tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8492682077631330222024-02-18T20:07:15.610-08:00DaliGlama::Renaissance Alchemists & Cultural Curators::kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.comBlogger93125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-14430992439058620542012-12-27T14:52:00.002-08:002012-12-27T14:52:56.806-08:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-43929398175597948072012-01-13T10:01:00.000-08:002012-01-13T10:01:54.120-08:00Friday the 13, 1981<br />
<h2 style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-color: rgb(170, 170, 170); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; margin-bottom: 0.6em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0.17em; padding-top: 0.5em; width: auto;">
<span style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 19px;">According to Wikipedia, the day of my birth was filled with murders and despair the end of a showdown and the beginning of a missing child search. While Friday the 13 would bring about the first ever speedcubbing - rubix cube champ Jury Froschl. this makes me feel good about today, like I could beat someone at scrabble or chess. </span></span></h2>
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<span style="font-family: sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 19px;"><br /></span></span></div>
<h2 style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-color: rgb(170, 170, 170); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 0.6em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0.17em; padding-top: 0.5em; width: auto;">
<span class="mw-headline" id="March_12.2C_1981_.28Thursday.29"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/March_12" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; color: #0b0080;" title="March 12">March 12</a>, 1981 (Thursday)</span></h2>
<ul style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; list-style-image: url(data:image/png; list-style-type: square; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.3em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<li style="margin-bottom: 0.1em;">Women, children and other inhabitants of the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/El_Salvador" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="El Salvador">El Salvador</a> village of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ahuachap%C3%A1n" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Ahuachapán">El Junquillo</a> (in the <a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morazan_Department" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Morazan Department">Morazan Department</a>) were murdered on orders of Salvadoran Army Captain Carlos Medina Garay, at the conclusion of nine-day long military operation against rebellious forces. The details of the massacre were brought out in an investigation more than a decade later by the "Commission on Truth", which had been created as part of a 1992 peace agreement.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-27" style="line-height: 1em;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/March_1981#cite_note-27" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">[28]</a></sup></li>
<li style="margin-bottom: 0.1em;"><a class="mw-redirect" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Atlanta_murders_of_1979-1981" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Atlanta murders of 1979-1981">Atlanta murders of 1979-1981</a>: Timothy Hill, 13, disappeared in Atlanta, ten days after his 15 year old friend Joseph Bell had vanished. Hill's body would be found on March 30, and Bell's on April 19. They would prove to be the last of 23 African-American children (16 or younger) to be murdered in Atlanta over a nearly two year period. <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wayne_Williams" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Wayne Williams">Wayne Williams</a>, who was suspected in the killings, was charged with and convicted of the murders of two adult victims.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-28" style="line-height: 1em;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/March_1981#cite_note-28" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">[29]</a></sup></li>
</ul>
<h2 style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; border-bottom-color: rgb(170, 170, 170); border-bottom-style: solid; border-bottom-width: 1px; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 19px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 19px; margin-bottom: 0.6em; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; overflow-x: hidden; overflow-y: hidden; padding-bottom: 0.17em; padding-top: 0.5em; width: auto;">
<span class="editsection" style="float: right; font-size: 13px; margin-left: 5px;">[<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?title=March_1981&action=edit&section=13" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Edit section: March 13, 1981 (Friday)">edit</a>]</span><span class="mw-headline" id="March_13.2C_1981_.28Friday.29"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/March_13" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="March 13">March 13</a>, 1981 (Friday)</span></h2>
<ul style="background-color: white; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px; list-style-image: url(data:image/png; list-style-type: square; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 1.6em; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0.3em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">
<li style="margin-bottom: 0.1em;">The first world <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Speedcubing" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Speedcubing">speedcubing</a> championship tournament, requiring participants to properly align the squares of a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rubik%27s_Cube" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Rubik's Cube">Rubik's Cube</a> in the shortest amount of time, took place in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Munich" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none;" title="Munich">Munich</a>. Jury Fröschl won the first competition with a time of 38 seconds.<sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-29" style="line-height: 1em;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/March_1981#cite_note-29" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: initial; background-image: none; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">[30]</a></sup></li>
</ul>kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-29985346656928068792011-10-31T15:25:00.000-07:002011-10-31T15:33:31.122-07:00Again and again and again.....hipstirr suprastarzThe Fox and the hound, wolf Mama ladybird, the butcher and a tiny spider vampire. Cutting Clouds with swords and poking a hole straight to the sky. When
she said that girl could do whatever she wanted, boy was she right. The
Antithesis of the halloweekend drove us into a warm cozy cave with stews and brews and song dust in our eyes. Ladybird has
always welcomed the strays, gays and silly douchery into her house in
hopes of brewing up a pack of ferocious warriors. What is all this? What is
it really.....you ask. I am merely a flesh conduit typitty type type
typing away. This all sounds vague because it is.....what? And then I count my
days slowly, again fast forward flash and there again they are, the whole lot of
them family, lovers, kings and queens. Every era is the same and man and cat never
change. Only those rare heavy coated creatures who soar above the mist can scratch
the newness and re-write the stars. Blah, blech, down into the hole you go silly words. Disguised tongues, serpented split pea soup. For Eva young babbling from the womb about how beautifully formed your hands were in the last life and NOW, now what? These creatures are no man I know, no flesh
I've smelled or tasted, no eyes I've stared into. They move in shadows and transform the aurovisio. The fallen heavy light. On this earth I am full of dirt and
sorrow, if only for brief sparks in time to imagine beautiful crystalline memories in the ocean,
across the sky and feel every bit of the crushing. The pieces are forming and the house is getting
stronger. The arrows pointing in all directions, yours pointing at yourself. Sheathed in warm woolly wombs. The conscious ooze has arrived, has been arriving for
centuries will keep drooling like lava off the side of a volcano. I am going to safely say that in my lifetime we will see the
likes of angels only a few have been able to conjure. What then.....when the angels
cum? Will it all be set again, to shatter and mourn, to capture in words to spell out a song? Of course it will. Pass me the porridge ladybird, this little spider is hungry. I cast a light into the world and find you wide eyed goggled hero and open. I still hear you over fermented rice water and nautical delights. My lighthouse is yours, when your path turns right. I am wish, swish rattle and roll, cause the harbor lights are calling.<br />
<br />
Listen:<br />
HARBOR LIGHTS by <ELVIS><br />
<a href="http://harbor%20lights%20by%20elvis/">http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UhWO8jhq5Jc </a><br />
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<br />kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-39335294730480954442011-10-26T14:33:00.000-07:002011-10-26T14:33:50.202-07:00SCORPIO MOON BE STILL IN LOVEI am living a small utopia, nuzzled in between two amazing friends who have adopted me and taken my spirit in like a broken bird. The house is bright with sunshine and there are two beautiful cats living here, protecting my dreams. Soon there will be a third feline companion who will complete the circle. My heart swells to think how therapeutic these small animals have been for me in their simplicity and stillness. I long for solitude amongst them and I thank the spirits who brought me to this place. Today we prepared the altar, a way for people to feel invited into our small piece of wonderland. Today is beautiful with its greyness and mild sunrays and so I eat them consume their warmth in preparation. Tonight will be full of honesty and grace, violence and purification. My moon bath celestial sacrifice goes out to YOU. You are all in my heart, I wish you happiness my dear slaves. Alone we move mountains together we birth the universe. For the moment ground yourself in song and tell me what you feel, think, smell, want to see, hear or speak. Be heart guts and blood for me......I will deliver you from the sins of dishonesty and loneliness. Ah-men.<br />
<br />
Listen to some of my favorite friends:<br />
<a href="http://les%20bicyclettes%20blanches/">Les Bicyclettes Blanches</a><br />
<a href="http://teta%20mona/">Teta Mona</a><br />
<a href="http://les%20sphinxx/">Les Sphinxx</a><br />
<a href="http://juggernut/">http://www.juggernut.net/</a><br />
<a href="http://ish%20marquez/">Ish Marquez</a>kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-2099093145524202472011-10-11T15:24:00.000-07:002011-10-11T15:24:55.060-07:00Spiritum SanctumLa naturalez es un movimiento quieto y arduo. El mar sereno y activo. La noche en tinieblas persuiguiendo la luna hacia el amanecer. Y en la luz del sol encontramos el calor sanguíneo. Llenos de vida en el silencio eterno. Llenos de amor y muerte lo perderemos todo y naceremos de nuevo. Con ojos de ave y sangre de grado sanaremos la aurora rayada, sanaremos la tierra ya destruida. Por que el corazon clama sin entender, pero veo que ese llanto nos une. Y en las voces escondidas encontrare la verdad. Espiritos Santos Espiritus Santus Spiritum Sanctum.kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-54214946597918842152011-09-29T17:36:00.000-07:002011-09-29T17:36:50.007-07:00Fishing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK5r5nwyaDWEwgvRmwjszp_OWt8Znm8P-t3XXGKjrfG55piyJyTumyzW-DBrKHBcnq0X0LoAZsnDLmoKwqR-0E-csqOIFu2_8wEGruslzaUj_JozJukSRf5EGPiGRP2eAvZss_LTOM69E/s1600/Kgif.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK5r5nwyaDWEwgvRmwjszp_OWt8Znm8P-t3XXGKjrfG55piyJyTumyzW-DBrKHBcnq0X0LoAZsnDLmoKwqR-0E-csqOIFu2_8wEGruslzaUj_JozJukSRf5EGPiGRP2eAvZss_LTOM69E/s1600/Kgif.gif" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiK5r5nwyaDWEwgvRmwjszp_OWt8Znm8P-t3XXGKjrfG55piyJyTumyzW-DBrKHBcnq0X0LoAZsnDLmoKwqR-0E-csqOIFu2_8wEGruslzaUj_JozJukSRf5EGPiGRP2eAvZss_LTOM69E/"><br /></a>kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-65278045027718737142011-09-29T17:24:00.000-07:002011-09-29T17:24:49.340-07:00Today
is first
Today
is first
one time story
with a fever
I roam into the ether
rock into my lover's arms
The map is all confused...again
money is all we lose...again
taking what we choose...again
one time
story of the grand mind
holy holy once find
water to myself...again
control it all abuse....again
If misery you choose then baby.....guess...again
guess...
guess again......guess
my fortune is set
maybe, my glory formed
how the eyes shine and grow
Today
is first
We are all cold and crying
dead and alive we fly in
We are all left denying
TodayToday To day.... (2x)
We are all gold
We are alien waves
to sleep it in is ok
kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-14495437440008140712011-09-21T16:19:00.000-07:002011-09-28T11:04:49.284-07:00all made up<br />
<br />
all made up<br />
its hanging tirelessly like the smoke in your hair<br />
those circulars around your eyes<br />
pearled chomps, venomous teardrops<br />
siren foaming at the mouth<br />
<br />
I spit and it is all blood and bile I hear<br />
<br />
what to take when the voices all harmonize to your ramblings?<br />
<br />
I would eat all of your potatoes, gorge myself with your bowl of sustenance<br />
were you to take my dear black hat away from me.<br />
my wavering fingers draw a heart's scar that fill your emptiness<br />
<br />
I spit and it is still dragon's blood I smell<br />
<br />
but a spotlight in your chest<br />
envious youth<br />
push and pull on my dress<br />
<br />
take hold young mistress, masters come in disguise as your motherly breasts<br />
<br />
the two that sit in darkness know better, feel better bruise as easy as the apple<br />
<br />
from the snake oh Eve you are not<br />
from the lake, Lady you are not.<br />
<br />
Hunger wolf, horny female<br />
snarled darling sea cow<br />
enough is enough but enough when you're dead<br />
<br />
<br />
You will look for your head soon enough, inside my mirrored eyekchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-22232782431935504292011-09-19T15:24:00.000-07:002011-09-19T15:50:06.276-07:00death of a flower<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/v1pJdBoG7BU" width="420"></iframe>
<br />
the death of a flower is a path<br />
crushed underfoot<br />
leaves and grass<br />
dryness<br />
and crushing still packed fresh snow<br />
<br />
I suppose the death of a flower would illumine,<br />
outlast the darker anguish of living so close without its bloom.<br />
<br />
Shaking leaves<br />
and running waters<br />
scorched earth<br />
scarlet crimson<br />
cross<br />
<br />
will within<br />
when the poet walks amidst the fields of flower's dust<br />
the death of a flower is a path to trace and wonder all at once<br />
what gold gods we may become in slumber<br />
what golden mermaids lie beneath the lust<br />
<br />
So broken as to hide away from the light<br />
so broken as to fall into a depth<br />
to mine the word for shattered flowers<br />
at once rebuild in tiny pieces what was fallen whole from the sky<br />
<br />
Quick and dead are all that rest beyond pearled gates<br />
behind the cross of choice we choose to follow<br />
the tinman's grace without beet muscle<br />
metal machines speaking in code<br />
<br />
(I hide, I choke, I run)<br />
<br />
I follow the tail of one too many mystic comets<br />
imagining in them the sun<br />
<br />
God's do welcome me in with gold dust wings<br />
I am bonded strength<br />
enraptured light<br />
forgotten traces of your wildness<br />
delight<br />
delight in the flower<br />
it will be erased<br />
it will be devoured<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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<br />kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-67721644861669843332011-09-08T15:51:00.000-07:002011-09-12T11:06:47.086-07:00My Sounds<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: x-large;"><b style="color: black;"><a href="http://gluuuu.tumblr.com/">Gluuuu</a></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Courier New",Courier,monospace; font-size: x-large;"><b style="color: black;"> </b></span><img border="0" height="375" id=":current_picnik_image" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq72zVWlm5IDRsNaAHqHlQflXlULFI0eZYRbo0ar2ZfRRFVmWc97zEpprFf9K1lrgiABTjW1swF212oF0v59XDAaqqMprZ8ckxEAwGa4umyCSRM8ItAIBAdAoQg0KyJzqzw5oVGWic1k0/s640/Untitled.png" width="640" /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQMmysziOQWoYH2zBeGurldj2ppq5B-AwmXlbbpUyzTi2BJt8JBKZ8EMx7d5vn1yjFu6T3qIfqGyvgrALgDOwDCBQFQz4EiFLvLKPCXLQDHllD-z6-FcaqB730Ge4ig3OLKF6jian4Jk/s1600/Untitled.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="374" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaQMmysziOQWoYH2zBeGurldj2ppq5B-AwmXlbbpUyzTi2BJt8JBKZ8EMx7d5vn1yjFu6T3qIfqGyvgrALgDOwDCBQFQz4EiFLvLKPCXLQDHllD-z6-FcaqB730Ge4ig3OLKF6jian4Jk/s640/Untitled.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-44864387120813231302011-08-29T15:42:00.000-07:002011-08-29T15:42:48.142-07:00Holy Gone Monster<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Everyone is seeing up above and beyond </div>
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seer's dreaming up all the visions.</div>
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Not one ounce of pure sight is left.</div>
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All real estate taken upstream</div>
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by the flesh saturating west</div>
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from an eastern shore I can see people<br />
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but spreading over across the wilds of our barren country's heart lies the way to anima</div>
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engrave it on your lover's palm</div>
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a love whispered prayer</div>
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no snarky remarks that injure or condem</div>
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love to no avail</div>
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keep your blackened bird smothered under breath</div>
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sole mutterings till your death begins again </div>
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but this beautiful bird only visible to wonderkind</div>
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lovely creatures in their own rite</div>
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spring forward to offer her life</div>
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they are her saviors</div>
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I dreamed of leaves torn to shreds<br />
and paper children flowered in the wind<br />
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I dreamed I killed a whale, rode its hide to the other side of the ocean to find the tortoise lover</div>
<br />
she was covered in worries, not of her own<br />
but those accumulated from the tide<br />
barnacles clasped to her body<br />
centuries ago she learned to fly and through the water she found more of her wonderkind<br />
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lovers and friends</div>
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new family myths beginning again </div>
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inside of her like embryonic imprints upon her womb</div>
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a matrix child, mother in making spirits light </div>
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only when her dark horse arrived to take her home would she rejoice </div>
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for tired and worn were her soles<br />
<br /></div>
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this empress knight, fighting her way home through all bodies </div>
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running upstream </div>
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No valley could contain the sounds of glass she made underfoot<br />
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her fingerprints washed off her hands </div>
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<br /></div>
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<i>she belonged to no country, she belonged to no man. </i></div>
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<br />kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-50822683060687832102011-08-29T00:33:00.000-07:002011-08-29T00:33:15.762-07:00New think speakThere say luck would have me one day.<br />
Just the day I chose to meet luck out in this wide open world, would the world swallow me a hole?<br />
I make sure to care for my breath and visit you quite regularly underneath it<br />
<br />
the words blanketed by the sounds underground, underwater.<br />
Dripping down like honey combed wine from fair lips.<br />
You've got hip appeal and flags that bring down ships to a quiet still.<br />
<br />
<br />
and still as if to divine and to unravel so much more time is left when you are mine<br />
unraveled thin<br />
like crosshaired love wires<br />
I'm shore<br />
you wave<br />
and so one softened kiss is moore<br />
than a thousand stiff kisses<br />
lets chance again<br />
I miss you and the good lord tht holds your hand<br />
its auburn wonderful<br />
each and every strand<br />
you take care of every one of us girls the best you can<br />
how i miss you so<br />
how i must let go<br />
how i miss you so<br />
how i must let gokchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-22324051906882801922011-08-25T15:41:00.000-07:002011-08-26T12:00:00.413-07:00En Rapture<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Cottage Cheese, a banana, two coffees with skim milk, walked to work in the faint rain. </span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">It is instant, you run into the building covered in blessed stone, tall and pointing towards the sky. A place where you have devoted all your faith, your beliefs locked away in a small incensed boxed tucked underneath the dusted altar. But first, the fire sky opened and the rains came down again as hard as they had ever been, you were frozen again and your tears came down again when your look above you held the exact precision of the holy building. You ran there first because the town was small and your flashing lights were bright, tracing a path directly into the church, gold bricked and paved to safety. From harms hasty way the ground shook and bodies were propelled forward, heads pointed horizontally erect. This was the rapture covered in lace and you were still on earth covered in dirt as the souls lifted from the ground, whose legs you desperately embraced in gasps. You were lost and winded and behind the words that were whispered in your ears from your childhood memories, like the thunder and the rainstorm passing by, they faded into the ghostly wind. Was your lover not in heaven coming back to encapsulate your love in his bottled potion? Positioned with a tincture to revive you from your slumber white snow lovers, whose winter warmth held the earth's balance and fevered the blistering sun in the summer's brightest rain?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">For all year long we waited underneath the fickle trees of lust and their fruit lay rotting barren without seed. Boyhood dreams left unfulfilled were dreams floating in the clouds. How could we recover the sound of the river in our hearts? This rapture wrapped in solid ice caps, unable to breathe but for the cathedral sky, crystalline letting in tidbits of the sun. From its portioned rays grew a deformed vine enraptured entwined round the lines of holiness. Following the light it grew as strong as the the slivers of light would allow it room. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif; font-size: small;">Will you lie dormant under the rubble until the wind comes off to carry you? Earth overbearing mother, soaring eagle to carry me home in a blue box to the sea. </span></div>
kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-2146074715116544582011-07-22T17:45:00.001-07:002011-08-26T11:41:55.582-07:00Violent Waves<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small;">A diver falls deep into the pressure of thought and sense and breath, and he waits. He waits until a point that will almost sever his spine, a point where he is bowed by gravity and falls to its pull for fear of caving and snapping suddenly towards death at the bottom of a silent ocean. The pressure of depth overcomes his courage suddenly and he is without blood. He feathers down to the bottom becoming tiny pieces, fragments of photographs, vector lines. In my dreamthought he can fly and breathe in the waters that consume his heart. but his breath is slow and labored. He breathes in the salt and minerals, the animal fragments, and seashell shards that pierce his lips. Moves change into waves and lead us up on the way down. Of clouds, we are helpless, slapped by the presence of composite goddesses. Is it your desire now to conjure yourself transformed from earth to a crescent waved water god? </span>kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-6877941685173407452011-05-19T11:15:00.000-07:002011-05-19T11:17:57.436-07:00CAMPARI CON SODA<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/xAOHgszCQSU" width="425"></iframe><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">First and foremost I would like to thank the ever adventurous Clifton Hyde, </span><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">whose interest in the finer libations of the world has brought me to my new standby drink: CAMPARI & Soda. Made with quinine, rhubarb, ginseng, orange peels and aromatic herbs, I am happy to say this bittersweet aperitif </span><br />
<div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb7fhvI31_nKSnqrh94NnnL_SiNBnpncgIB4Oll3bjku5u2AyIQkg4xAYWxIXERAcBFLfOJWM-KrFY_s9zsWPVoqLXuTC_cNFPNgYLd6Dwlm3Q08vhus3nGEREl6luwxjaKSkZLnhq9YI/s1600/campari.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb7fhvI31_nKSnqrh94NnnL_SiNBnpncgIB4Oll3bjku5u2AyIQkg4xAYWxIXERAcBFLfOJWM-KrFY_s9zsWPVoqLXuTC_cNFPNgYLd6Dwlm3Q08vhus3nGEREl6luwxjaKSkZLnhq9YI/s640/campari.jpg" width="480" /></a><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">is favored by Italian men awaiting death and now by yours truly. I recently went as far as purchasing three rounds for three friends at a show, quickly converting everyone to the drink. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The slow burn of the herbs and aromatics makes it less likely I will get too drunk too quickly, that said I may indulge in lots more of it because it is so damn interesting in flavor. I savor the moment it hits my palate and indulge in the image of old world Italy, where old men stumble home on their bicycles on cobble stone streets. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I recently found this simple recipe and will have to try it to as an enhancer to the original soda mixture. </span></div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none;"><br />
</div><div style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"><strong><em><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xAOHgszCQSU">We're all going to die, so indulge always.</a></em></strong></span></div><br />
<strong><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Bicicletta</span></strong><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ice cubes</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">2 ounces Campari</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">1-1/2 ounces white wine</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">1/2 ounce club soda</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Lemon slices (optional)</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Fill wine glasses with ice. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Add Campari, wine, and soda. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Stir to mix. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Garnish with lemon slices, if desired.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"></span></span>kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-22861409081229643102011-05-18T17:04:00.000-07:002011-05-18T17:09:53.474-07:00Future Sounds of Love and Magic<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">Two summers ago I began a journey into the world of complete feminine independence. I met a beautifully strong and equally ravaged woman named Teresa Colomonaco. We walked an entire summer holding each other's spirits by the hand, blessing each other's foreheads and playing music for the gods. I cherished that time very much because I was given the opportunity to become a nurturer to my fellow woman and in turn grow stronger in my own feminine magic. The stage was set and when she departed so abruptly, I cried knowing that for the first time in a very long time I had found a sincerely brave soul. One who not only shared my crazy lust for life, love and art, but who could equally wilt like a delicate orchid. Today, I want to share her music as I sometimes do when I feel the nostalgia of the old world pull me in. Teta's sounds are a cry in response to a cruel and devastating world. A past of exploitation in many forms - tribal - family - magic. She is luminiescent and flows over you like a dusted mist. Breathe her in and exhale your wishes because they may just come true.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;">As for myself, I will one day share all the strength and power I have acquired that began with our chance meeting with Teta in person on her home turf, where she is cherished and nurtured by the land and music. </span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://music.tetamona.com/album/magus-thief-of-flowers"><strong><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: "Helvetica Neue", Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Teta Mona</span></strong></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="border-bottom: medium none; border-left: medium none; border-right: medium none; border-top: medium none; clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha84fYPL4HETCYoA6_Rj3RTyo28v1iPxWXyP53H5ChvlhKd22-Cp4-GIvkd14towaNb0LbnqUkd0dgwYaj0Emz9wvyDHimGwkPaAt2rSOIJauq8WoCON-xWHcvVlB7pvHsyR2aitR6GLo/s1600/teta.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha84fYPL4HETCYoA6_Rj3RTyo28v1iPxWXyP53H5ChvlhKd22-Cp4-GIvkd14towaNb0LbnqUkd0dgwYaj0Emz9wvyDHimGwkPaAt2rSOIJauq8WoCON-xWHcvVlB7pvHsyR2aitR6GLo/s1600/teta.jpg" /></a></div>kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-78516099839199981802011-05-08T22:59:00.000-07:002011-05-08T23:11:16.102-07:00"As is Painting, so is Poetry" - HoraceDreams ooze from their pores and into their phallic strokes. I can't shake them, I try and continue to hide but hit head on into them, swallowing those sharp daggers one by one. Slaying myself continuously. But I would just as easy be the sponge they're looking for. A soft gooey fluffiness that lives inside their loins.<br />
<br />
You're the one who paints the world's figure flat and you're the one who writes desperate illusions in your sleep. I am a sacrifice to devour. A loving meal upon your feet. Your features are rugged; creatures who don't give a fuck but feel so much they ache with all sorts of desires. Babies, young and stupid babies. <br />
<br />
In my mutterings: " a minor allowance from these is a form of sorrowful affection." <br />
<br />
It is a bitter aftermath collision that stutters for days. All I can do is eat and drink to plug a void they leave behind in their slimy get away car. It is a phantom void, one that I see walking next to me and not living inside of me. Skin slapping on naked skin type of affection. Supple lips, the inner thigh, a warm beating heart, the sweet of the neck. Who was Jesus Christ without Love?<br />
<br />
<br />
I am hungry. I ate and ate this weekend purely out of anxiety and boredom. When I return to New York I will do the opposite and feel light again. The Burden of walking down crowded streets. I think I want to sink into a bowl of cereal. Someone once loved cereal. I don't remember who. But I care enough to write that I don't care at all about a stranger who I know for a fact is a breakfast cereal whore. <br />
<br />
What is your favorite cereal lover? I myself prefer to fast. Anorexia on me, vomit all over your face. Such a pretty picture of boredom.kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-2874628754619474282011-05-07T05:11:00.000-07:002011-05-07T05:44:40.947-07:00Things I've seen, heard and done in the last couple of weeks<div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><b><a href="http://www.myspace.com/sewnleather">SEWN LEATHER</a></b> @the now defunct Champs Cafe </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">For those folks who forgot that shows/concerts were meant to be the smashing ground for our collective soul. Yes I like dancing and Sewn Leather absolutely conjures the energies of a spinning dervish smashed with the aesthetic of an apocalyptic trash punk. The energy is 100% sensitive to the misery and grime of our time. Please go see him live and let him drag you down, slap you up and win you over with his magic. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><br />
</span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> </span></span><img border="0" height="640" id=":current_picnik_image" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbfSE6sJlSPteBu4Wpb-evG1-XDRB2c1waosIO0lep9DovHpA6YXvQVzw2vN_50VzowgzwwTknwpU8JaQ2__LRd9Ks1IjVyWLdR-WV-BM-lYY0IWdm1IC6devX-qmXnKZ5FVqyZS-nYkE/s640/Sewn+Leather+2.jpg" width="426" /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">More SL </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5wWKqbenZZlfX4kzf9rBB_wYYi0QVUzLFvQcmCdXhUeUsl3A8jv-sAfXU1U9aSg9c8qxBBle-hXJeA73hs_1_BPrvnggn-gZhIcUUYdOFHNY48NAqIUF4djbmA_dMNgELHydUfIlF_fI/s1600/sewn+leather+3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5wWKqbenZZlfX4kzf9rBB_wYYi0QVUzLFvQcmCdXhUeUsl3A8jv-sAfXU1U9aSg9c8qxBBle-hXJeA73hs_1_BPrvnggn-gZhIcUUYdOFHNY48NAqIUF4djbmA_dMNgELHydUfIlF_fI/s640/sewn+leather+3.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Sewn Leather dancing to DJ Ratbeef </span></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeONY-uqatSkroN3yKcPt2Xqda5TTFY_u7TToO8MpmE-pTeJdY_I3ZR3AMqXrkMK9XeL-09XIDoWvO0KH9edpRo-OG6G30tydeIRLthQD0SohHoY4u9LzwboxEvCkjdm3OHJyUNsYF0No/s640/sewn+leather+1.jpg" width="640" /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><b><a href="http://www.myspace.com/shamsnoxqsz"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">SHAMS</span></a></b><span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">@Silent Barn </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">One of my favorite performers, Shams fuses mysterious apathy with genuine shake your ass tracks. If you want to dance he takes care of you, if you want to trance, he does that to. Sometimes he sings like a banshee, but maybe on that rare occasion he might just get baptized on stage with a saxophone in hand. Not to mention, some of the best locks I've seen on a man in a while. </span></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPxa-svb5RoKTUFbL3MGPBIIa8ClwZGS1cN_9JHyupPliEmoe7S18LcZp_PB0fjAwRdjuWiy7fvYUhSGzqtO5dZ8gc9lunjF1fkOlrCX9oburhQAw3MplWg5wLvI5O_OxmGXxwE3-kmQ/s1600/shams_silent+barn3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPxa-svb5RoKTUFbL3MGPBIIa8ClwZGS1cN_9JHyupPliEmoe7S18LcZp_PB0fjAwRdjuWiy7fvYUhSGzqtO5dZ8gc9lunjF1fkOlrCX9oburhQAw3MplWg5wLvI5O_OxmGXxwE3-kmQ/s640/shams_silent+barn3.jpg" width="640" /> </a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"> more Shams</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTcH5TzA-KfhhKiJExwJBrUYYIVHuD6zX1BEbaei2cNTLfaN1jfyBAAyL_F75qhGzb1rQHh1Ht15BQu-a7A_i24ayHNKnu2s1Nj9MErzaX9ve83cjNJzzXZKHU8KNe7WFeVK-sGmaTsIo/s1600/Jonathan+Coward_Shams_Silent+Barn2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTcH5TzA-KfhhKiJExwJBrUYYIVHuD6zX1BEbaei2cNTLfaN1jfyBAAyL_F75qhGzb1rQHh1Ht15BQu-a7A_i24ayHNKnu2s1Nj9MErzaX9ve83cjNJzzXZKHU8KNe7WFeVK-sGmaTsIo/s1600/Jonathan+Coward_Shams_Silent+Barn2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTcH5TzA-KfhhKiJExwJBrUYYIVHuD6zX1BEbaei2cNTLfaN1jfyBAAyL_F75qhGzb1rQHh1Ht15BQu-a7A_i24ayHNKnu2s1Nj9MErzaX9ve83cjNJzzXZKHU8KNe7WFeVK-sGmaTsIo/s640/Jonathan+Coward_Shams_Silent+Barn2.jpg" width="640" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmtTDe48S-p2eKFQUM0P7OjqpOeqVcjZCiYMBI13EFFAhyphenhyphenOQ1y-8-Sww9BchIQg5DXker_2t6SDEfoOrVlFAwR8g03g0UY6hgm0oK5dvaYwj8eo2jPS9GmZg5Dvf3W_KF0PkXuagkhrSE/s1600/Laura+Minor+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My deconstruction of Shams at Silent Barn</span></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnYkKHpBBGlot7-BRP0K-2gdyq8giqlTHvM0LbrQfDS7RIDqNycIgwx_OzS21DrYNcr9mIRVtDxMKN2DnCQMu1MBg8APRNMXEqfmqDPKq8hJJmU3UUQtX6yzWzzip1Z9qhZMWEMbGLn28/s1600/Jonathan+Coward_Shams_Silent+Barn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnYkKHpBBGlot7-BRP0K-2gdyq8giqlTHvM0LbrQfDS7RIDqNycIgwx_OzS21DrYNcr9mIRVtDxMKN2DnCQMu1MBg8APRNMXEqfmqDPKq8hJJmU3UUQtX6yzWzzip1Z9qhZMWEMbGLn28/s640/Jonathan+Coward_Shams_Silent+Barn.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
</span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Below are a couple of my projects, check them, talk about them, and let me know what you think. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Alt Country Singer </span><b style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.myspace.com/lauraminor">Laura Minor & The Talented Jail Birds</a></b></span><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlMGP2-RDLR2IU99EZFhi94-0PgRJhGq-BbJE2pB-E0Q6U3GOU55vgrMltXLxk0p4qLLZfTc155omdG-9PZqjoW8C4Y_K6A8MypZFj6mymUB4yJOdC07-MBaluiq6-ngr-kmeGWIqPDI/s1600/Laura+Minor+-+Living+Room+2011+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlMGP2-RDLR2IU99EZFhi94-0PgRJhGq-BbJE2pB-E0Q6U3GOU55vgrMltXLxk0p4qLLZfTc155omdG-9PZqjoW8C4Y_K6A8MypZFj6mymUB4yJOdC07-MBaluiq6-ngr-kmeGWIqPDI/s640/Laura+Minor+-+Living+Room+2011+%25281%2529.jpg" width="426" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My arsenal for Laura Minor. My official title is texturizer. I'd like to think of all my trinkets as different gradients of emotion that I use to fill certain songs. A melodica for a French revival tune, the viola for the swamps. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vI0kR2D_ZIrv27pwPjgVBa9_EA1fnzxS066DDuy8j6uJHCWPOqMqid7yTGFj8ricuhmf4OtH6XX0XlzFERWfUkzpb7a_7DJQljE0kdbI4EUjUoLLUVL8r3UA7_NwY2sRdFzKXKg6wAA/s1600/Laura+Minor+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vI0kR2D_ZIrv27pwPjgVBa9_EA1fnzxS066DDuy8j6uJHCWPOqMqid7yTGFj8ricuhmf4OtH6XX0XlzFERWfUkzpb7a_7DJQljE0kdbI4EUjUoLLUVL8r3UA7_NwY2sRdFzKXKg6wAA/s640/Laura+Minor+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Helped style the girls of <a href="http://www.myspace.com/supercute">Supercute</a> for their latest video shoot. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirH2JGI6m9nMGy3TAHmadqxvcNc6vNsDkvuu0d-SDkacWdBj8xZqHKTvHvemEEm8Byb721B7FaCuEDE9hhSfwalKtqfFiLMFyWEz3yjcAThC615flQ2lRIW6Po6d5axpb4pFrcnnyOVok/s640/supercute+video+shoot.jpg" width="640" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvaAJqXP7fr3VMKBurBuHNPCk2D4ZspoJcfOoIdYir49AqJoVZWnBB9F2V_U2uUurDENOFKA00NfYF2YUHoCdBAOtplezdHKVmHdwkj0nqeMmiXVCl4VE3JTcmfFHe1HQ0x7PWSCCUEYY/s1600/supercute+video+shoot+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">teehee</span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRSW1bwoCEnT9UHGtwKYI7YKZcv0DOOsYa0dwtRqA86dCRyZBvZI_twBrco2WYwlL24tnBJqR4eDYpYCJ1-gi0lynnfdI82qOvdxr8qNrJqlYpl0IkXX38naL2rBhciKmqMAYk7OiTPI/s1600/supercute+video+shoot+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRSW1bwoCEnT9UHGtwKYI7YKZcv0DOOsYa0dwtRqA86dCRyZBvZI_twBrco2WYwlL24tnBJqR4eDYpYCJ1-gi0lynnfdI82qOvdxr8qNrJqlYpl0IkXX38naL2rBhciKmqMAYk7OiTPI/s640/supercute+video+shoot+2.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">Rehearsing with <a href="http://www.myspace.com/juggernutnyc/music"><b>Juggernut </b></a>- I rip up roses over the setlist to set the mood. I also perform as a human sperm, while trying not to become the performance art whore. Safety first as they say in AA. </span></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOYhWaHgGJ2zKHC0Qh2Ou_9lQOnvfG_bZ1oxhUvBdHMUyEj3ozxYGvITJAunJ62JL3nhNV59c3_wGsGGAu7np2CTFxlZ9qeIi1Q2p09SDbo9ywnfo4Oae_X5zutZOKLOIL2WYBRaTQoI/s1600/juggernut_rehearsal.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilOYhWaHgGJ2zKHC0Qh2Ou_9lQOnvfG_bZ1oxhUvBdHMUyEj3ozxYGvITJAunJ62JL3nhNV59c3_wGsGGAu7np2CTFxlZ9qeIi1Q2p09SDbo9ywnfo4Oae_X5zutZOKLOIL2WYBRaTQoI/s640/juggernut_rehearsal.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynokmq1CZuBYInOA9vl5n-CYxMLfW8PR-MI0LApp-PfV0ZnQYDlGQ2MFaEMpc5kInOM8GagXKZeoU_DoJ_-AdkPms4DDfhfS7yov0Uk9CX6DrJQQYhaE-fFHgERqQEE7N2DDcmYJv0t8/s1600/juggernut_setlist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjynokmq1CZuBYInOA9vl5n-CYxMLfW8PR-MI0LApp-PfV0ZnQYDlGQ2MFaEMpc5kInOM8GagXKZeoU_DoJ_-AdkPms4DDfhfS7yov0Uk9CX6DrJQQYhaE-fFHgERqQEE7N2DDcmYJv0t8/s640/juggernut_setlist.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">FIN</span></b></i></div><br />
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</a></div>kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-86891929611766151702011-05-02T16:23:00.000-07:002011-05-02T21:38:58.491-07:00: MASCA : GHOST : TRAIF : UNCLEAN<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"><iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/75WFTHpOw8Y" width="425"></iframe></span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Those things we are not supposed to eat. The unclean meat, the sacrilegious skeletons of a poor jumbo shrimp. I love the untouchable. The dirty, the vulgar, the foul. Like my friend Sam says, "if you can't stand my musk then I guess we are not compatible {animals}." Very simple, very clear. Complexity, I need to drop that word for a while. It gets me into more trouble than is worth handling in my tiny body. How about a slip and slide. A good meal. Interesting conversation. Lace leggings and no bra. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Too much television did not hypnotise us, convert us into zombies, flatten our eyeballs. It opened our brains and taught us to process many tiny things at once to create the illusion of one singular big idea. Pixels vs picture. strands versus coif. Little lines on a map, none too important as to make them the ultimate WAY. But all flowing into some way. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">A wig fits nicely on top of a clown's head. Bare feet may get you a broken toe. Not flossing is not essential to the cause. Having too much fun is always acceptable. Not calling your mom is typical and not very nice. Years and years and years will go by and you will still be friends. All of you, trust me. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">If you can't make it to the BBQ you should dance at the poetry club and make new friends. One big orgy we are all afraid to attend. Don't yell at me, don't touch me, don't look at me.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">Then why all the makeup? Why all the adornments, why all the smiles and laughing noise. Mix medicine signals and you will end up with a soggy sandwich. One person always left unsatisfied, unfulfilled, ignored. On the other end is the suffering darkeness. A fevered siren waiting to devour your insecurity. Blah, Blah, Blah. Girls can be so damn Katty. Blech! </span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">Aah, I'm not interested in fighting anything except this impending fever I smell in the back of my throat. Too much alcohol, too much too much and still never enough. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">On my way home I will buy a book that will unlock a song that is stuck in my head on repeat. May also buy some more masks. Maybe not tonight, the cold is looming inside and I must hurry home and fight it with a warm blanket, my uke and some campari and soda. The drink old Italian men have while they are waiting to die. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">Repeat after me: (these are probably the lyrics to three different songs) ugh. words.</span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">I am fighting for YOUR life</span><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"><i>less words, more moves, less give a fuck. </i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"><i>who will heal the healers</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"><i>from the shards?</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"><i>broken knees</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"><i>broken backs</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">slip-on vomit thong</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">thorny thorny</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">horny teens</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">slide, slide, slide</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">bump splash slide</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: #999999; font-size: large;">slide, slide, slide</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">bump, splash slide</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;"><i>who will heal the healers</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">from the morning light?</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #999999; font-family: Arial; font-size: large;">Who will heal the healers?</span></i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-75315695309666552412011-04-29T15:52:00.000-07:002011-05-01T11:47:50.892-07:00Pray for your mother <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Today</span></b><br />
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<span style="color: magenta; font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b><a href="http://www.livevideo.com/video/3F2CFAD8DA924ACA8C741B0474C410B4/the-bat-the-rat-and-the-spide.aspx">The Bat The Rat & The Spider</a></b></span><br />
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</div><div style="border: medium none;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">As she has always had you in her prayers. Even though her superstitions perturb you, there are moments throughout your day where everything inside you rattles. It jolts and shivers. Could this be her prayer shooting life into me, waking me up out of death into a living dream? She loves to hear your voice. Although sometimes the burden of listening weighs heavy on you it is nice to hear her talk incessantly about a puppy she met on the street or how annoyed she is with her mother who calls her everyday. This makes you smile. To see yourself in the past as a grown woman and imagine that future of an old soul you are becoming. When old souls return to a present they are playful, vulgar, disrespectful, misunderstood and possibly a little dusty. </span></div><span style="font-size: large;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">A rat turned bat a combination of terrestrial and celestial. Ocean Skies. Cloud Islands. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif; font-size: large;">By the way where did the spider go?</span><br />
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</div>kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-7972248940082702582011-04-26T07:10:00.000-07:002011-04-26T07:10:20.922-07:00Juggernut plays C-Squat this Friday, April 29<span id="goog_808675491"></span><span id="goog_808675492"></span>Juggernut with all of its fury and tidal destruction will be playing this Friday at C-Squat's <a href="http://www.facebook.com/#%21/event.php?eid=109176412501890">Gay Spring Fling</a>. Come and enjoy the show Bitches!!! <br />
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<br />
C-Squat <br />
155 Avenue C & 9th Street<br />
11:30 pm <br />
$5 donationkchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-66944365260490732882011-04-22T10:31:00.000-07:002011-04-22T14:14:42.740-07:00of sleepI did not sleep last night. but I did enjoy a nice cuban cigar and a shot of caribean intoxication. The aperitif incuded two beautiful dancers, a fox and a hound ramblin away the night and stealing my heart on the dancefloor. <br />
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A kiss to you two beautiful beasts. Then there are darker more sinister eyes that caught me for a moment and strongly held their grip until they themselves were blinded by my light. The darkness walked away compassionately as it always does, leaving me to myself and to my dancing. I waited to hear from two different Caribbean princes...of Miami and Cuba combined. Oh the force of the ocean to mold the shapes of man's hearts. These men who drive me to unbridled madness for single nights, who enthrall me with their grip, take care of me and hold me until the dawn.<br />
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But these are only Princes.....not fit for a queen. <br />
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One day I will find the King of Swords who will slice my heart into tiny pieces and dust it over the oceans. He will die for me and lift me across the sky. His arms will be made of copper and his feet of burnt terracotta. Clothed in wolf hide, smelling of sweet cut grass. <br />
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I'm bleeding all over today, I'm tired all over again today, and tonight I will celebrate a birth. To hell with sleep. I'd rather kiss the blissful moon longing for rest rather than sleep away my youth. <br />
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Good night sunshine the summer moon howls over you!kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-4402899136749102552011-04-15T16:41:00.000-07:002011-04-15T16:42:34.484-07:00Meditations on the KissA devoted spirit once kissed me and I ran away, I left him on an island in tears. I was searching for another kiss. This one this time from the betrayer who is still burning buried in his shadowed existence. I hope he moves to Antwerp very soon and marries someone who will take his shit for treasures. Because for all my showers of gold on his darkend skull, he still betrayed me with his oozing salival bath. This will always bring me sadness. And right now it is an echo of sadness, but sadness still.<br />
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I don't look to intimidate you with a kiss. In fact if you end up in my bed, there is no way I will let you touch my lips until you admit that you are trapped. Vulnerable in my web. Soft and gentle. Go to sleep. Then I will kiss you on your forehead little bear. I am now your mother, too much like her and not enough unlike. Shit, it happens again and again and again. <br />
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My mother was beautiful and cunning and trapped my father. But she forgot her beauty through the years, never taught me her mysteries and instead replaced it with a scornful temeprament that aged her twofold. He was a cheater a liar, simply the best human he could possibly be. A stalker, a charlatan, a charitable soul to everyone except his own. <br />
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A kiss from him felt like the earth, dirty and destroyed. A kiss from her - I'm not sure I remember. These days she kisses like a child. my brother is cold my sister is tired. In fact a familial kiss is the only ritual we are all embarrased to admit. <br />
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Tonight I will attempt a kiss with a poem, the poet's soul. Imagine longing and push out from my lips a subtle devotion to the spirit that inhabits the creation. <br />
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<strong><span style="color: red; font-size: large;">Come to <span style="color: magenta;"><a href="http://www.hichristina.com/calendar.html">HiChristina</a> </span>tonight @10pm 5-min lectures plus me doing a Kissing meditation. </span></strong>kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-57186244412241394842011-04-14T11:08:00.000-07:002011-04-14T11:08:55.642-07:00Payday Meditations IToday I decided that I must save money in order to supplement the resources to make things happen for myself. I never have a plan and this in itself has been the bane of my existence. <br />
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<i>Is this adulthood?</i><br />
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A heightened awareness of the power of money, organization and a planner?<br />
Yes. <br />
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My mother has never been the best planner but she did teach me to save any little bit of cash for a rainy day scenario. These days I wish to travel back home as a first priority and visit my new baby niece, my brother who seems to have returned from the catatonic lands of the east that tend to consume those who play with fire at an early age. My grandparents who sit patiently awaiting my arrival, like royalty waiting for their prodigal princess to return. <br />
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The joy, the joy of knowing that there is a group whom you belong to exclusively and forever more. A lineage a heritage a link that is unbreakable. Unbearable is the love for family. Difficult and strange, overbearing and smothering. The fish swims away from this affection, only to swim tirelessly with teary eyes wide and open consuming in an almost frozen gaze. Where is the love that wants to stay? (as my friend Laura Minor sweetly sings) We are beasts ravaging each other, following, hunting, longing, then mourning the loss of our conduits for exstatic pleasure and catalysts for extreme pain. <br />
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<i>I take things too hard, he said. Yea, its my style, I whispered. I stare icy in trance, making sure not to waver and look his way. I'm on a tightrope leaning dangerously on false notions of love from the past while finally realizing today that he is simply a hollow. A bloodless vessel with no roots. There never was anymore he could give and in that moment of truthful surrender, I finally felt the faintest pulse of waves. Waves of affection pouring from his hands like honey on my skin engulfing my spirit. Soft and gentle, fragile heartbeats. But it was too late. I was a statue, adored and hated in that moment of affection. I quickly recovered my senses and got up from his couch, walked away from him and did not look back. My eyes did not focus on any one thing except the door. He rushed after me and stopped me, turned me around and asked for a hug and a kiss. Don't take things so hard, he repeated once again.</i><br />
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Click on the word beast below to listen to this beautiful song<br />
<a href="http://www.lauraminor.com/media.html">Beast by Laura Minor<br />
</a>kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-849268207763133022.post-86116982334615582462011-04-08T00:41:00.000-07:002011-04-08T00:41:42.907-07:00VidensomniaBefore bed I say to myself, there are too many humans on this world to love and hate and ignore. Let me try and watch them all....one by one by one. <br />
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<iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/28601" width="400" height="267" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/28601">Beck "Bit Variations in B Flat"</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/wyldfile">wyldfile</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br />
<iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/10272556" width="400" height="302" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/10272556">Obits "Pine On"</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/subpop">Sub Pop Records</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br />
<iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/14489692" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/14489692">FREAK OWLS "optimistic automatic"</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/maximebruneel">maxime bruneel</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p><br />
The reason to move to San Francisco <iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/21963515?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0&color=ffffff" width="400" height="225" frameborder="0"></iframe><p><a href="http://vimeo.com/21963515">[live tv] #027 Pt.2-2 - Thee Oh Sees - Contraption</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/rarara">RaRaRa</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com">Vimeo</a>.</p>and also <a href="http://mycastro.com/restaurant/hot-cookie">Hot Cookie"></a><br />
<br />
<iframe title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/8bdeizHM9OU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>kchordhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00004472606090036564noreply@blogger.com0