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theirieone
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Name: Ritchel
Birthday: 11/5/1977
Gender: Male
Interests: Museums, Art Galleries, Poetry, Cafes, Beaches, Reading, Painting, Drawing, Guitar, Walking, Photography.
Expertise: Motion Graphics Design, Web Design, Graphic Design, Creative Direction.
Occupation: Artist
Industry: Art
Message: message meEmail: email me
Website: visit my website
AIM:  theirieone
Yahoo:  irie976
Member Since:
6/3/2003
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| i exist...
to think
to breathe
in harmony
not with society
but with the everlasting
truth of the mind's eye.
i exist...
i forsee
i decree
that i am only me.
but one
son of the sun
god
allah
jehovah
buddah
jesus
no matter the witness
i exist...
to be
heard.
my voice
a constant mosiac
of experiences
life trials
roads, routes & pathways
all leading me
to the existence
of my senses.
senseless wandering
mindless wondering
asking myself
the basic truth
of why?
when its really
all about
how.
how will i exist?
how will i be heard?
like momentary monotones?
or a symphony of saxophones?
or even a
series of moans and groans?
but will i?
i will
will myself
to exist in a journey
to return
what i have learned
to the youth
so they may rise
higher than the shining star
which i see as me
existing
breathing
as one
in harmony
with destiny
with words
with liberty
i exist...
to be heard. | | |
| stepping to this microphone
to recite words, my own
sewn, down, deep
drowning, screaming
my freedom
my kingdom my children,
born as slaves,
invisible chains,
borderless boundaries,
unearthing false dreams
of material necessities,
a tragedy to the masses. big businesses buying
independent dreams
another means to filter
the intake of individuality because what they want
is for you to see
only what they show you. refilling the life water
filtered to your brain
from the box of reality shows
that show no reality
but what's been approved
by a committee of neckties. we have been born sold,
brainwashed since birth,
captive cows, mooing at liberty,
when reality knows
we have no freedom
but in the confines
of our own minds. mental muscles left diluted
instead of expanded,
library cards trashed for tivo,
jam packed freeways
all rushing home for what?
jerry springer's sex in the city special or laguna beach's real oc? to know
that knowledge is power
is to know
that we are all weak
because big brother
controls what we intake
and why would they
empower us to rise
when we are but slaves,
captive cows, mooing at liberty
as they reach a consensus
to censor the senseless.
background music: Common's "The Light"
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| i arise to this unfolding day
somehow refreshed and anew
yet wondering what path
i am still yet to walk
for this next unscripted verse. in the epic play of life
with a plot still so unclear,
i am constantly humbled
by the tremendous mountains
that have been set before me. i am the sun in this reality
and my breath is the wind,
within the iris of my eye
is a gateway to dreams
long been buried inside
the darkest corners
of my enigmatic mind. i hunger for freedom
and at times i am consumed
by the urges of my desire
to break myself free
from the invisible bonds
that chain me to this destiny. i approach the oncoming stanza
with my hopes grasped firmly
in the center of my soul,
while each hour that passes
slowly chips away at my dreams. o to live, to dream, to be free -
in the halls of my own kingdom,
where the earth is my castle,
the ocean is my gate,
and the woods are my riches,
living together for the goodness
of simply being that which we are. release me, and let me go forth -
to conquer the next act in this play,
to sing from the depths of my soul,
to ride the winds of impulse,
to quench the hungers of my heart,
and suck dry, the marrow of life. let me live this new day
as i have never done before,
embracing each trial that unfolds,
walking with no chains on my feet
with a heart as vast as the ocean
and a mind as clear as the sky. o to live, to dream, to be free -
sculpting the next chapter
with each coming experience.
release me, let me go forth -
and walk this tiresome path
of this next unscripted verse. background music by Herbie Hancock & Wayne Shorter.
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| How a programmer decides what to do with his dull love life...
.to love a programmer.
Sub WhichLife(wandering, wondering)
dim Life
Life = Request("NewLife")
Select Life
case "wandering"
Life = "a nomad existence where love is nonexistant"
case "wondering"
Life = "walking yourself in circles until something falls into your lap"
if Life = "wondering" then
NewLife = "you are at least likely to find love"
else
NewLife = "you will be wondering forever"
else if Life = "wandering" then
NewLife = "you will always be but a restless breeze"
else
NewLife = "you will wandering forever"
End if
End if
End Select
End Sub
Call WhichLife(StaySingle, Unplug) | | |
| .anchor to my soul.
yet again i reach this point,
where i search for something
seemingly so impossible to find.
the companionship which surpasses
meager infatuation and self-indulgence,
providing an anchor to my soul
and a bursting flame from my heart.
i keep myself true each day
not wanting to taint the gift
of my love to the woman
who will truly deserve it,
but so hard is it to stay
on the righteous path,
when constantly i am surrounded
by temptation to throw truth
out the window and taste
the richness of forbidden fruit.
i am smoldered on this path
of hope and determination,
so that one day i may
bind myself to the anchor
in which i seek to complete me.
where is the common ground?
does it even exist?
or am i destined to repeat
defeat at each attempt to
find what it is that i seek? | | |
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