Updates: Part 2

Hello again everyone!

I wanted to update on our site here!

Sketchykids.com our custom domain is back!! We are going to be better than ever, centering on our cable access show. We are also enabled for e-commerce so artists will be able to sell their work on our site which will help us bring more value to our creators.

Going forward we will be creating major updates to the site structure to reflect these changes. We’re staying quiet over the summer to focus on recruiting, post-production on Sketchy Kids are Live season 2, and pre-production on Sketchy Kids are Live season 3. Until then we’ll be trickling out content but Fall will have a lot of action!

We are always looking for more artists to join and get their work promoted with us!

Peace and Love!

Updates: Part 2

Updates!

Hello web-space!

We are revamping a few things here at Sketchy Kids. One of the biggest announcements is that we will be shifting many of our efforts to instagram @sketchykids. Yes we are updating with the times and hope to stay relevant to our audience!

One tough choice we recently made was to allow our domain to lapse. We are now found at thesketchykids.wordpress.com. We may renew SketchyKids.com at a date TBA, however the investment was not worth it for our artist community at this time.

We are actively looking for new artists to join our network for free promotion on our new instagram account, facebook page, youtube and cable access show!

We’ll be showing you more very soon!

Updates!

Now Accepting Submissions

Our independent television show is entering pre-production of season two and we are accepting artists to promote. We display your work in a positive light! Our mission is to support artists, not criticize. Head over to our submission page or email us at thesketchykids@gmail.com

 

Thanks!

Now Accepting Submissions

Poem by Lyonrah

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.

Poem by Lyonrah

Poems by Lyonrah

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.

Poems by Lyonrah

Poems by Lyonrah

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.

Poems by Lyonrah