Creative Deconstruction

● www.GoliathFlores.com ● Reconsidering Karma: C ountless times I've heard the statements: "They'll get theirs" and "What comes around goes around". In a situation like that what good will it do you, to your life, to your situation for a person to later experience adversity? In the past I've found myself thinking things like that. As if the universe was keeping tabs, and was going to somehow strike the person down in a clandestine way. But, in retrospect I see that it was usually a relief for the frustration of not being able to do anything about it at the time, or washing my hands of my capabilities in the sacred geometry of the universe. It's clear to me that governments more than any other entity have calculated the consequences for their actions, and if Karma were a source of dependable retribution they cover that base as well. Since, Karma would most likely come from other humans these possible threats could be accounted for. You bein...

Since I don't have the time or money to make these things happen in real life... and you are all on here most of the time anyway. I decided to make Jacksonville virtually more interesting than it already is. (CLICK PICTURES FOR FULL SIZE) A Jazz Restaurant and Coffee House on Ocean St. and Union St. Murals on N. Laura St. & State. (Was that you driving past there? Yes... Stand in awe of my gif animation skills. A vegetarian restaurant named "Xochi" on Laura St. (Down Town) A revolving restaurant at the top of the JEA building. (Down Town) A Bo Jackson Mural view from Broad St. How about murals on the big blank wall where Ocean and Union meet for inspiration? An African American history Museum on Phelps and Hubbard St. One of the worlds largest Aquarium Museums on Laura St. (Down Town) A coffee house on N. Laura St. Ummm... Oh, come on! Have a sense of humor.

I like seeing the bracelets around your wrists Like rings around the planets of your hands Where the land is fertile Where there are fields of gold Where my sighs live Your touch replenishes me. G. Flores

Rapist of dreams Violator You twist my wrist Into roses that sparkle You take my deepest innocence And sell it to me in a window You torture my lovedones And make me watch Unable to scream Unable to move Unable to close my eyes You make me something I’m not You make me a mouse When I am a cat You make me a worm When I’m a bird You turn my own imagination on me You mine in deep caves I cannot track G. Flores

Don't do it this way Don't throw words at me Like they were gold coins And I your whore Don't leave me so slowly Don't creep out of the back door While I sleep Wake me from this dream And tell me that you don't want me That you hate my snoring That I am not the one That it is my fault Instead of me wondering If I live in illusion Or what it is I've done Don't push me away Like a plate of food that you’re full of That you no longer hunger for G. Flores

They taste like the house I once lived in They are natural, organic and Have absorbed the aromas and the habits In their flavor As I eat these seeds The old house comes alive The memory so gladly forgotten And tucked away Is resurected By the encription of their flavor These seeds of the sunflower Have made it spring They have erected the frame They have rebuilt the walls And shine their light On this memory sprouting in me Unroasted, unsalted, and raw I eat this old house I eat my roomates I eat the unwashed dishes I eat the music that was played G. Flores

I do not want to live in a building like a meatloaf in a box Nor do I want to drive a car whose price could feed thousands because I felt like I deserved it I don’t want to go on chasing carrots made of pixels and wonder who I am in the middle of life to find myself in Paris I want to make my own I want to take a seed from my soul and muster up a crystal I want to chop down the trees of knowledge and re-plant a tree of life I don’t want to wear a watch like the guy does in the magazine you know, the watch that tells you that he's smart scuba diving manly, taking out the trash Taking care of business holding his chin upon his thumb and two fingers to the brow I want to be a man that you've never seen on T.V. not like him or her I want to walk into a party amongst cologne and watches razor burn and ties like whips and shackles I want to walk into that room and glow with wonder made of purity of heart It makes my stomach turn to think about pandoras box It frightens me I've go...