Going to use this thread continously when I post more stuff. I don't claim to be master. But I am a student of the arts. I write, I draw, I doodle, I paint, I play music. The mind of the artists, the eyes of a scientist, the heart of a philosophers. All criticism, or acknowledgments are welcome, either way I'm just happy you took the time to read this. Reflections I often searched for answers, I often asked questions, Young I sat and thought, The Moon still rose, The Sun still set, Life still passed me by. Old, I often sat and thought, The Moon still rose, The sun still set, Gray hairs began to Symbolize trophies of My journey. Only then did I realize, that the passage of life gave memories , gave breath, all of my questions, answered. Years stand for lessons, which I still enroll upon, the school of purpose. I still often search for answers, I still often ask questions, yet The Moon still rises, The Sun still sets. -KR How Does It Feel? Being nothing but a spec, Across a vast field. Vastness that you can't comprehend, so vast you lose your breath, which will never catch up. How does it feel? Being so lost, Having no chance of Being found. Break your back, Lose your witts. How does it feel? Being all alone on the ground. -KR Untitled Its like I'm stuck in Rewind, Trying to plunge forward Only to relay backwards, But In these steps backwards I have tread far more Forward than hoped for, What is this breath of new? Are the strings of My mind being re-knitted? Rekindling a flame of my deepest subconscious, my soul. -KR Untitled We mask our masturbation, All our scornful thoughts, Locking away our lust Under lock an key, Hiding true feelings, In Public we claim one thing, Yet privately we disown, Claiming another, social chameleons, I am through with hiding, I want to lust, I want to fuck, I want to drink, I want to dream, I simply want to live, No more under ball an chain, I open my closet, Invite you in, Come lay with my skeletons, Let us rejoice By sucking the nectar of life, Taking which is ours, happiness, Fulfilling our self declared prophecies, pursuing dreams, Take off our masks, Which only hide our traits That set us free. -KR
New piece. Cucumber Asparagus (Improv) Right on the tip of my tongue, slipping, Leaking all that just Pours, pouring constantly In a stream of Thought, No pauses, no breaks Just complete pouring Of the mind, It all feels exotic, The lawless The freeness, Cucumber Asparagus, Wishy washy Bleakness at dawn Pushing my personal boundaries, Inner temples of my Mind, some other Being of the mind? Avant garde is dead, All we have now is Chaos and rawness, No lines Thoughtless, Improv. -KR