I am the son of oblivion, i watch as they pass from hand to and down the open pathway. Outside move and don't look back, I have known peace but for a brief moment and i open gates to worlds on a whim. I am both the world wind and the leaves. I enter the cave to find the riches, like 120 glittering jewels. I dance and fraternize with those who have come long before me to get a glimpse of what they know. You ask me who am I to do all of this and reply , it is not important of who i am, the better question is do you know who you are...remember to feel real...be in this world and not of it.

I am simply a boy, nothing more than that. If ever I thought I was something more, I’ve been sadly mistaken. I have never grown up not amidst living or on my own or working. I have as of late been slave to my desires, not for their own sake but to keep at bay the nervous rattling that mocks my every thought. My dreams as of late have been bad and my level of love has been lacking, I am not so much even a dreamer, but a person who wishes he were some where else and masks his desires in the notion of dreaming. I have a abandonment on my hands and have decided on the wrong things. I wish there was no weekend for the weekday is all I need. I feel like I don’t need to figure myself out but to free myself, I need to be somewhere else and maybe someone else, I need nothing of the life I know now. I need to wake up and be somewhere else. Wholly another reality perhaps where things are different, less obligatory, I don’t want to be relied upon for I am not reliable. I am not. Simply put I do the things that come easiest to me, or naturally to me. I would be perfectly fine in nothing I woke up to was familiar to me and even my dwelling was ever so changed. If only worlds worked like that. Where someone could think about where they would wake up tomorrow…or not think and would be in a wholly new place.

I think a few people have posted this, but I doubt its a dead issue or ever will be.  So I'm on Comic Vine and I'm posting in a thread...Shout out to Scifi_Rulez  (I see you homey) ... It's about who the best rapper of all time is and while people are casting their votes one dude comes in and makes a remark about the genre as a whole. And then when asked does he even listen to it , he says "I don't listen to Rap I listen to real music" Then why are you here?
I don't know if it's just me or have other people ever run into this. I notice that female readers might get crap on boards for being in a male dominated medium (Probably for not giving the dudes on there the time of day) or people of color will have to defend characters of color in the face of racist rants in  white dominated medium.  I'm not sure where this comes from with folks who are fans of comics but it's stupid... you yourself are a minority based on what you like (Possibly not in other ways though.) But How are you gonna down or just plain try to insult people who don't fit your homogenous view of what comics or its fans should be, but guess what? Sh!t ain't gonna change. I just had to get that off my chest. Holla

This has bugged me for a while, If Mister Terrfic is the 3rd smartest man, when did DC announce 1 and 2?

“Just a bit farther.” She said. We climbed up a mountain that I had only seen in dreams. Dreams of her, dreams of us as her words played over in my head “If I could be your girl, I’d make you happy.” Was she telling the truth? Was I?

“Here we are.” She helped me up the steep face and onto a flat crown of earth that stood high above her home. She looked back behind us and smiled “She’s out lovely tonight.” She lay her sketch book on the ground, sat down and led me to sit next to her.

“The king of Dreams himself couldn’t have thought up a better night.” Turning toward her we both smiled. She got the reference and it set the night into tune. It was midnight in the desert over looking a thousand lights. In the midst of the night made of dream stuff and happy parlances’ I watched her sketch a landscape that hummed with a thousand dreams.

“If I could make this night light enough to move, I’d take it everywhere we went” I smiled at her and she smiled back as she carved out the houses into a white paper canvas.

I wish I had my guitar right then, I would’ve sung Pachuca Sunrise. Or moonrise in this case, I watched her a beautiful dreamer, my beautiful dreamer….Not really mine…not in this when…but in this where…She sent the perfect line to catch me in a song and take me where ever she wanted.

“I wish I was doing something, I feel like you’re doing all the work.” I shifted over to look at her work.

“You’re here, that’s all I need, and you know that.” She continued sketching. “This night is perfect, Morpheus will be so jealous that he didn’t dream this up first.”

“You got him beat there, Chica.” We stood there for a while longer while she finished up, as the moon moved the shadows of the landscape shifted in a dance, which partners switched almost every hour. I would’ve loved to stay here forever, with her on the this mountain where reality was really fiction and dreams were the only thing that actually existed. When we dreamed real, when now and then, here and there met and had a conversation that woke up the stars and made new suns. Where moons reflected on their old lives and planets an comets slowed down in the Endless transit to catch bits and pieces of a bygone conversation that had happened seven seconds into the future. We we’re dreamers then and we are dreamers now.

We climbed back down the mountain and kissed. Everything that would have should have and could have been was in that kiss. A kiss to make love blush, a kiss to shoot down the stars an make the world reconsider the direction of its orbit. She smiled at me then and looked upon me with ever-hopeful eyes. She had grown, we were here, this was all we could hope for, for the moment at least.

“Goodbye” She said in whispered sensual tones. And then. I woke up. And realized I was no longer in the middle of New York and California. Received her message on my phone. We need to do that again sometime. I smiled and replied continue to dream real chica, continue to dream real.

Having purchased Nelomaxwell's comic and read it over the weekend. I have decided to put up a review here.

So here goes

Hierophants issue 1

Publisher: Nelommaxwell comics

Writer: Ra'chaun Anton Rogers

Art: Kurtis Hamilton

Synopsis: Following the unfortunate shooting of an African American young man by the police, racial tensions are reaching a boiling point in N.Y. Out of this conflict appears the Geist, the city's newest superhero who steps in to intervene before a full on riot begins. This first issue introduces us to the character, his civilian life. The people important to him and his views of the world, while also giving us glimpses of the greater world and legacy at work in the Geist's destiny. In parallel to this we see the personal conflicts experienced by one of the police officers working in the neighborhood where the Geist has suddenly appeared.

Thoughts on the story: This story starts out almost straight into action as the Geist jumps in to stop the riot and then moves along to setting up the character as his personal life. Overall this is a good first issue, it kept me interested the whole read and certainly left plenty of places where to go with future stories. I'd particularly like to see perhaps an issue down the road that focuses almost all on Officer Marcus as I enjoyed this portion of the introductory issue. Pacing of the story is good, narration takes it's time setting up the setting and characters while providing excitement to those interest in action. It leaves us on a cliffhanger that was well presented (thought honestly there, I'm pretty sure I know what's going on but I won't spoil for those that haven't read)

Thoughts on the art: The first thing I can say is that it is unlike almost anything I've read so for, that's a plus. Distinctive art is just another thing to make a good comic. It does look good. That being said, the style works very well for some panels. But others to me had issues with the balance between the casting of the shadows versus illuminated portions. Overall it's a good first impression, but the artist is still in a polishing phase, there's room for improvement but it's a good start.

Final Thoughts: I highly recommend everyone to perchase Nelom's comic. I found it enjoyable and worth the purchase, as a first issue it's got promise to make for a very good on going series. It's a first issue done right, it got me interested right on the first page and made me want to get the second issue.

Final verdict:

Story: 4 out of 5

Art: 3.5 out of 5

Buy this comic!

Hierophants

Writer/Creator Ra'Chaun Rogers is on a mission to share a piece of his mind with the world. In order to do so he's taken his words and scripted the first issue of his comic Hierophants. The world of the book is not unlike our own, there is tension with in Black and Brown communities and the role that the pomice hold in them, the difference is that this world has The Geist as a hero of the people. I spoke with Ra'Chaun about the comic.

Kaos Blac: So what lead you to write this comic?

Ra'Chaun Rogers: I'd been trying to write comics since really elementary school. I've been effectivly scripting comics since Junior year of highschool but my push for this was summer of 2008 where I interned at marvel and saw a mural on a wall with hundreds of characters if not thousands and only 10 of them were black. Most of them I'd never really seen, So I decided that we need some stories about us and we (meaning black people) were the only ones who were going to effectivly tell them.

Kaos Blac: How did you come up with the name behind the book and the concepts?

Art By Kurtis Hamilton

Ra'Chaun Rogers: The name has changed several times it was originally called the Geist but that name was owned by DC comics then it was called Vilgilance but there was another indie comic with that name. So I had been reading Sandman and Clive Barker's Hellbound heart and the word Hierophants kept coming up so I looked up the meaning and it fit. It's essential a being that guides others to something deemed holy or sacred. The concepts were drived from ancinet African spirtiualism, books that my older brother had recommended to me that I'd read and become enamorued by the info I gained from those books were what gave me the imeptus to make this a more supernatual story.

Kaos Blac: Not to let to much of the story slip but this story resonates with the current case of Treyvon Martain, as well as NYC's own stop and frisk policies. Its seems to me that these things always seem to happen in the black community, would you like to share your views on the relationship between Black and Brown communities and the authoritative mishandling of people of these communities in dealing with crime.

Ra'Chaun Rogers: I can yes, I feel we live in an age where "Walking while black/brown" is a crime. There seems to be a lot of "Hey you boy, you must be up to no good" especially in New York city. What gets me is that the people who are the most aggressive when it comes to this are black/brown cops. There is a consensus whether it be unspoken or spoken that Black and Brown Communities have a fear or apprehension toward Authority because of the behavior of said figures in black and brown neighborhoods. We can name the numbers of killings that are public and for everyone there are others that aren't public I had a conversation with my older brother and he said "What if the police are really afraid of us?" to paraphase. So that got me thinking too. My character of Roger Drake is a perfect example of one of the above points. He's torn between where he comes from (Harlem) and where he is (The police force) so his growth and development will show what I think of things related to that.

Kaos Blac: So how many issues are planned to spin your tail of Hierophants? Ra'Chaun Rogers: Right now there a 8 issue scripted. there will be about 3 or 4 seasons each containing 8 issues so about 32 give or take that's if money is coming in to produceand if people support. Heh. Kaos Blac: So you have a long road ahead of you filled with more stories. Cool beans. Well do you have anything else to say about your work in closing?

Ra'Chaun Rogers: Yes, not so much my work but the industry i'm in. I'd like to put out a call to all creators of color, keep doing what your doing and to people of color who want to see people with their faces wearing capes and flying around the city. Remember to support, I love to create but no one can do anything without support.

For more info on Ra'Chaun's work check out: Nelomaxwell.blogspot.com

He had stood on the great hill over looking the Valley and saw the line of fire approaching. For months the rumors a secret invasion force had spread throughout the village as it's leader i was sure to heed any talk of possible threat to his home. There were people who said, this force was organized by people who had once been members of the village, who went to live in the capital and realized that conquering a small hamlet with rich mining resources would gain them favor with the officials there. He knew never to compromise, his ancestors worked this land to long and to hard, under the sun and under the clouds, for it to be given up. His advisers had told him that the village would stand tall and brave this threat, but lately they showed signs of lax, of complacency, bred from his sole tireless effort. Although their were still a few who did what they could,'' his war chieftain Great Thought's heart seemed to have left the fold for one reason or another and now all campaigns and strategies were though up by him. They called him the Black Sea for a reason, he was a well spring of knowledge, did that give them the peace of mind to let him handle everything? His First Maiden, 'Small Heart' was under his tutelage for quite sometime, but she had found love one sun season and was caught in its grips. He could not fault her, ones own life is in fact theirs to live. His sister stood by him when she could, The Maiden of Flowers, Rose Daughter. She was a maiden still pursuing the path of her side of the family, They didn't agree on everything She and Black Sea, but they did believe that the survival of the Village, it's history and legacy was paramount for building a better tomorrow. Even as the capital threatened their way of life, to burn down their great culture center and ruin the minds of their young with a notion that they are nothing more than what the foreign nations say they are. It had been very hard since their Island was taken over by invaders. That was centuries ago, they stole most of the resources the island nation had and corrupted it's people with an idea of inferiority and that the only thing they should be doing is supporting their oppressors propaganda. It sickened Black Sea and he called out to the most high for answers, but knew they were already there within him, left there through divine birth right. "Are you OK?" I turned to see my wife 'True Speech' , she loved her husband and did the best to understand or console his moods, sometimes it was like she took the masculine presence in the relationships. But she understood, his shoulders held a great load and she loved him for it. "I'm fine, I'm just going to the mountain." "If you must." She walked over and kissed him and squeezed his hand. "Be careful." She turned and walked down the hill as the Fire approached, closer and closer. She turned toward the Village. "What shall i tell them?" She asked him as he climbed the mountain. He turned back to her and smiled. "Tell them when I come back down, We shall be ready." He took the mountain, fast stopping at a small hut on an outcropping. Here his confidante resided, she was actually his first protege, A spiritual consort of a kind even though their relationship would never be a physical one. The 'Lady of the Hood' waited for him, in front of her house. She was wrapped in her traditional black robe and hooded.Years before he became leader she was banished from the village for falling in love with another maiden. When he became the chief, he asked her back, however she enjoyed the solitude now. "Hello great king." She embraced him not quite like a lover, but close enough. "Have you prepared it?" he asked

"For you my lord." She directed him inside. When he walked in the sweet smell of jasmine hung in the air. "Let us begin, time is short." He sat down in front of her as she retrieved a jar and dipped her hands in it as he removed his earth tone shirt. She began rubbing the oil in the Jar on his back. As soon as the first explosion came. They were at war, when she was finished she kissed him on both cheeks and hugged him again. As he walked to the door 'True Speech' appeared. "My King come, it is time."

The couple walked down the mountain, going to face an uncertain destiny, If what Lady Hood had done was successful they would be invincible. But there was always doubt, division, fear Laziness. Lady Hood stood watching her friend, and praying for his safe return .

Just encase you see this somewhere else with out the names Nelo Maxwell or Rachuan Rogers on it know it was stolen

I walked, along the riverbanks. I watched the silver sky illuminate its path, or was that the path that illuminated the sky. I was looking for something, waiting, but for what I knew not. However I knew I must wait, there was something here that required patience. I sat down on the muddy bank and looked at the river, after a while a young woman came with a small gleaming jar a little ways down from me. She regarded me with curious eyes, eyes that knew things that I did not. I lie down on the bank and closed my eyes. The voice said 'Wait by the river’. I awoke to the sound of approaching footsteps. I sat up and our eyes met.

"Why are you waiting by the river?" She asked.

"I'm not sure, something told me to wait here, but for what I don't know."

She looked around her and then asked "Would you like some water?" I looked at the river and then back at her. "Sure why not, I'm sure what I’m waiting for will show up." she put down her ornate jar and sat beside me. From a leather bag she pulled out two cups. She poured me a drink and then poured one for herself. As I put the cup to my lips our eyes again met and when I drank I knew what she knew. I saw lifetimes, I had lived and she was in all of them. Friend, Confidante, Partner, Teacher, Lover. At that moment the oddest sensation came over me. "Would I be wrong to kiss you?" I asked. This was not my normal way of doing this, I was never forward. And she replied. "No you wouldn't, you'd be perfectly right." When our lips met I had known intimacy water shared with fish or birds shared with the sky, or flowers shared with the sun. When we stopped I asked her. "Would you mind staying with me for a while until I find what I’m looking for?" She patted my hand and smiled. "Sure, I could use the company." I smiled at her and looked back at the river. "Thank you." she patted my hand again and said " No thank you." The night came cold and deep and l looked at her and asked "Would you like me to keep you warm?" She inched closer to me and said "Let's keep each other warm." I smiled and she smiled back, we slept there that night on the bank. A sleep so peaceful so serene so familiar, that I was sure I had done it many times before and hoped to do it many times again. When the day broke I sat up and stared at the silvery sky, I looked down at my companion and felt something so profound it nearly brought me to tears. Then out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of it. Gleaming in the river, floating slowly down ward. Kissing her on the forehead , I dove head first into the water, this was it I was sure. I grabbed it and found it to be a crown, it was battered and tarnished in some places but it was still a crown, as I began my trek back to the shore I was pulled under, the river had become violent and turbulent I couldn't get to shore, not back to her, until I felt a hand grab mine. I looked up and she said "Come on pull." I struggled against the current and then heaved myself out. The crown and I sprawled on the floor, she helped me up and said "You made it, I knew you would." I gave her a puzzled look as she walked over to the crown and dusted it off. "I have been waiting for this for a long time." She placed it on top of my head. "What do you mean?" I asked as she picked up her jar, reversed it and placed it on top of her head. I had not noticed it before but it appeared to be a crown of sorts like mine. "Come I’ll will explain everything to you once we get home." She laced her fingers in mine and led me to a far structure jutting out of the earth like an odd triangle. "Home?" I said and then looked at her and she at me. and we both remarked "Home."

Shot out to _Mercy for reminding a N!gga he wrote this.

The light of the new sun cut a path across the quilt. They slumbered beneath a dark warm world all their own; such was the womb of love. He opened his eyes recalling the name ‘Black Sea’ from dreams, dreams that reflected his life as it had been and now was. Dreams of past consorts most helpful some harmful but thankful for each one because without them he would not be with her. He looked at her in his arms, her back against his chest, As they lay on their sides completely content after a night of steaming love that cooled in the evening air, cooled, but not extinguished like stars in the night sky. He had felt apprehensive about her at first her nature was secretive and that troubled him until he learned that is was not her intention just her disposition. He had hoped one day to learn all of her secrets and in doing so the nature of the Universe itself. He descended under the covers, tracing small kisses at the small of her back, pulling moan from her lips and causing a quick chill to be sent up her spine. He moved back up and kissed her shoulders, light air string instruments played in the approaching sunlight, as music filled the room. He didn’t want to leave that spot, didn’t need to, his desire to stay there with her in his arms- warm quilt around him and her scent gracing his nostrils- was like that of a drowning man to breath. He smiled at this thought; this was it, the world he had dreamed of as a boy playing adventure with his brother and friends. That never ending world of fantasy and a romance that transcended the language he spoke, where nothing could go wrong and if it did, he could brave it. She rolled over to face him, eyes hazy but loving and kissed him sweetly on the lips, it was the good morning of lovers, a greeting that didn’t need words. It was as if the intent had been passed through the look and the lips. This was magick he thought kissing her back. She laid her head on his chest and kissed his cheek; she then took his hand and laced her fingers between his. He held it up and kissed it and she did the same, this was their ritual, familiar and old but never tiring, never faltering. Soft lyrics filled the room intensifying the feel of warmth, the as a bright sensation expanded in his heart. He looked at her again and kissed her forehead. She looked up smiled and kissed him on the lips again. Grabbing the covers, he enveloped them in the darkness of the womb of love. This was the world between Light and Song, This was the place of peace, of darkness and safety of love and acceptance, passion and joy, The world between Light and Song. This was Heaven and its many layers.