always arousing flowers in the cement corridor, while la corrida hits the horizon and totems are uprising, like voodoo dolls in a cinnamon loneliness, white lion harrassment options, opt in for coffee, what they think. No entering in the dream millenium, where souls have fought for honour, distance flights, in the zone of the zealous who think it’s time for ghostwriting the dead body bubble. Smell is severe – more life-tech cannot be uprisen through telephone sales. More venom is needed to connect neurons to a minute-maid juice-appartment. Reckless riveting over viking frowning and musk smell. Of the hopeless fanatics of fish oil wedging, on a lonely wedding day, who would have thought so?

Tons have arrived in the tenants territory, speechless organ-opera of comments on cheddar cheese, the nimbus of king nephilim neurotics had been achieved through trickery of a mocked groupie – assembly of orchids in dread rock river-spoons. That reach cloud nine in the millisecond of regained royalty through the ties of the players. Hickup perseverance, vintage lollipops, too old to live in old LP-collections that are being played in loops to entertain a marginalized society.

Frankenstein-figures protect the law of attraction, give birth to that new kind of refrigerator seen on TV by the elderly, all assuming it would work, wishful play of an old opera.


The poltergeist pretzels in the refrigerator room were raising economy for expediate expression above the roots of decembers that were gone in grief unwanted but real. A thousand immigrant petals opened their head in an absured movement of trust. Tears were doubled in the descending sun, the mailbox remained silent for no reason, thought she and took it out. The troops arrived in the early morning without announcement. They made an unbelievable noise and school was out, having an obsolete breakfast in chlorophorm blue. The temper was raised above the heads of silence, neverending nightmare exposed, chill of winter, ready to be used, robbery named desire, bitter to expediant and radiant apocalypse. Born in august, timetables inevitably ivory and restless friend, manicure and frankly, there was no better than france, withheld in the verge of the opponent’s disaster. He was calm, soothing secretly, a handful of mercy, ticket to sepia imagery, sugarcoated and warm. Weatherforecast in a tupperware, heavens in the indigenous people’s hands, always pleasing, pouring the juice, levitating their luck.

Thousands were the reckless, imperfections in trousers that could not be opened, but in comparison to coldhearted salamanders. The bolt was ready. Flowers in rainy environment, outgrew the insult of their cashmere numismatics, knitted on a lonely day, ready without trial, no medicine could restore the rice in its field of fruitfulness. The witness started to speak, slowly. The true trickery showed up on the carpet, giving names, telling the opposite. They were spinning the threat, for the thread has been gone long time since the dice was placed. Unintended her lips, bubbling up bechamel sauce, as if it was peace, it was none. Ceremony opening. King stood on his stool, remembering nothing but the golden bullet that he internationally used for ions of tears, marbles for the children, nemesis in a slot, stickers, publicity, gadgets and more. Death opened its abyss, everybody was leaving to this unknown sphere. Violent their voices, telling nothing but lies. For how long have they been climbing? For black and white forbidden, for nothing made clear, like a pregnancy test? They were reassured by science, so they kept on without permission to catch a cold.

Ten thousand knights compelled the spelling of the deserts, in the aftermath of troops and tentations, the occult triggered in a symbiosis of winter flowers. The room perfume lies in a corner, important enough, fine tuning of an opera long finished. The last golden boy has arrived, there’s no successor. How will that be. Werewolfs calling the moon, eating up the remnants of a rocky herd.

The refrigerated suncream has been long missing, the elephant butter in the throat of an animal complement. Potatoes in witty gardens, moonlight memories, colossal chorus.they have been Uttering unbelievably loud what their hearts need, the chimney sweep in that ready to go position, the fears untouched, resin density, coaxial compliments, nothing needed in neverland.

The cream spilled out her softness, not to be compared with water. It was another density.

It was flowing like waterfalls, spoiler tank unveiled. Chemistry Open, wimbledon of physicists. Dreadful encounter with any given phone number, pegasus an old flag, tearing, ripping.

Old ladies and gents, we are arriving in desert zones. Fasten your seatbelts, enjoy the short coffee break, we ran out of beans. Your wounds may never be repaired. Shock Area, give us your name, and address. We will not be able to take complaints into consideration. Personal is missing, due to another corona outbreak in the highlands. Please enjoy the evening with our special Guest, Shortie Short Proposal, and his wonderful companion Hottie Hot Pants.

Are you in need of a new haircut? Our stylists are attending the ride. Please consider that tickets must be paid in anticipation. No need for hurrying, no need to cram through the security exits, we have all the time in the world. Nobody is being left behind, nobody. Dogs not allowed on the surface. Hare krishnas please this side up to the elevator for 2nd floor. Please shower before entering the gallery. Stick your Hats on your heads, turmoil is ahead. No ripped up Jeans permitted. Take no more soap than needed.

Published by petra s. steiner

I like nature and design, birds and bees! Luckily I don't have this all in my room, Or I would go crazy, possibly you too. But don't worry, my madness is not contagious. Unlike some other Things that happen on this planet right now, if you know what I mean. when considering that all could be so different..!!! I make lots of graphic and artists' stuff and this is a small portion of all my stuff. I hope you leave this page as an "uplifted person". Theres enough negative stuff around every day. This is supposed to be a comfort zone. Hope you find some valuable content. Don't hesitate to order something finished or some new design if you found something meaningful for you. There can be adjustments all along. Petra. S. Steiner

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