The Great Uproar

The Light Among Other Lights shines down and gathers every willing sound.

Where the soul is taken up; into skies from the majesty is taken aback.

At the Sight of Sights, and the Sound of Sounds, swinging this way at that.

Where the mind gets coated in gold, and sat up high. Among others, awaiting their loved ones inside.

Where the soul gathers with other souls; there is music in the air, and there is, “The Air Most Breathable”, shrouded within this endless lair.

Where for once in your life, free is free with no strings attached.

Like a new man born again, are we happy few free and newly hatched.

Here, there is only light, that shines upon us. There is no darkness, no cold interior, or violence.

Just beauty, in the form of The Ever-Watching Iris.

The Rose of Andromeda (Andromeda’s Rose)

The blackened day was as cold as the ice. The darkest darkness was bitter thrice. Yet she is the sun. She is the sun’s sun for the sun. Over and above me. The dirt and ground was like soot, cruel to the touch.

And her eyes from up above shine down the light in sword-form, to pierce the mud. The trees were just laughing stocks, only I am the jester. My mind was like paper, ripping from ends, and being torn by familiar hands. When andromeda reaches forth, she expands.

When the arrow pierces heart, the feathers on the soul stands. Like a man with a helmet on to block the blow against the mind, my eyes are like two doves escaping the skull, in the name of the seeker of her light.

3 A.M. (When The War Began) (Chronologue Suite Mix)

Hello buds!

Gregory Thomas, Everybody’s Favorite uncle here!

Please enjoy this awesome Chronologue Suite Mix I did of the awesomely talented composer Yu Ya Huang’s 3 A.M.

I edited it to sound like the listener is right in the middle of an intense Avalonic Machine Siege!

Gunfire, and all!

Very emotional tear jerking work indeed, perhaps you will check out my book

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In the year 2257, humanity as we know it is challenged when an AI threat called The Avalon Republic manages to self-replicate itself. By the hand of the insane mechanical overlords, America and the other countries are put to the test as the green eyed apparatus’ hack our AI powered cars and technologies, clone their mechanical militia, and lay siege to our world in their efforts to turn humans into other machines. The Fight War wages as we send forth boots on the ground with our flags swinging through the air in bulk to defend our world. The fate of all existence lies in our hands…Should we fail, all hope will be lost.

Chronologue: Your Invitation into the future!

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Note:
The song is just for creative purposes; the song and effects are not mine, I just mashed them up together.
www.youtube.com/watch?v=jqC0OQZ02AY
www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQn1Ipz1G…zbFqIN2cmq36BQtVO
www.youtube.com/watch?v=3AXENeFFv…mq36BQtVO&index=2
www.youtube.com/watch?v=T9JMGZPXL…mq36BQtVO&index=3

Art Interview~Starring Everybody’s Favorite Uncle, Gregry Thomas and Ms. Ruth!

HEY BUDS!
It’s Everybody’s favorite uncle, Gregory Thomas once more!
Coming back to you dudes and dudettes with yet another interview with the british folk!
Allfm 96.9 The Real Voice of Manchester’s very own Ms. Ruth has invited me to talk art talk with her!
You buds will learn alot this time round!
Thanks again Ms. Ruth for inviting me to the interview! @caramelcharmz
Enjoy buds!

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Interested in my art buds?

I’ve got an etsy right here for you!

My art styles include cubism, and expressionism.

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Looking for my book Chronologue? My buds you can find it here!

Chronologue is available for ebook and paperback purchase on Amazon!

In the year 2257, humanity as we know it is challenged when an AI threat called The Avalon Republic manages to self-replicate itself. By the hand of the insane mechanical overlords, America and the other countries are put to the test as the green eyed apparatus’ hack our AI powered cars and technologies, clone their mechanical militia, and lay siege to our world in their efforts to turn humans into other machines. The Fight War wages as we send forth boots on the ground with our flags swinging through the air in bulk to defend our world. The fate of all existence lies in our hands…Should we fail, all hope will be lost.

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Looking for my artwork?

You can scope me out on Instagram! Most of my artworks are there, and not on Etsy, and so if you happen to see any you like, let me know and we can talk turkey!

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I will not give up on my dreams.

The Elysium Sparkles

God with rainbows, over the skies;

and my eyes–

seeing is believing in this war torn world of mine.

The clouds white, and then suddenly I see The Great Platinum Light.

The light that is brighter than the sun, and–

Whiter than any glowing white.

Like snow, robes are worn, and that’s when the chorus kicks in.

The joy in my heart unlocked by the deeds of Elysium, and the removal of my sins.

When the rainbows start glowing, and the light smiles forth. My mind stuck on misery erases from the deep sorrows–

I feel the warmth of longing harrows.

The Nostalgic Writer

A writer that is virtuous enough, will seem to comfort their readers with a sense of safety and nostalgia, every time they read their work.

The Change of Heart

Two blue eyes of pain, for a delicate flower’s name.

The mind is a cruel game begane, when played on this day.
A warping face of pain, and it is then that you’ll know.
That the beauty before you has let her warm heart, become cold.
Like a meal that turns to stone, so too does the soul.
Like a soldier whose seen innocents die, so too does your mind.
Like when the wine kicks in, into the spirit, and all that’s left is but a drunkard.
The once strong man, now a clumsy oaf.
The same campfire that brought you warmth, is the same that goes cold in the snow.

The Art of Emotion

A stone, still stuck in its ambition. That’s the skin.
The body is the war, and the depths within.
The mind war torn like glass through the flesh; or a sword made from steel headed straight for neck.
The knight on horseback reckoning the wind.
The day the resentment begins, is the hour of sin.
Three birds flap thrice, in search of the night. A war torn pilot and his squad.
A boy and his dog.
The soul and its body.
And what good are eyes that can’t stare into the light?
Blinded by the truth.
The pain is too strong.

And what water is there to drink, without the muscles to swallow your own tears.
Like a stone in the throat, or the truth down a hole.
Like the sum of all fears, or the great unknown.
And what faith was faith, without its faith?
And what escape is escape, without a way to escape? The heart is the heart, even if the heart forgets it once was a heart.

BLACK OUT TUESDAY

The moon goes greyscale on this dystopian day.

I know I come across as a calm, cool, easy going person, but my anger is quite heavy, as I am a passionate person. And as a black man, I find that the racial injustice betweeen whites and blacks is a very difficult topic to discuss, for both me in general, and as those who follow me know, in my writing as well. Today however, I stand in support of Black out Tuesday, and support of justice seeking for George Flyod, and all of the lives of my brothers and sisters taken too soon. Your uncle is here for you, the world is here for you, and the good Lord up above is with us all.

-Sincerely, Everybody’s Favorite Uncle, Gregory Thomas