Angels are Celestial Higher level beings from God. Whereas Elves and Fairies are terrestrial creatures who must pray for Guidance from God. They assist in maintaining this Earthly Realm.
My brother Stephen who has Autism is a True Angel. As you can see Stephen operates on a much Higher Heavenly Level. Stephen life view is gifted from Above.
An African Elfin Fairy Communing with Nature
For Us of the African Diaspora
Myself The Inner City African Fairy Elf is Artist of the Month for April at The Daily Press Coffee Shop located at 38 Somers Street, Brooklyn, New York.
The Sassy Sexy Irreverent One has made her way back to the Writing Blogosphere after a very brief hiatus!!
Still suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous misfortune despite all ills, aches and pains the Queen has made her way back to her Throne!! In the guise of Blue Spider Woman and with extra assistance from the Nubian Ninja D-Nice is back in the House!! Three Cheers for her Ladyship!! Hip! Hip! Hooray!!
Enveloped in the sweet inky darkness of a sultry summer Knight his face flees from my mind as I chase it from dimension to dimension. Finally letting go I fade into Solaris laying upon her Lunar base, I allow the Moonrise and twinkling stars to seep into my flesh igniting my stigmata to flare forth into the future.
Eruptions of hot lava issue forth from every orifice. Inky Darkness remembers your hands on my thighs. Hungry Celestial eyes devouring my pheromone gaze. Samson, Know you not that your strength lies in your Night streaked Locs?
Allow the weight of obsidian rolling clouds to keep rhythm with creating volcanic galaxies. Black Unicorn Pegasus trails Midnight passion seeds pollinating transcendent universe.
I clap my hands and entire solar systems arise, new planets are life populated and dying stars alliance with more brilliant suns.
Mother was held in a panorama spun by coveted lovers, who were harlots through celibacy. Invasion of the Body Snatchers whilst the Queen Borg keys jangling at her side hovers and wanders abandoned cells. Caught up in super glue strong web awaiting sacrifice to whatever gods may brought forth. Brain septic by glowering imps sowing discord and muddle.
Reminiscences dance in the fog of false recollections. New realities dawn upon hazy cloudy dew kissed shores. Sand castles washed away by strong willed breakers. Molecules and atoms dripping essence along rosy silt coastlines. Scamps and scalawags populating geographical dungeons.
With this confession my Mother’s Soul residing within me is at rest. She rages no more, her anguish has been extinguished.
My mother and I share broken lives, shattered in similar places we cut ourselves on shards of pain, our fractured lives seeking to mend.
Madame Sultan with no edit button or filters to gauge this new animation wondering where to fit in. Butternut pancakes with a side order of Squash.
Now I attempt to retrieve the scattered pieces, seeking to restore the scattered jigsaw puzzle of Isis, long in disarray, bent and twisted from misuse, abuse and false accusations. Fraying the edges making impossible even imperfect fits.
Sitting across from her flesh & blood ghost, linking hands we grant each other absolution long sought from others outside our circle but only possible for us, from us. I am she and she is me into perpetuity.
“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. Kinetictra’s Tag Line will be, “It’s time to shiver a little…!” Her Dread Locs will be weapons used to ensnare villains. Her magic spirals will capture and vanquish evil doers. They are composed of Zentangles swirling and whirling. These amazing locs are purple with deep blue highlights and can at will assume all shapes, forms, sizes, types of silky, satin curly koils.
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)
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………
Espiritu en Fuego/A Fiery Spirit 