"A great artist is always before his time or behind it."
-George Edward Moore

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Monster

Author's Note: Monsters were created to depict a fault that humans tend to have. I created a person that just mooches off of society expecting to receive everything that others do but without any work. Now a days these seem tot be the surplus of the populace.


There was a place where time had still not been born, and those that did exist went about each other in peace with their harmonious ways of living, everyone was doing their part to build a better world. In that place a mother had brought life to two infants, Destinatus and Hirudinea. These two brothers  brought light into the world of Armiger, their father, for two males would surely come along with the process of evolving what they have built so far.  As they grew into men and they wiser the brothers became each of them started to develop their own thinking process. Though they were twins and were very similar in appearance, the pair started to think as opposites. Destinatus only wanted the best for their town and everyday the city folk grew fonder of him. His brother, on the other hand, started to grow lazy and felt no need to participate in anything that was going on around him. Hirudinea did have intelligence, but he does not use a drop of it and it goes to waste. Even though Destinatus was doing all of his deeds on good will, the simple fact that Hirudinea did not feel the need to be active within the community and decided to mooch off of the other's hard earned work made him furious.
Everyday after harvesting with the family each member would bring their piece home; veal, fresh greens and succulent fruits. The meal would be prepared by the talented in culinary arts and the others would discuss and laugh about the residence. Once all has been prepared to its absolute perfection all were called down to finally consume their hard days work. Then Hirudinea would crawl out of his hole and sit near the edge and also have some of the feast. All noticed, but no one did say anything.
After there was not even a single piece left, Hirudinea would sneak back into where he always was, leaving the other's to also clean his mess. When the cleaning was done the family decided to have a chat with each other about their little problem. Some argued that he should be left out, to fend for himself. Inculpatus, a close cousin, shouted to leave him be for he has done nothing to harm others. A side of the family erupted in agreement. It was own twin though was the one to come up with exactly what they were  going to do to fix him and rid of the problem he was causing.
Inculpatus was to offer Hirudinea to join him on the way to the river for a day of fishing. As predicted Hirundinea declined. Inculpatus proceeded to tell him that if he was not to go that the Gods would not punish him but the river by poisoning it, affecting the whole town's supply of that source of food. Hirundinea laughed in his face and proceeded to roll over on his cot for a mid-morning nap. Inculpatus goes on to do his daily business catching the wealth of the river. When the sun decided to come back down for the day he returns to prepare that nights feast. Destinatus decided to cook that evening and the meal was rather pleasant. What he told everyone that was present while the preparation, though, is that some of the fish had gone bad so he did not recommend that they take any. In reality he had taken three of the five fish and poisoned it. The two that were not poisoned were the smaller, less mature fish. When Hirundinea came out he only expected the best and took the juiciest veal and the biggest fish. As he went on that night complaining about how they do not try hard enough to feed him, and that he was the jewel to the family, the fish on the table slowly started to disappear into his mouth and down inside of him. Then, we he had enough he left his mess and went off.
As night settled Hirundinea's stomach started to twist and turn. Slowly the pain increased until it became unbearable and he cried out to the others. No one heard him. He fell to the floor withering, yelping for someone to aid him. Feeling obligated to come help Inculpatus arrived with a hot towel and placed it on his forehead. Hirundinea spat at him, telling him that he wasn't doing a good enough job and that this was atrocious. Destinatus had enough with the foul treatment came in and told Hirundinea where he stood in this house hold and that no longer would they support someone that never supported them.

Thursday, May 19, 2011

Hope

Author's note: I wrote this piece after thinking of those that have been affected by the natural disasters that have fallen upon many. 


Him and her
They and them
You and I
Together as one

No longer is solely existing a pain
Nor are we still creatures of repetition
 
Being alone;
Does not always mean
Being on your own

There are others;
Us

A whole

United
 

Wednesday, May 11, 2011

King Midas

Author's note: This is a response to the Greek myth of King Midas. Enjoy.

How society came to be today is not, by any means, a new kind of era. The greed that lingers behind all who seek power and the jealousy that dwells within all of us is something all of humanity has had to face . They are labeled now as the seven deadly sins, marked by our religions as an unforgivable kind of evil. Centuries ago, in multiple cultures these traits also existed and were thought of as atrocious beings. They were not classified with religion, though, for the Greeks never had an established belief. Their morals came to life in fantastical stories about heroes and monsters. Sometimes there are those stories that  do not incorporate just mythical creatures, but use people, like us, with everyday problems that become more than controllable.
Thinking of kings the first thoughts that occur are wealth and power. Most are satisfied with what they have, which is no little thing either. None the less, there are kings who can never be content with what is provided. Reasons being insecurity or trauma brought upon them, but all aside; happiness is just not achievable. King Midas, the king of Phrygia and the son of a poor countryman, was selected by the people who were in need of a leader.  Originally the man was loving and kind, slowly progressing in to the greedy person he became to be.
A man stumbled upon him, which he tended to, and was then granted one wish. Greed consuming his mind, he chose his words quite unwisely, "everything I touch will turn to gold." Thus, he began tapping and dancing around objects, all of them shifting into gold. As dinner started to approach he, without thinking, placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder. As loving as the gesture can be there was his gift, if that can even be called so, that turned her into gold.
As the idea of power takes over all of us, we turn to the point of insanity. Wanting more and more, never mentally establishing a limit. The break that we reach can be mild or life altering. Midas learned that his obsession with wealth turned his one other love into a frozen reminder of what kind of monster he became, driven by this need of more.

Monday, April 25, 2011

Your Fictions Become History

Author's note: I wrote this a while back, during the field trip, and never really liked how it came out. During the break, though, I looked at it some more and thought that I could revise it a bit to make it sound better. I liked this outcome a lot more than the other, so I decided to post it.


Thoughts rush

Soothing feeling
Yet so electrifying

The pencil twitching
The pace of words flowing
 Too swift for the hand to obey

Shattered reflections
Start to recollect
Creations coming together
As one

Friday, April 8, 2011

Poema Paralelo


Author's note: This is a parallel poem to Campo by Antonio Machado. I tried to copy how his lines sounded and somewhat relate them to what he was talking about, which was the country side during the night.
 
El sol se esta echando,
Escondido del la luna.

En la distancia sus rayos todavía tocan,
Las últimas flores en el otoño.

Asi también, esas pocas
Están dejando ir sus pétalos preciosos

¡Las ojas roja, verde y rosa..
Cayendo, una por una!

Cada pétalo es otra lágrima,
Bañado en el amor mas puro.


Original poem!

 La tarde está muriendo
como un hogar humilde que se apaga.

Allá, sobre los montes,
quedan algunas brasas.

Y ese árbol roto en el camino blanco
hace llorar de lástima.

¡Dos ramas en el tronco herido, y una
hoja marchita y negra en cada rama!

¿Lloras?... Entre los álamos de oro,
lejos, la sombra del amor te aguarda.

Friday, March 18, 2011

El Castillo de Sueños

Author's note: This was first my stream of consciousness, which began as ramblings thrown into a paragraph, but Mr. Johnson helped me clean and freshen it up. This also represents one of my own healing processes I went through last year.

As each step prolongs,
and my heavy feet stomp,
to the top I go,
my faithful expedition.

Each stair is a memory,
each memory a weakness.
This castle tests me.
My limits, and my hope.

The more I travel onward,
the more this place strips of me.
First all the physical, for no
protection is sought here.

Clothes turn to cinder,
but I do not blink.
I do not pause my breathing.
A soldier in battle is what I am.

Only that this
Battle is for my sanity.
Mental walls come crashing
landing in the seething waters below.

For these spiraling steps
start to extend, as if never to finish.
With the coils of transportation
come whirs of thoughts.

People, faces, beings, places.
All of my past. Each cold foot-fall
sends freezing pain up through,
but the wind calms it.

The wind.
The breath of a loved one.
Calming the nerves.

Up I go. Still climbing.
Reaching this castle.

My personal dungeon.

My lovely escape.