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Friday, October 5, 2012

TORIAN: The Scars...

The First Of Many Scars (Intro)
The way in which we start things isn’t as important to me as how they are ended
My years as a violinist taught me that easily enough. Sometimes the pieces you play begin on sour notes only to end beautifully.

But sometimes it varies based on the situations. I have been there and back again. Thus is the lot of the quiet violinist.

Yeah, that’s my name.

I am sure there have been stories before, stories of evil men being made and ones where a monster was finally seen to be a man. . Yet this tale has common threads.

This is about scars.

More to the point, this is a story about my scars. And if you truly know about scars you know the pains that usually come with making them.

Do you want to see mine?

OK. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Here is the first…

Saturday, September 29, 2012

The story of a drunken violinist...

The best thing about writing your own characters is that it gives you a rare opportunity to create life, even if it's purely fictional.

I've done that many times over...

But when I do it I try to write perfectly flawed characters that you have strong feelings about, whether they are good or whether they are of the negative persuasion.

For example...

I created a curvy temptress who goes from selfish, self-absorbed bitch and, through her own struggles and triumphs, becomes a good woman and a good mother. This pales in comparison... writing a conflicted villain who is evil by circumstances, only to be revealed as an avenging hero at the very end of his life. It surprised me thoroughly when the few people who've read the whole story name a villain as their favorite character.

Yet the oddest character to be liked by the a drunken violinist.

<-- strong="strong">This drunken violinist...

...a guy I named Torian Kennedy.

He's basically this brilliant
and quiet tortured artist who has something of a drinking problem and is blunt to the point of being a complete asshole. For my return to my blog, I'll be talking about him for a while.

I hope you can bear with me as I do...

Saturday, July 16, 2011

Black Scion Poetic [2]

This is my way of saying...yeah, I still write epics.

"As I look back on all that's happened..growing up, growing together, changing you, changing me -- there were times when we dreamed together, when we laughed and cried together. As I look back on those days, I realize how much I truly miss you and how much I truly love you. The past may be gone forever..and whatever the future holds, our todays make the memories of tomorrow. So, my lifetime friend, it is with all my heart that I send you my love, hoping that you'll always carry my smile with you, for all we have meant to each other and for whatever the future may hold."

Verse One
A foolish first time kiss
The type of encounter you remember
It was the end of a solo
Some sort of sonnet called December
Caught a stare
Beyond the compare
That simple way we ignore eyes
As if milky whites
With no sights
Unalike the wonders that surround
Your social network got all looks
Parts of me were impressed
Over your blasé
About her sashay
Betting you beat your drummer
Probably deftly, probably slummer

I get your interactions constant
Conversations playing almost falling
No one was attempting clumsy steps
In slow motion, tumbling, stalling
Around the way cutie
Threatening to be beauty
Quiet loving for the fear
Lit liquid into lingered danger
Tides and tempting, no stranger
So began an ease
Into innocent young encounters
A shoulder covered in extending
For a second, a flutter
Pretexts melt as butter
By the architect end, a design
Finding myself calling you mine

I think when I called you mine
You gave the entire world divine
The perfect light
Every night
And the days I called you mine

Repeat once

Friday, July 15, 2011

Black Scion Poetic [1]

This is my way of saying...yeah, I still write epics.

For a moment of caustic seconds
We glared across the abyss
And we saw this
Another notorious figure
Mirrored into motions upon opposites
Of ships passing in the night

Verse One
They’re fearful fuckers
Clock suckers
Two so timeless, always
Those Lauper nasty boys
Time after time
Into sweetest repetitions
A rendition of the ego
Wherever I go
He go, she go
Down for the count
She's licked over and over
Cumming up short
In your scarecrow sensibilities
"Daddy's home..."
That's her fearful symmetry
Sharing the goods with both
In hopes of feeling hole again
But you don't
I won't kowtow to your fright there
A nightmare syndrome
Boogeyman logic
I'll taste like the tonic
Liquid courage
You forage more
One question, Goldie...
Who's this porridge for?


Verse Two
We’re ugly honesty
Something honors me
Bowed like the arrow might
See the reflection?
I can’t William or tell
Everything about it is legend
The chanciest encounter
When clout stirs
Down all doubters
No one blinks a bit
Because no fear is the motto
It rested in the eyes of devils
A modern violence
It’s a whisper
Super sweet ultraviolet
Beaming on the other twisted vine
Kudzu in killer seasons
Yet no choking
Breaking the fourth wall barrier
A real night terror
Shadows shifty
The afraid are thrifty
Cheap thoughts abound
Only cards to be pulled
Tell me, little piggy…
Are you afraid of bad wolves?


Monday, April 4, 2011

Of Babylon

My inspiration comes from everywhere. One of my favorite inpirations will always be the Bible. To give you a little backstory for the newest piece I've written I want to tell you all about a notable character in the Bilbe, the Babylonian king Nebuchadnezzar II.

Nebuchadnezzar II (‎English pronunciation: /nɛbəkədˈnɛzər/ Arabic: نِبُوخَذنِصَّر c 634 – 562 BC) was king of the Neo-Babylonian Empire, who reigned c. 605 BC – 562 BC. According to the Bible, he conquered Judah and Jerusalem, and sent the Jews into exile. He is credited with the construction of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and the destruction of the First Temple. He is featured in the Book of Daniel and is also mentioned in several other books of the Bible. The Akkadian name, Nabû-kudurri-uṣur, means "Oh god Nabu, preserve/defend my firstborn son". Nabu is the Babylonian deity of wisdom, and son of the god Marduk. In an inscription, Nebuchadnezzar styles himself as Nabu's “beloved” and “favourite”.

The name is often mistakenly interpreted as "O Nabu, defend my kudurru", in which sense a kudurru is an inscribed stone deed of property. However, when contained in a ruler's title, kudurru approximates to "firstborn son" or "oldest son".[5] The Hebrew form is נְבוּכַדְנֶצַּר (Nəḇūḵaḏneṣṣaror Nevuchadnetsar), but is also found as נְבוּכַדְנֶאצַּר and נְבוּכַדְרֶאצַּר (Nəḇuḵaḏreṣṣar). The Greek form was Ναβουχοδονόσωρ (Naboukhodonósôr). He is also known as Bakhat Nasar, which means "winner of the fate", or literally, "fate winner".

Nebuchadnezzar is most widely known through his portrayal in the Bible, especially the Book of Daniel as נְבוּכַדְנֶאצַּר. The Bible discusses events of his reign and in addition his conquest of Jerusalem.

The second chapter of Daniel relates an account attributed to the second year of his reign, in which Nebuchadnezzar dreams of a huge image made of various materials (gold, silver, bronze, iron and clay). The prophet Daniel tells him God's interpretation, that it stands for the rise and fall of world powers, starting with Nebuchadnezzar's own as the golden head.

In Daniel chapter 3, Nebuchadnezzar erects a large idol made of gold for worship during a public ceremony on the plain of Dura. When three Jews, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah (respectively renamed Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego by their captors, to facilitate their assimilation into Babylonian culture), refuse to take part, he has them cast into a fiery furnace. They are protected by what Nebuchadnezzar describes as "the son of God" (Daniel 3:25) and emerge unscathed without even the smell of smoke.

Daniel chapter 4 contains an account of another of Nebuchadnezzar's dreams, this time of an immense tree, which Daniel interprets that Nebuchadnezzar will go insane for seven years because of his pride.

While boasting over his achievements, Nebuchadnezzar is humbled by God. The king loses his sanity and lives in the wild like an animal for seven years. After this, his sanity and position are restored and he praises and honors God. There has been some speculation on what the organic cause of this insanity might have been. Some consider it to be an attack of clinical lycanthropy or alternatively porphyria, or an advanced case ofsyphilis.

Some scholars think that Nebuchadnezzar's portrayal by Daniel is a mixture of traditions about Nebuchadnezzar — he was indeed the one who conquered Jerusalem — and about Nabonidus (Nabuna'id). For example, Nabonidus was the natural, or paternal father of Belshazzar, and the seven years of insanity could be related to Nabonidus' sojourn in Tayma in the desert. Fragments from the Dead Sea Scrolls, written from 150 BC to 70 AD state that it was Nabonidus (N-b-n-y) who was smitten by God with a fever for seven years of his reign while his son Belshazzar was regent.

The Book of Jeremiah contains a prophecy about the arising of a "destroyer of nations", commonly regarded as a reference to Nebuchadnezzar (Jer. 4:7), as well as an account of Nebuchadnezzar's siege of Jerusalem and looting and destruction of the temple (Jer. 52).

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Equally opposite (Excerpts)-II

Loose Rubbers
Verse One Almost nervous and nearly near enough
Stripper shaking with a
Pocket full of loose rubbers
Fingers fiddle
A one noted sort of nigga
You know the type, right?
We see them with binoculars
Seeking out high notes into climax
Frequenting the lower tones
Hoping for the night to find them
Deep in the depths in some pleasure
Wanting her even when she scoffs words
Leaving the presence back to the pasts
No again and again
It was then but living now
Always love like an old rendition
Played slow, sweet but just memory
Made of body kisses long gone
No love made, no fucking strokes
You are the former inspiration
The words repeated without hearing
Until tears fallen are a rainstorm
But it’s shaken, brother
That’s the move, man?
Emotions are irrelevance
Simple trifles except for you
A lost gold in a silver society
Even if it hurts to admit it
Hitched up smiles, false faces figures
Another might enjoy pocketfuls
Of loose rubbers

Chorus Pocket full of horses
Of course it’s little more than a game
Don’t want your name
Please be thinking the same
All I want is you to understand
What will happen with the loose rubbers in my hands

Repeat once

Verse Two Downing drinks to settle nerves a bit
Uneasy with that
Pocket full of loose rubbers
Hands palm
Ones read in hopes sooth say differently
But it won’t, will it?
All the cognacs and mixed concoctions
Promise no passion, pain, or pleasure
May end up alone in the low lights
Five knuckles shuffling sticky
Instead of deep in the depths of warm pockets
Tight and moist enough for interest piqued
Still it seems presumptuous to ponder
Positions and contortions so earnestly
Lest you slip the objects of affectionate lust
A little mouse beforehand and before hands touch
A mickey to the bottom, got them
Only if you were that brave
So it’s just a dream to think on
Try to ply them with the wit and innuendo
All too blatant to be missed
No interest and no regards
Dying hopes two humidors puff on your cigar
So what’s next, friend?
All or nothing statements
You trying to fuck? Affronted but no subtlety
Slaps ensue and lonely islands grow
But no shame in it, you tried the best
Laughing it off, called them bitches for the troubles
Almost closing time, let’s get rid of
All these loose rubbers

Chorus 2xs

Verse Three Last call was the shouted announcement
What to do with this
Pocket full of loose rubbers
Look at her spread
Hoping quietly she spreads like peanut butter
She’s down, right?
Maybe that’s why the fingers caress
Places in the open and under the table
Like hush money dollars
Maybe I can make one holler out
Names, expletives, speaking in fabled tongues
Seems willing to a victim
Drained like vamps and bloodsuckers
So he just wants to fuck her ragged
It was urgent the way she pulled at the shirt
So now the two are leaving quickly
Crumpled Jacksons lie under a half full glass
Optimisms abound, hands all over ass, squeezing
Back to the bedroom, naked in seconds after sixty
Fumbling into front ones for prophylactics
Impatient mare seeks a stallion, rushes rides
“Fuck me already…”
If you ask me she’s ready, Alicia
So what’s the decision, brother?
Cast aside because he was thirsty
And she was wet so it all worked out
For an hour or two long dong deep down
Scratching pleased tattoos on the upper back
Next morning gone but something lingers
A tingling that says that maybe
You could have used a few loose rubbers


Equally opposite (Excerpts)-I

St. Valentine’s Night (Interlude)

Half dead roses on the window seal
Wilted flowers so close to the day

Had a feeling that would catch your eye
Amazing how well you know me...
(He winks)

(She smiles)
This is for...St.Valentine
The sun sets, the stem drops

Almost without sounds or sights

It doesn't have sound?
Scarcely any…
Hmm.... oh, well

Leaves start to fall
Tumbling drowsy, elegantly
One by one, for every hour she's alone…
Until the pile up, a mess of remnants there

(The Equal Opposites were in rare form tonight. Their performances are always interesting to watch, even to that guy in the back who ponders over taking one of those listening ladies home with him tonight. He reaches in pocket and feels around. Inside he finds change, a few dollars of various denominations, and a few loose rubbers.)