copyright Robert Sayre II
Monday, December 31, 2012
Saturday, December 29, 2012
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Friday, December 21, 2012
So I've always had this idealized notion
(even now, after being aware of the folly
of such things in the face of the way of
the world) about making a project that
would be progressive in all regards.
This project would commence after winning the Lottery, naturally.
Just some brief concept layouts for
this compound that would allow multiple families to
share land, expenses, work, and product
just like it used to be when communities worked
together for a common good.
Everyone owns their own stuff; you don't
forego ownership or have shared property.
It's a co-op of living resources.
Basically the goal is to be as efficient and as
self-sustaining as possible; eco-friendly,
wind and solar powered as much as possible,
grow most of your own foods pesticide free,
have a workable Recycle-Refuse-Repurpose-Restrict
policy in play, and time-saving efforts like
More sketches to come, like floor plans and
Monday, December 17, 2012
Thursday, December 6, 2012
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Thursday, November 29, 2012
Monday, November 26, 2012
Saturday, November 24, 2012
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
"Oh, the Holidays...
put a bullet in my head...
no, not just a graze...
No, not really...
now I feel silly..
cuz I have a better plan
in mind instead....
(One in which it's others--
not me--that wind up dead!)
See, I favor homicide
Why should I be the only one
who's cried and had nerves fried?
If you kill yourself this year,
assholes will still be filled with cheer,
and if you kill yourself my dear
there's just no way to get revenge.
But if you simply must decide
best to go with mass homicide;
when will you get that many douches
in one place again?!?
Cuz suicide is too much
like they killed you twice;
I'd prefer to stay around
and fight the fight.
Besides... why would I hurt myself
on the word of a filthy drunken elf,
whose clues are dusty on a shelf..
they condemn me but they're in hell.
But after I have vented here,
I'll probably just expose my rear,
and tell everyone to be a dear
and kiss it where the hole is near.
Thank goodness this thankful shit
comes only once a year!
c. 2012 Robert Lee Sayre II
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Monday, November 12, 2012
Sunday, November 11, 2012
(For more info on the origin of this cartoon--dating
back to the early 1990's, mind you--just google
'Father Balthazar, Tampa church')
Friday, November 2, 2012
Monday, October 29, 2012
Watercolor design for
the character 'Ione' from my series,
"The Daring Alliance"
(copyright 2012 Robert Sayre/Arelis Publications)
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Friday, October 26, 2012
Saturday, October 6, 2012
Wednesday, October 3, 2012
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Those unfortunate (bastard) wild boys,
trained too early
and too easily
that their goods were in demand
that they could barter through life
on looks and loving
Charm is their first line of defense
Permanently on offense
(still not in control)
taking from others
as was done to them
The original biological weapon.
This talent for assessing need
This dark discernment
working towards neither's good,
A call to charms
Playing that designated role
imprinted too young
Be what they need
Swallow yourself whole
Manipulation is power
or a passable facsimile thereof
You exert bravado
so we would never imagine
the rift within
Saturday, September 8, 2012
was once plentiful
Sturdy and assumed,
monolithic in proportion,
How fickle we became,
it would seem,
by age 30;
old promises faded,
the delicate tickle
now furiously gripping
all the tiny things
in the land of
older and wiser.
Perspective works in reverse
of what I'd imagined
(Why should that deceit
be any different
from all other beliefs
turned on their ears?)
Awareness finds me
much too late;
the party is ended.
(but it will still serve
to find me home.)
It takes a season
to respect your own
to stop selling out
for a few laughs
and to fill your nights
(or, typically, none at all.)
To determine that duplicity shown
in front of you
can also be anticipated
once you depart, as well.
That gossip snakes around your name--
that those pangs in your back
are caused by more than exes' voodoo.
To no longer need
to take you through
the night's isolation...
to make you feel complete,
Instead, to forge your own happiness,
and encourage your own brilliance;
no need for half-hearted
undercuts and overlooked slights,
bland tolerance, or hearty indifference.
Strive and perform and provide,
and the more you do,
it's expected of you;
I reached a point
where my capacity
and my tolerance
was all used up.
Something about 'looking
in all the wrong places.'
I needed more...
I found it.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
|(Slave Angel by Mariano7724)|
I'm wishing there were
something more to see
cuz it seems
all inbred fucks
with no clue
and all luck,
and all the wrong people
and all the wrong people
Nostalgia's a crying shame;
was it that good
or just a good game?
The skew of reflection
or the passage of time
Either way you slice it
it's all the same
Nothing left for me
in the here and now
I call my own name
No one else
does it quite the same
There's an onerous task
in going it alone
yet the alternative
cuts to the bone
When other folks try to
send me shame
I call my own name
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Kenneth sat quietly on his hardwood deck and took in the beautiful,
crisp spring smells. Dusk was his favorite time of day, and he
performed his typical daily ritual of enjoying the nearly disappeared
sun by doing some reading and sipping a homemade smoothie.
But it wasn't the taste of kelp and apples that lingered on his lips.
A passage in his book had triggered something far sweeter, that he
had not thought on for many years. Touching on it had brought the
reading to a pause, lifted him erect in the chair, and now he sat gazing
doe-eyed and transfixed out onto the horizon.
Kenneth had never told anyone about the experience that filled him
with such warmth. To do so would have seemed trite, forced. It
wasn't that he felt ashamed, necessarily. It's just that the privacy
of such a thing was part of the wonderment, and to share it would
expose it to the mundaneness of this bleak world.
Besides, all memory is best savored from a distance. Rewatching
old favorite movies and attending high school reunions had been the
death of more than a few sacredly held beliefs. He didn't want a
revisiting to destroy this precious memory.
He found himself in a very contemplative mood as a result of his
memory stroll, which was a rather unorthodox mindset for this
accomplished and driven man. At 45, he had done pretty much
everything imaginable, but you wouldn't know it to look at him.
Average looks, unassuming, not significant according to the social
registry or the financial big whigs, he still was able to carry his own.
Although a loner in the truest sense of the word, he was affable
with all he met, bringing a smile and a flutter to the most stone-faced
of women and even a few men. He was not a party person, but he had
no judgment of others' vices. He had never been heard to utter a
single political or religious view in anyone's company. He was pretty
much a ghost of a man, never needing attention or causing controversy.
There had been enough of that as a kid.
And contentment had been his. Just as he had no real need for people--he
was alone but not lonely--he had no real need for any thing, either. He
was well off from decades of frugal spending and good investments,
and was comfortable in his modest surroundings. But tonight, for the
first time in so long, something was triggered in him that was a foreign
He could remember vividly what it had felt like to be the object of
someone's desire; to know that their deeds and wishes were
centered around you. The power that it had given him, and the
utterly delicious awakening of enticing someone who was 'above'
you in every other way. It had been a drug that nearly devoured
him, but ultimately, it was precious experience.
That first night, all those years ago, staying in the hotel room...
(to be continued..)
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Sometimes I just want to leave that bed unmade all the time.
When I get up from a wondrously restful sleep,
ever-and-ever more rare, I think
"Don't change a thing! Don't get up...don't move...
don't move a sheet."
As if leaving things untouched
will preserve the greatness of the occurrence.
I walk through the house,
walk through the store,
walk through my mind
reflecting on what was.
More and more perfect it becomes,
like spun gold from hay,
or the wonders of a night of drinking
that becomes more impressive and fascinating
with every retelling,
ever-more regardless of the thing's true nature.
It can't be prepared for; there was no special planning
that went into the night when the bed was most
accommodating. Nothing extra done for the providing
of such nourishing nocturnal healthfulness. Probably
nothing extraordinary about the bed, the night,
my ass laid out there, the weather, or any other factor.
It just happened. And upon happening,
my mind created a magical quality to it, and the
moment was preserved in
amber for eternity.
What is the point of a made bed, anyway?
To promote an idea of...what exactly?
Orderliness? Tidiness? Sophistication?
Blow chunks, Zelda; my give a rat's busted.
Preservation is a young man's game.
Friday, June 22, 2012
My Most-Excellent Partner in Crime,
cake decorator extraordinaire,
Miss Lynn Johnson!
She can make any idea you can conceive
(trust me--no matter HOW crazy!)
materialize in front of you!
Here are a few of our collaborations
through the years!
First up it's the "Two Fey Cowboys" with matching
outfits for my gay friends (who are a couple)
who also happened to have back-to-back birthdays!
"Happy Birthday to Two Fine Cow-Pokes!"
"Happy Birthday to Two Fine Cow-Pokes!"
Next up, an unfortunately less-than-ideal
faraway shot of the cake made for my
comic shop (The Legion Outpost) having
a Halloween Party.
The theme; Death of Barney.
Barney the Dinosaur's torso sticking out of
a grave (crushed Oreo cookies) with his
eyes 'X-ed' out, gummy worms crawling
out of his grave, and assorted other
ghouls haunting the graveyard.
"Die, Barney, Die!"
"Die, Barney, Die!"
(Don't worry; it wasn't a comic book shop
Lots of fun memories, and it's always
great to have an artist who can help you
manifest your expressiveness and vision!
(If you live in the Tampa/Brandon area
and need a specialty cake done,
e-mail me at firstname.lastname@example.org
for contact info on Lynn.
And yes, gents, she's single, too!)
Friday, June 15, 2012
One of my models,
a worker at Tampa AIDS Network,
who did a fantastic job!
He was utilized on the cover of
FREE P.R.E.S.S. # 3
Thursday, June 14, 2012
|(Art by Bodstart3 from www.deviantart.com )|
Columbus was fraud;
this world's sure enough flat
Every day'll put you
down on the mat...
It ain't even tit-for-tat.
Ain't nothing new to see
or anywhere left to be,
everything's been discovered
(and done at least thrice)
don't waste time with envy.
I'm not seeking sympathy,
sure as hell don't want advice...
the one who pretends to assist
is the one whose knife will twist.
It's a ruptured life support hose,
no one cares for your woes,
do your best to make do
they're always gunning for you.
Devoid of expectation
the blinders removed
we stumble the darkness
no more spark in our groove.
This is it.
Embrace the insanity.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Cling to the illusion of control
when you know that chaos reigns
Darkness is in our DNA;
humanity is only a shell
for the beast
Man can no more stop warring,
than a lion can cease feeding
on warm, bloody carcass
It is in us;
We are by nature
We are filled with horrors, not hopefulness
Yet we pray to a fiction
envision a mirage
and stand on wishes...
avoiding the newspapers
or a mirror
The notion of chaos rules us,
like lunar pull
or roadside carnageChange or enlightenment?
It's cruelty, denial, a joke
To be lulled into a sickness of passivity
is to fall prey to the predators--
their trap so insidiously based on
convincing the world that there is no trap
(Convince us there is goodness
wait to see how things play out
trust in the ether
don't lower yourself by fighting back;)
and from the shadows they pounce and destroy
The most beguiling and convincing of smiles
hide the sharpest claws and deadliest fangs
Woundedness is not
necessary to habituate.
and hurt will quickly vanish.