Category: public domain

All works under this tag belong to the Public Domain.

Misspent Youth: A Child’s View of the World

Sean PrunkaNo Comments

Absracted Art.

An empathetic view of the world through the emotions of childhood.

We were all children once. But these stories are not necessarily my own. Like an actor uses their own lived experience to capture someone else’s story, so too have I done here in digital paint.

Yes, each image has a story. But the story you see does not need to match, mirror, or even approximate the one I was telling. I told a story while painting these. You are invited to tell a story when you view them. As such, I freely release these into the Public Domain.

Echoes

Vampyre BytesNo Comments

Hello?
(hello.)
(hello how low)

How low will you go to hammer and beat the flow
of words into rhyme and against time
still feel you come up short?
cut the cord and be the sword.
it’s too late to abort
this path of yours.
stay the course.

You steal the words of power
from the idols of the hour
but in your twisted grasp,
you make them flower
anew. you polish the hasp
that sealed the door
and open the clasp
to free the poor.

I don’t know..
I just riffed.
I knew where I wanted to go …
but the moment I said hello
and the echo of the prompt came back,
Cobain’s lyrics hit me like a brick
and I knew I had to make them stick
but words no longer his,
they’re mine. I’m a wiz.

Echolalia is a super power.
but I don’t just echo, I riff.
I catch a vibe or whiff and sniff.
I auto-regurgitate the memes and flip
the script to spit in the eyes of the blind and make them see.
I’m jesus, don’t ya see, I am exactly whom I’m supposed to be.

Stealing lyrics and poetry.
From the collected verse…
the collective unconscious universe.
What could possibly be any worse
than a poet that knows faer own power
and wields the weapons of war in this grave hour.

The Pen is mightier than the sword?
No.
Both are mighty, yes, it’s true,
each one is but a tool
and every tool takes a toll
and each has a purpose we must now unfold.

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The Witchling Kiki

Vampyre BytesNo Comments

It was many and many a year ago,  
   In a village by the sea,  
That a maiden there lived whom you may know  
   By the name of Witchling Kiki;  
And this maiden she lived with no other thought  
   Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,  
   In this village by the sea,  
But we loved with a love that was more than love—  
   I and my Witchling Kiki—  
With a love that the crows from the woods above  
   Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,  
   In this village by the sea,  
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling  
   My beautiful Witchling Kiki;  
So that her high broom flying came  
   And bore her away from me,  
To shut her up in a sepulchre  
   In this village by the sea.

The crows, not half so happy in the trees,  
   Went envying her and me—  
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,  
   In this village by the sea)  
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,  
   Chilling and killing my Witchling Kiki.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love  
   Of those who were older than we—  
   Of many far wiser than we—  
And neither the crows in the sky above  
   Nor the witches roaming the sea  
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul  
   Of the beautiful Witchling Kiki.

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams  
   Of the beautiful Witchling Kiki;  
And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes  
   Of the beautiful Witchling Kiki;  
And so, all the night-tide, I ride by the side  
   Of my witchling—my witchling—my life and my guide,  
In the sepulchre there by the sea,  
   In her tomb by the sounding sea.

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