Gerald del Campo
Bio
Gerald Enrique del Campo is a poet, Jungian, philosopher, hermetic magician, shaman, mythologist, author, musician, mead maker, herbalist, foodie, motorcyclist and, all around nice guy.
Stories (10/0)
Another Sad and Bizarre Chapter in Human History
Ever wonder what that might mean: Nothing is true, and everything is permitted? The foundations of society are fragile, and we are the architects of our actions. We must cultivate and care for our civilization and institutions. We must live with our consequences, whether sublime or monstrous.
By Gerald del Campo14 days ago in Potent
Don't Say You Life for Love
Nothing exists between us but smiles hiding the contempt. Frozen flames instead of passion, burning ice, and no regret. Double faces punish and reward while forked tongues tickle and sting, anticipating torment that only cruelty brings.
By Gerald del Campo17 days ago in Poets
Goodbye Bohemia
Poets, artists, and other bohemian types sacrifice a standard of living for the non-refundable resource of time for art. They move into a bats-and-rats neighborhood and build up a culture of beautiful things. The gypsies draw in people who, lacking culture and respect, think they can just buy into that vibe. That feeling. That magick that makes the area seem like something out of a book.
By Gerald del Campo24 days ago in Poets
The Art of Mead Making
It is fascinating to watch a person’s face as they drink honey mead for the very first time. They seem as though some part of their brain has been unplugged. All worries, anxieties, and daily activities have been temporarily lifted off their shoulders and put into the proper place to enjoy the sweet nectar. It is not surprising that there is such a surge in popularity and demand today.
By Gerald del Campo24 days ago in Feast
The Elephant In The Room
No one is talking about the elephant in the room. Yesterday, another mass shooting. It’s becoming so common that it doesn’t even phase most of us anymore. Half of the country has normalized it, and the other half is appalled by it.
By Gerald del Campoabout a month ago in The Swamp
Blue Skies White Clouds
Argentina She sat in a dark room all alone, wondering if he'd ever come home again. She's waited so long. He must be so old, the love they took from her in the middle of that night. She lives in the horror of the empty space that can never be filled again.
By Gerald del Campoabout a month ago in Poets
