You are currently browsing the category archive for the ‘Black Unicorn’ category.


Spider web moon lit night

Spider web moon lit night

Kinetictra – Backstory Beginnings

“Kinetic energy is an expression of the fact that a moving object can do work on anything it hits; it quantifies the amount of work the object could do as a result of its motion. The total mechanical energy of an object is the sum of its kinetic energy and potential energy. The total energy of an isolated system is subject to the conservation of energy principle.

Kinetic energy is the energy of motion. An object that has motion – whether it is vertical or horizontal motion – has kinetic energy. There are many forms of kinetic energy – vibrational (the energy due to vibrational motion), rotational (the energy due to rotational motion), and translational (the energy due to motion from one location to another). To keep matters simple, we will focus upon translational kinetic energy. The amount of translational kinetic energy (from here on, the phrase kinetic energy will refer to translational kinetic energy) that an object has depends upon two variables: the mass (m) of the object and the speed (v) of the object. The following equation is used to represent the kinetic energy (KE) of an object.”

Rather than making my Super-Heroine Kinetictra a blind college professor I’ve decided to give her an Identity closer to home. Kinetictra public identity will be as a Security Guard at the Gotham Museum of Art aka One Million Hands Touching. Have not yet decided whether to place her on Early or Late Watch but I’m leaning towards Late/Night Watch. More morose, crazy, quirky, scary, stuff happens at night especially in the wee hours of the morning — between dusk and dawn Angels and demons battle for the souls of humans…………………………………

Two Men Contemplating the Moon Caspar David Friedrich  (German, Greifswald 1774–1840 Dresden)

Two Men Contemplating the Moon
Caspar David Friedrich
(German, Greifswald 1774–1840 Dresden)

My name is Kinetictra, my day time hustle is as a Protector of Antiquities aka security officer at the Gotham Galleries located in an upscale neighborhood on the Upper North-West Side the Gold Coast of Gotham. A cultural institution where old money and new money meet, shake hands, make deals, and then stab each other behind the back when the other looks away. An eclectic menagerie of worldwide artworks that often seem to have no rhyme or reason in placement with just a focus on aesthetics.

As for our visitors especially the foreigners may as well be named, “One Million Hands Touching.”  That’s one of the reasons why I moved from Day Shift to Night Watch. There’s only some much of saying, “Don’t Touch” and fielding questions about where are the bathrooms and restaurants are before you’re ready to pull your hair out and commit hari-kari. Yup, it was a relief to get off days and into the nocturnal peace, calm and tranquility. For me the sun’s rays are sting like an Albino left out on the beach mid-day 95 degree temps with no protection.

For years I dwelt with the bottom feeders. Those moronic visitors who feigned an interest in art but only really wanted to get out of the weather. They were walking cadavers alongside big boob butt bimbo skanky hoes who never had to work a day in their lazy lives.

Now no more cigarette shit breath tourists way too close for comfort invading my personal space with their foul body odors dispensing lame pandering foolish remarks like knives of ignorance into my flesh.

The museum is populated by a wonderful yet mysterious quiet & peace undisturbed by the frenetic masses. Silences punctuated only by flowing water, the endless hum and shifting of building machinery.

Even normal noises can be unsettling. Especially those associated with people. The building has become a living breathing organism Uttering creaks moans sighs groans from over 140 years of footfalls, voices, radios, songs, cantatas, the chiming of clocks, exclamations of awe & wonder. Whispers from a Victorian century long past to digital diversity.

Oh what secrets lie transfixed within these silent walls yearning for release. 

The immortality of brick, mortar & steel record the march of ethnicities & nations who roam free these hallowed halls.

Sometimes the sudden interruption of footfalls becomes ominous, invading the sanctity of the Holy Sanctuary. Even the sound of my own steps is somewhat menacing. What spirits accompany me on perambulations among the saints and sinners?

The feeble burbling of the fountain stream’s half-hearted attempts to empty its essence, struggling to pollinate magnificent coins.

The day is at end, the light has faded. Now the night crew enters to continue the evening melody.

Nighttime stillness is the best time to pick up on all the little signals, cries, sighs, moans and whispers recorded by the walls and replayed for my delight during the hours of darkness. Sometimes during my rounds I place my hands upon the 150 year old walls and I listen in on conversations dating back to Civil War times.

The Universe is composed of vibrations. Every living thing has its own unique pulsations which emit tons of information going back minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, decades, and eons well into past lives. Darkness brings not only moonlight but night terrors, fears that become flesh and then my mission begins………


Seed

She put her hand to the Stone……………………

She put her hand to the Stone and a million millennia of memories coursed through her soul and out from her pores.

She put her hand to every boulder and heard the rocks cry out their praise to Our Creator.

She put her hand to the magnificent Oak Tree and received the voices of streams, rivers, oceans, lakes and streams.

Woman Tree

Woman Tree

She put her hand inside Gaia Mother Earth and heard the calls of sacrifices, bog dwellers, cave peoples, the cries of those murdered all crying out for justice.

She extended her hands within the forest absorbed the singings of creatures past and present reverberating within her spirit.

She put her hand upon the Rock of Ages and they extended their hands inside her inner being enveloping her with knowledge, wisdom and understanding.

What Are The Akashic Records & How to Access the Akashic Records

 http://youtu.be/SojN1E79jG0


Kinetictra

Well I’m a Wacky, Crazy, Hyper Kinetic ball of High strung Nervous energy which I blame either on menopause or being born and raised in New York City. The Big Apple. The City that Never Sleeps and sometimes neither do I.

Could I be Type Epsilon.  Maybe my personality traits, quirks and characteristics could be best described or explained within the Greek Alphabet.

Greek alphabet
Αα Alpha Νν Nu
Ββ Beta Ξξ Xi
Γγ Gamma Οο Omicron
Δδ Delta Ππ Pi
Εε Epsilon Ρρ Rho
Ζζ Zeta Σσς Sigma
Ηη Eta Ττ Tau
Θθ Theta Υυ Upsilon
Ιι Iota Φφ Phi
Κκ Kappa Χχ Chi
Λλ Lambda Ψψ Psi
Μμ Mu Ωω Omega

 

Perhaps I’m a Twisted Sister of the Insane Sorority!

I think I’m a combination of A & B personality aspects because I look calm on the outside but am usually seething on the inside. Thank God for my writing also because that helps keep me sane. It’s the Unicorn in me.  I am many voices, many faces, a conduit for spirits past, present and future.  Forever eternally fueled by internal energy sources emanating from a bottomless well and my border-less garden.

Definitions’ may describe some of my more unusual characteristics but labels cannot define or contain me.

Is my life A Ball of Confusion as envisioned by the Temptations?   http://youtu.be/MMis_FBgotQ

I think not!

As for people opinions and expectations I say “Let me be Zany, Zaftig, Madcap, crazy, cool enough to always keep them guessing!!”

Kinetictra is Born & Lives Among Us!!!

New Super Hero Name!!  This will be My New Super Hero Identity!  Kinetictra ~ Kinetictra produces energy molecules that become entities who are entirely under Her Dominion and Command.  They do the will of their Mother Creator vanquishing ignorance and evil, restoring balance to the planet, drawing from the forces of multiple Galaxies. Kinetictra also has the ability to suspend time allowing her the ability to travel backwards and forwards through eons.

 

She also is a Clairsentient  or more commonly known as an Empath, one who perceive and intuit people’s energies.  She is able to pick up on others’ desires, wishes, thoughts, and moods. Kinetictra can perceive physical sensitivities and spiritual urges, as well as just knowing the motivations and intentions of other people.  By possessing the ability to read Auras of all sentient beings Kinetictra can draw from past, present and future lives to prevent evil and guide troubled souls towards goodness and Wellness!

 

African/Native American Queen

MMC 2002 Graduation

Those of you who are Artists Please Draw me as Kinetictra. She must have my facial features, coloring and build. No cartoony or comic figures. Bring back my Locs for Authenticity.  Thanks!

 

Carnival Cruise 2004

2004 Carnival Cruise

“Kinetic energy is an expression of the fact that a moving object can do work on anything it hits; it quantifies the amount of work the object could do as a result of its motion. The total mechanical energy of an object is the sum of its kinetic energy and potential energy.The total energy of an isolated system is subject to the conservation of energy principle.

 

Kinetic energy is the energy of motion. An object that has motion – whether it is vertical or horizontal motion – has kinetic energy. There are many forms of kinetic energy – vibrational (the energy due to vibrational motion), rotational (the energy due to rotational motion), and translational (the energy due to motion from one location to another). To keep matters simple, we will focus upon translational kinetic energy. The amount of translational kinetic energy (from here on, the phrase kinetic energy will refer to translational kinetic energy) that an object has depends upon two variables: the mass (m) of the object and the speed (v) of the object. The following equation is used to represent the kinetic energy (KE) of an object.”

DeBorah Ann Palmer

Proverbs 31: 10-30

Twitter

@Dancingpalmtree

Writer, Educator, Researcher, avid book reader and Tattoo enthusiast

http://twitter.com/dancingpalmtree
Pinky: “Gee, Brain, what do you want to do tonight?”
The Brain: “The same thing we do every night, Pinky—try to take over the world!”

 

 

 


Evolution of Childhood InterPlanetary Dreams

Underground Railroad

Grandmas Reign Quilt

Eva Sophronia Gordon Palmer -- Grandmother

Eva Sophronia Gordon Palmer — Grandmother

Epoch Heydays beat rhythm time Tempo bringing Glory Days and Golden Age into Earth, Space, time Continuum alignment around my being. Spiritual Discernment begins the convergence of planets, Moon-Womben Star-gazers endlessly birthing heavenly bodies and floating orbs.

Underground Railroad_2

Mother Africa as Creator Goddess singing Reign Blessings upon her children.

My World, the ones I saw in my Grandmother’s Quilt and the ever expanding Galaxies beyond Earth, Sky, Sun and Moon-Daughter Wishes, Hopes and Desires.

Ancient hand stretching finger Ancestor Dimensions reaching forward into time and eternity bringing revelation knowledge of history long past yet made fresh daily.

Troubles beating bloody fists upon my pate.

Belladonna into Nightshades.

Tethered by an unholy umbilical cord to a dead albatross. Dreams deluge.  Green metal Frigidaire Fan blowing air opposite it’s promised heat relief. Stub toe late shift Dad curses Castro and his Convertible. Bucolic heat wave summer in the city. 25 cent Ice Cream salvation dispensed by Mr. Softee. Martha Reeves and her Vandellas gyrating to Dancing in the Streets while kids follow her Piped Pipers.

Kool-Aid libation sugar screams ensue while transistor talking heads Ralph Kiner and Lindsey Nelson called Shea play by plays. Bygone days of Tri-Corn braids.  Fletcher’s Castoria Beef Iron Wine cocktails.   Childhood freedom beckons signalling release from adulthood chain gangs. Teeter-totter bring unbalanced superimposed idealized memories to double-doubted times past. It’s 1964 and my Dixie Peach anointed head snuggles with Panda pillow transcending time once again in the loving arms of Grandma Eva’s patchwork quilt.


A Building at Rest

The museum Thanksgiving Day 2012 -
the museum is populated by a wonderful yet mysterious quiet & peace undisturbed by the frenetic masses. Silences punctuated only by flowing water, the endless hum and shifting of building machinery.

Even normal noises can be unsettling. Especially those associated with people. The building has become a living breathing organism Uttering creaks moans sighs groans from over 140 years of footfalls, voices, radios, songs, cantatas, the chiming of clocks, exclamations of awe & wonder. Whispers from a Victorian century long past to digital diversity.

Oh what secrets lie transfixed within these silent walls yearning for release.

The immortality of brick, mortar & steel record the march of ethnicities & nations who roam free these hallowed halls.

Sometimes the sudden interruption of footfalls becomes ominous, invading the sanctity of the Holy Sanctuary. Even the sound of my own steps is somewhat menacing. What spirits accompany me on perambulations among the saints and sinners?

The feeble burbling of the fountain stream’s half-hearted attempts to empty its essence, struggling to pollinate magnificent coins.

The day is at end, the light has faded. Now the night crew enters to continue the evening melody.

Hotel California

Hotel California

 

Reflections Goth Holiday 2013

Cadaver Mind A.D.D.

Heaving sighs and moans.  Creaks, chrupping of brick, mortar, steel and glass pane windows. Blood oozes and drips from open wounds in Lehman’s red brick walls. Elevator doors open and a thousand wailing, howling, grieving souls swoop through the air and into the Medieval Court crying for revenge. Flight of the Valkyries. The Martyrs avenge their unjust and untimely deaths. Swirling and whirling like profane dervishes from netherworld’s portal of the undead.

Angels Falling

Angels Falling

Hail Mary Echoes from thousands of Knights, monks, Nuns, bishops, and church saints racing through Byzantium corridors. Spirits of Reliquaries issue forth warnings and admonishments to modern day savages. Reliquary Fingers of Blessing Inflict Pain Yanking Opening Death’s Door breaking off bits and pieces of flesh, bone, teeth and hair for deposit into ossuary banks.

Slats opening and closing mindfully as though giving some secret Morse Code. Dioramas of Death act out murderous suicidal dramas. Eagle slays Dragon plucking out blinded eyes from empty orbs.

Medieval castle built long ago by invaders long forgotten. A grand foyer flanked by two long hallways of Byzantine art leading into Medieval Sculpture Hall filled with statues of Madonnas, Saints, Mystics, Relics, and tombs from Egypt, Europe, Greece, Cyprus and South America. Kali goddess of the sarcophagus raises her many arms in Victory. Subterranean pipes hissing steam clanking unrest.

Island of the Damned -- Bocklin

Island of the Damned by Bocklin

Secret panels opening up to Mausoleum subterranean chambers containing overturned ossuaries, bones bleached white scattered throughout the tombs.

Abruptly Angels on the Christmas tree come to life and like ravenous vampire bats attack unsuspecting visitors. Reanimated Reliquary Arms reach out to throttle throats of fleeing patrons. Fang toothed Egyptian mummies arise and break through display cases to satiate their ancient eon hunger upon frenzied victims. Their desert saliva spreading infection causing festering vile pus filled carbuncles to captive prey.

Emptiness and Futility of Life

Life’s ignoble Ending

Desire run rampant as sacrilegious effigies coupled and reached radiant necrophilia orgasm stone bodies now made supple. Mystics and Monks glowered lecherously all the while reciting Gregorian chants, dirges and cries for absolution filling the room with the intensity of their mating.

Gargoyles descended from illicit trysts with human females and warlock man beasts gave into the licentious behaviors’ anointing themselves and fleeing clienteles with seminal fluid oily slick.

Orgasm became an exceptional obsession.

Viscous gleaming blood, shimmering with glided preternatural flakes of light. Black Iris her breasts like soft fragrant pillows.

Categories

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,424 other followers

Archives

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,424 other followers

%d bloggers like this: