A FRYING-PAN FOR TULIPS

I didn't know what to do with these images.
I have no clue as to what they say.
There is little reasoning behind the shapes, text, colours or era.
The choice, aligned to kingdoms, has on this morning, decayed.

FOREVER IN PURSUIT
OF CONTEXT-UAL ROOTS,
A RIGHT OF OUR OWN
AND A SENSE OF THE TRUTH

TAKE LEAD FROM LINGUISTICS
– SUCH CURTAILED FORM OF SEEING
THROUGH THE NATURE AND THE PROBLEMS
I'M BLIND IN ABSURDITY
LIKE INVISIBLE TETHER ATTACHED, VIBRATING LETTERS
CAPTURED BY THE QUICK TONGUE
MY MOTHER'S ONLY WISDOM.

WHAT A FANTASTIC DEATH SHE HAD.
STRUCK BY ELECTRICAL WHIP DETAINING ERRORS OF SYNTAX.

I'M A DOORKNOB
I'M A CAMEL
I'M A TEXTUAL RECOLLECTION.
JUST A WORD
ENAMORED 'YOU'
AS A SUM FOR CALCULATING
HELP EQUATE
AND TO RULE
THE CIRCUIT-BOARDS
TO LIGHT US ALL.