RastaRicanStudio|Ellenville|New York » Rambling

Keeping thoughts flowing and knowledge growing

RastaRicanStudio — Tue, 17 Jan 2012 09:39:27 +0000

Laying low but not on the down low.
Keeping thoughts flowing and knowledge growing.
Having a time trying to fellowship with ‘trifling’ people.
So spending time alone and yet keeping His light to right though even though no one is left.
Taking this ship on lifetime cruise and I cannot afford to lose my way.
Though the grave seems like as a good a place to rest but I have work to do.
For a long as there is life there is decay.
Lets lower our heads and pray for the morals that have fallen on a bed of disrespect.
A moment of silence for the expectations that lay on the floor.
I am asked often why I am not in church.
Because my soul does not rest and my nerves vibrate.
The only time they speak to me is to judge about one Sunday but not to say how are you today.
I smile and deflect for the darkest of all space is behind this face.
My words fermenting in the corners of my mind waiting for one more insipid pious word from them and I’ll wipe that look of your face so fast you will need intercessory prayers just to stand up.
They bring ‘others’ to speak and spew and expect me to sit there like a fool.
I wait but the weight is too much and like a leaf in Autumn I fall by the wayside.
Sometimes on stony ground until the winds of change move me or just the stain of who I was remains on the concrete.

Knowledge is like the air that we breathe

RastaRicanStudio — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 15:07:30 +0000

Knowledge is like the air that we breathe but for our brains.
I prefer wide open spaces and various scents in the air.

Some subscribe to the “Western Classics” and other to “eastern Knowledge” base.

I take in knowledge like the air that breathe and the basis to my words.

Before I speak I take a breathe of air and form the words to convey my thoughts that were shaped by the knowledge that my eyes, ears and Soul have retained.

Break Up

RastaRicanStudio — Thu, 12 Jan 2012 11:40:07 +0000

I did not know about the break up, sorry.
I know that the ratio of Love to heartache is true.
I remember getting ready to break up because I felt we were no longer on the same page.
We were suppose to write our own story but somehow grew apart.
I held that book close to my heart and it would echo my heartbeat but in reality it was OUR heartbeats.
When I could only hear my own heartbeat I wanted to put the book on the shelf.
Through it all I told her that I Loved her and would forever and a day or maybe just one more day.
But I didn’t say that I liked her or I felt I was treated.
I stayed away from the dreaded “YOU”
You know the ‘you make me feel this way when YOU and YOU always say this to and YOU do that You are a _____
You makes the person defensive and Why can create anxiety.
I feel this way when this happens or if something is done or not done.
The you can be there BUT the ‘I’ means this is about YOU and your feeling/needs are not being met…remember that when a BUT is thrown in there the opposite of was to left is to the right.
Cry and hold yourself tight and whisper softly.
Do not point a finger at anyone for there are three pointing back and one thumb.
A season, a reason but not a lifetime.
It happened for a reason and lasted more than a season.
You now know what you are capable of and what you will not tolerate.
Have you ever read Reading Without Reflecting is like Eating Without Digesting?
Well lets throw in the Living Without Introspection. Now child you have to look within, not always pretty. Look at what you attracted and or deflected. Complimenting is better than complicating.
We sometime attract people who complement our strengths and others that shore our weaknesses.
The resurrection of taught or fraught.
Remember what you taught by this person, let the lesson not be lost.
If not your next relationship will be fraught with similar issues.
Taught also means tight and you most remain loose.
The strongest steel is a cable(d) that gives way without breaking.
Allow yourself to be held by friends/family and her your own words out load BUT stand proud.
Yesterday is downstream and tomorrow is just a vision BUT you are here today.
You survived and will continue because you Loved and are capable of loving…Child that is a beautiful thing.

Sipping On Spit

RastaRican — Wed, 21 Dec 2011 11:16:58 +0000

Sipping on Spit and Chewing on cables life turned to strife not close to a Fairy Tale or a Fable.
My Hopes falling through the cracks on the floor that mirror my heart.
I await death but it teases me, you see.
It comes and holds me in it’s cold embrace and then walks away laughing at my disgrace.
But held I was awaiting the disentanglement as my body sputters and my Spirit seeks to be rid of the carnal clutter.
Sitting in the glow of an 11-year-old computer screen swallowing coffee hard to wash down the screams that are the echos to the tears that stream…and caress an old man’s face. Hoping the coffee will speed up my heart so that I know that it is there and not subjugated like a silent tectonic plate with despair.
I have kissed many a tear from a woman’s cheeks but nary a one is here near my seat.
My whole being falling into a hole being that it has collapse and my life is a seen as a retrospective time lapse video.
Holding your face in my arms with you head canted looking radiant and enchanted.
Lips slightly parted as my hands caress your face and I bring my lips to your blossom of a mouth and kiss you gently.
Lightly biting that lower lip and pulling it forward until I hear an inspiration.
Then we begin the dance of silent lengua franca.

First Lets Tango!

RastaRican — Sat, 24 Sep 2011 12:37:33 +0000

First lets Tango!
Then we can tangle and I wrangle the passion that sits below the surface but resounds like depth charges in your voice.
The choice He makes wake me up to the glory of a day and the polyphony of your voice as the background of our music of our Bacchanal corporeal musing.
The fires burning strong on detritus of residence and rising like smoke our resilience will live in the spirit world when our bodies have been returned to dust.
I think I should go food shopping, I might be a bit hypoglycemic.

You write words words and I write with light.

RastaRican — Tue, 13 Sep 2011 21:20:19 +0000

You write with words and I write with light.
We each have something to say/share.
The light behind a dove or the varying degrees of the heart.
Non should be kept in dark they should be forthwith for all should be seen and heard.
As scary as it is nary a word should not be said for it is an echo of a thought of a feeling.
Some are appealing others send us reeling.

I ask my Lord why you took away my earthly scaffolding

RastaRican — Fri, 02 Sep 2011 21:54:27 +0000

I ask my Lord why did you take away my earthly scaffolding and left me holding nothing but faith.
He said the faith that you hold within will lift you higher that the highest stairs a man can built.

I asked him why my relationship broke up and He said it was broken I just woke you up.
I asked him for signal lights so I know wrong from right and direction.
He said I allow you sleep at night and awaken every morning to see the light, follow it.
I gave you life before you were born and shelter in your mother’s womb.
The first love but that would be gone too soon.
I have loved many but been loved by few, love for things from the dark can leave your soul black and blue.
You have forgiven me and sheltered my spirit when my body sought destruction in the flesh.
As you sheltered Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego.
Though Daniel was a young man when he wrote about the fiery furnace and I am long in years but yet you still hold me near.
I try not to wander far from you but as the flesh seeks I have yet remained unscathed thanks to you.
I give thanks to you every day for by your Grace I awake and through your word I walk throughout the day.

Antonio Adams
www.rastaricanstudio.com

I am an acquired taste many have not yet acquired

RastaRican — Thu, 01 Sep 2011 22:15:15 +0000

I am an acquired taste many have not yet acquired but I will not be the progenitor of still born art for the sake of the sterile masses. My art is an external projection of an internal evolution/disillusion of the reality … Continue reading →

Brad Hirschfield: Does Michele Bachmann Speak for God?

RastaRican — Tue, 30 Aug 2011 01:10:56 +0000

Apparently Michele Bachmann thinks that she does, in fact, speak for God. Just hours after what a Chief of the FDNY theorized was a tornado touching down on my block early Sunday morning — a tornado that felled giant trees and started two fires — the GOP presidential candidate explained to an audience in Florida why this was happening, and her explanation was a doozy.

“I don’t know how much God has to do to get the attention of the politicians. We’ve had an earthquake; we’ve had a hurricane. He said, ‘Are you going to start listening to me here?’ Listen to the American people because the American people are roaring right now. They know government is on a morbid obesity diet and we’ve got to rein in the spending.”

As a New Yorker whose block was featured on the cover of today’s New York Times as the preeminent example of the damage Irene caused, as a religious person and as an American (not mention one who struggles with my weight), those words cut close to home. While I appreciate Bachmann’s sincerity, I have to ask myself, “Is she nuts?” The answer is not as simple as one might imagine.

via Brad Hirschfield: Does Michele Bachmann Speak for God?.

JRO

RastaRican — Wed, 16 Mar 2011 23:05:45 +0000

There is but one JRO 4 those in the know!
Psst! Over here, meet me behind the server where/wear no one will disturb us.
I will be at your browser because I like how you in that DNS dress.
The css makes you look like one hot tamale hottie to this proxy/HTTP:
You look sublime dressed all up to the mimes.
I just want to put you in an iFrame cuz you have not changed since I was a young Mac you my PC = Pretty Chic.
remember When We Were all over the world?
man, it was just yesteryear when you gave your IP and I shared/chaired my ISP with you.
We started as Explorers by the Window and set on Firefox looking all polished like Chrome, I just want to take Home.
I love how you use to write to me in JavaScript and how we download without being in a JQuery.
PHP was nothing for as I you in that Ruby lipstick and I was on Rails.
Honey you are my URL = Underwritten Real Love.
Remember playing DOS and having to head Home before dark?
Walking in Parallels and my looking into your eyes thinking what a sweet GUI you were sporting
Ah the days of alt ctrl delete because that old window could not compete but is has been 7 for how long?
I want to take you in my arms and wrap/rap you in HTMl and just love the you smell.