Prose Videos

HTML clipboardMusic: Wonderland - The Mummers Black Eye - Derek Webb Our World - Rob Blackledge Catch And Weave - Lisa Bianco Lonely Like America - Martyn Joseph Superhero - Candye Kane Big Mouth - Mike Zito Steal Me Away - Ana Popovic The Great Unknown - Caroline Herring Poetry/Music: Streets - Martyn Joseph and Stewart Henderson

Jake Witmer is from Alaska USA, currently living in Illinois USA. He s a member of the Libertarian Party, and an activist. The main thing he does in his activism is educating jurors on how to be better jurors by passing out information pamphlets to them letting them know that it s not only ok decent, it s their duty to decent when a defendant is being charged under a bad law. This is something that could easily serve as an incremental step toward a voluntary society, one in which there s no government, no corporations, no more tyranny. Jake delves deep into the history of the jury system going all the way back to Britain, and how it was ruined in America when the system of Voider started. Jake also delves into other fascinating topics as well. This program is approximately 3 hours, and 10 minutes.

rosa prosa ou prosa rosa ? ou as duas ???

Current issues affecting labor unions and workers in Ohio and Central Ohio, with Service Employees International Union (SEIU) District 1199 President Becky Williams, and Ohio AFL-CIO President and Ohio Association of Public School Employees Executive Director Joseph Rugola. Recorded September 8, 2009.

Dance therapy - LYRICS: Arriving in the dance hall. Above, beneath and around my skin - the movement within + the music without. Flow. Flowing with the barefoot sounds of the beating drums. Flowing with the runaway flutes. Arms wave. Waves Armed. Waving from the shoulder to the finger tips. Pulsating with the drums, flowing with the bass. Spine now slowly wakes to the sounds, to the sounds of joy flowing through my arms. Feeling the music deep in my chest, my spine creeps around, circling itself while my back tries to keep up. Not to be left behind, a snakey shakey force enters my hips, twisting them slowly, opposing the spinal movement in a teasing and respectful flow. The feet and my head have now picked up a background wail of another voice. They dance together, moving to the guidance of that soulfully long sound. Breath flows through to all the new spaces made in my neck and feet. Hips and thighs rejoicing with a rush of oxygen and life force, celebrating to the music. Stress flows away, dances away, melts away. Snapping Unhooking Unlatching These sore joints of mine quickly and easily open up, becoming vulnerable to these faraway voices, teasing the stiffness out. My body in child like anticipation for the freedom to come, the freedom of movement The unhindered breath and joy rushing through my veins, a few moments ahead of my vibrating pulse. Smiling eyes, laughing cheeks, mischievous lips all join the joy. Breathe deeper and wider. Sweat now forming small dew drops on this morning lawn of my skin. The stirring of new spaces, of muscles and joints I haven't seen in years, like long lost and now found sandbox playmates. Wait! A thought appears, "Is this good for me?" This joy and life I feel are answer enough to that nagging mental question, masquerading as a caring friend. I know that wolf is the perfectionist inside. Ignoring thoughts, I just become aware of two things - my body and the musical vibrations that are flooding each atom of my existence and instigating excitement and freedom from within- like some underground rebel freedom fighter. The music starts to stir up some emotions and feelings that have been selfishly clenched deep in my muscles. A strain of sadness appears in the midst of this joyous dance, and I smile at it. Inviting it to stay and enjoy the celebration in silence. Expressed in movement through my body, the sadness has its moment of fame. Soon, it passes, leaving more freedom. Allowing my body to learn more about itself, trusting itself, exploring its boundaries. Allowing my mind to gently nudge awake all repressed emotions and feelings- expressing, releasing, freeing them from self inflicted bondage. The primordial form of expression crosses all borders of time, space, race, species. Allowing integration of mind and body, stirring the soul to awaken to life. Middle of the week. Middle of the afternoon. Sometimes middle of the night. Twirling Twisting Snaking Jump[ing Leaping Shaking my body. Who needs to break out of the chains of our systemic societal repression when freedom can be had in just a few feet of space and for just a song? Working out in a gym? Save it for a rainy day. The sweat pours down the body alive the mind cleared the emotions expressed the joy experienced, still experiencing Still. 5 minutes of stillness, in silence. The music has stopped. The song, sung. Back to my breath. Infinite space and now on to the next moment.

Dance therapy - LYRICS: Arriving in the dance hall. Above, beneath and around my skin - the movement within + the music without. Flow. Flowing with the barefoot sounds of the beating drums. Flowing with the runaway flutes. Arms wave. Waves Armed. Waving from the shoulder to the finger tips. Pulsating with the drums, flowing with the bass. Spine now slowly wakes to the sounds, to the sounds of joy flowing through my arms. Feeling the music deep in my chest, my spine creeps around, circling itself while my back tries to keep up. Not to be left behind, a snakey shakey force enters my hips, twisting them slowly, opposing the spinal movement in a teasing and respectful flow. The feet and my head have now picked up a background wail of another voice. They dance together, moving to the guidance of that soulfully long sound. Breath flows through to all the new spaces made in my neck and feet. Hips and thighs rejoicing with a rush of oxygen and life force, celebrating to the music. Stress flows away, dances away, melts away. Snapping Unhooking Unlatching These sore joints of mine quickly and easily open up, becoming vulnerable to these faraway voices, teasing the stiffness out. My body in child like anticipation for the freedom to come, the freedom of movement The unhindered breath and joy rushing through my veins, a few moments ahead of my vibrating pulse. Smiling eyes, laughing cheeks, mischievous lips all join the joy. Breathe deeper and wider. Sweat now forming small dew drops on this morning lawn of my skin. The stirring of new spaces, of muscles and joints I haven't seen in years, like long lost and now found sandbox playmates. Wait! A thought appears, Is this good for me? This joy and life I feel are answer enough to that nagging mental question, masquerading as a caring friend. I know that wolf is the perfectionist inside. Ignoring thoughts, I just become aware of two things - my body and the musical vibrations that are flooding each atom of my existence and instigating excitement and freedom from ...Author: vidya_tv Tags: Dance Free Form Movement Body Emotion Release Therapy Poetry Prose Narration Posted: 25 August 2009 Rating: 0.0 Votes: 0

I did this poem on Broadway and since Michael's death people have been asking me to perform it again. I decided to make a video...well...lemme stop explaining. Here is the poem everyone is requesting...I hope you enjoy.

A short film in prose, narrated by Charles Dickens himself. Well, kind of.

Harold Robbins last wife and confidante Jann Robbins delivers a raw, inside look at the lurid life and times of America s most notorious novelist in her eye-opening memoir, HAROLD AND ME.

A music video about the magic of the word "fin" for bums, tramps, hobos, vagrants, transients, panhandlers, beggars and slackers in Tonopah, Arizona. Music CC "BY" courtesy Kevin MacLeod at Incompetech.com. Distributed by Tubemogul. Payment

Experimental art video. Prose about a dream of self realization, waking kundalini and devolution all taking place in a swanky hotel room full of gypsies, thieves and liars. Distributed by Tubemogul. Payment

Poet's Corner Submission #17: "Work" by Jolie Blond. Poetry for the common man. Inspired by Charles Bukowski. Lived by me. Payment

True Photoshop animated story about lusting after another man's wife. Payment

Song about the odd and unusual events a homeless man sees and hears while living on the street. Written, performed and animated by a disabled veteran living in the Westside Residence Hall homeless veterans shelter in Inglewood, California. Payment