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Happy New Year even though its a little late!
This next year the Sketchy Kids are working even harder for our artists. We’re going to have more episodes of our original show and full length reviews and commentary.
If you’d like to join, head over to our submission page!
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Peace and Love!
I’m a simple man
scared terribly
by the ascendance I feel
through & all about me.
In the echoing crescendo
herald by the buds
of the stretching spring tree,
in the reply from the
scuttling squirrel
gathering acorns, pausing,
looking through me,
in the eyes of another
who holds mine in momentary matrimony,
rather then the usual,
a demonstration a performance,
an assertion of ones own dominance.
Sometimes it becomes so shockingly clear
that it can’t but cause
a stirring disturbance in me.
A need for coming back,
a need for returning from that place
whispered of in our dreams.
I huddle inside my shelter,
a gift so long condemned
as the original sin,
and do as instructed
by the ego within.
Today’s study, a study of the invisible.
Oh children of the universe
Listening intently
Gaze focused out into space
Solemn no longer;
We replace the age old
With today.
Oh you angel
Living in harmony with your being,
No longer will I try to place at your feet that which will never reach, but now is the time, too unshackle ourselves and aspire to the heights offered by the gift of being man and woman.
To actualize that which our eyes and mind have know for so long inside, hark the call my siblings, hark and sing, even if it is hard to believe, for me it is the same, but relish in the name of names which stands a loft for our purpose to shape this into that, the visible a resource to achieve the greatest height, a monument to the invisible which comes down into our world through the bridges we so construct. So build and build, till in one stroke we bridge the gap and in ecstasy stand before the awesomeness possible from a life thus thrust into the torrent that is living amongst shackled minds.
A friend warned me once,
told me to steer clear
that all it gives is pain,
but that’s not how I see it,
the hue can change.
It would be a lie
to say it didn’t feel like I was wilted and dry,
sitting alone wounded, exhausted, spent,
cursing the sun lit contagion.
But to me,
a youngster with his head
full of yellow and orange dreams,
the colors tend to whisper breathlessly,
shift and shimmer
from translucent to opaque,
sometimes coming
as a glossy sheen.
Now though it seems
to be
not the color of dark mystery
but the soft light edge of a dawn,
where it stands above a spread
of complimentaries.
Out of sight, a memory lingering,
a fire light I saw for the first time
when I couldn’t distinguish
between dreams and reality.
By Peter
wave function rolls
over tongue
say it
say it
it again
thoughts like
french kiss
ear lick
mind meld
right thought (check)
right speech (check)
lights
camera
(right) action
communication out
of focus
a monkey teaching a dolphin
to climb a tree
both agree that
oranges are oranges
peel means skin
skin does not mean peel
you can skin a banana
but you can’t peel a cat
you can tuna fish
can the piano
it’s out of tune
false positives
doubly negated negatives
placebos work
if you let them
everything is a matter
of percentages
90% of the time
from vegas to wall street
but I live in kansas
off-broadway is still broadway
paris is still paris
and still burning
I make a claim
then stake it
I have no idea what
that expression means
none of the words I invented
are in the dictionary
I shout them
from rooftops
on cold nights
words are just a song
I don’t know the melody
translate english into
english into english
and the original
meaning is lost
if it had one to begin with
this corn maze means
something but
is too big
for me make it
out alive
I need the bees
to dance my way out
I recite my lines
stage directions say
to exit left
I do
the curtain closes
no one applauds
