Time is Running Out
You waited too long.
Too damn long.
Clocks shatter and broken glass shimmers.
Autumn has ended and the barren winter has given birth,
To decay and putrid fragrances.
Your grave lay ready,
It smiles at you.
It is an excavation of earth and stone,
An expedition into entropy.
Patience you said,
The right moment.
Excuses.
Lay down.
Let me pour the earth over you,
So that you can taste it.
Presenting the new logo for my YouTube based series Anthropology or Less! Looking for Episode 3 this weekend.
After the Solstice
Fallow fields glimmer in frost
Stars on the earth
The gods of the short day let the sun peak
Should short days always be so sorrowful?
Certainly not
In the glimmer a thousand tiny suns speak
They are breathing
They are alive
They, like stars, promise endless wishes
I cannot count them
First new piece of artwork and poetry for 2017!
Enjoy!
penetration By,
choices, changes and the cyclical regurgitation of the will to comply
algorithms and stereotypes
false hopes in finger swipes
the problem?
i am bOund by perception
i am wanting new direction
i am dissatisfied with my lot
but silent? ha! i am not.
i am vociferous
i am malicious
i am calculating
i am aggravating
i am Devastating
too many “i’s”
constantly Heaving heavy sighs
it’s time to consider my own demise
call it what it is
all of it
insanity
but there is a way out.
It’s right here
Happy New Year! Here is an old piece of mine of poetry and art that has never been posted. Enjoy!
Quick Trip to the City
Foreign passages, passengers, passing through time
In Transcending worlds and crossing boundaries,
Thoughts shimmer and shift,
Shading sumptuous sidetracks,
Blocking narrow corridors,
Ultimately illuminating that singular road
That we all seek.
But in the end,
Though we set out for a quick trip to the city,
We find ourselves wanting and wasting,
Watching and withering.
The grass is never greener but only grows grayer
When we finally realize,
We are already home.
Two Years Ago I finished my Masters Program and a Documentary Film Called Unbound The Story of the Romero Theater Troupe. It is a film about a social justice theater that I worked with based in Denver Colorado. The film combines some concepts in Anthropology and a short analysis of what is wrong with our media system in general as well as ways people are resisting these systems.
I have decided to make this this film free and available to the public via YouTube.
If you would like to purchase a copy of the film you can buy a DVD or digital copy at http://www.wholecultureconsultants.com/unboundfilm
Back around
Drum beats like heart beats
Pulsing, dancing, full of life
Round the rhythm
Round the circle
Round the cycle
All life is orbit
Colors fling in all directions
Like bright stars flickering in the night
Making no excuse for falling feathers
Like fallen comrades
Let the night illuminate
All things end
But all things circle back around
The drumming never stops
I am shadow
See me?
Of course you don’t.
You don’t want to.
You want to ignore me, to suppress me, to gag me
And to hide my little atrocities.
But I am dark,
Blacker then black.
Not even the brightest of stars can hold me back,
Forever.
Even my spoilt wings are made from the corpses of dead Ravens
Their blood my medicine
On them I feed.
Seek me out in the darkest of places.
You will find Wisdom there,
But not for the faint of heart.
Merge with it,
Let the deepest dark seep into your soul as plastic melts over smoldering ash.
Let it shape you,
Mold you,
Feed you.
Accept it and then,
Burn it down.
Smash it to pieces.
Let the blood drip from my lips,
And like water, quench your thirst.
Let me show you dark,
So you can understand light.
To taste the sweet nectar is to be undone
The fire is burning now, the path begun
Spin your web and secure your place
But know, nothing is secure after that first taste
My bones feel empty.
Where has all the marrow gone?
Have they been broken?
Split by the storms and harvests?
Did all the juice drip and run?
Swept away by the passing of seasons
By the Tidal forces that make so certain,
That nothing is left untouched?
Is there anything left?
Look.
See.
Crack it open.
Taste.
It is bitter.
It is rotten.
But there is so much left.
Loridian's Laboratory 