The stars are different
but for Sirius
How do you find yourself in the night sky?
You look for the brightest star.
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Ash and SnowThe sun goes out
You close the door
And sounds subside
In your dark room
As we collide
Down on the floor
We lay embraced
Cocooned in glue
In your dark room
I lay on you
Like ash on snow
Metamorphosesat first you crawl,
the thoughts that race,
the body slow
and then you stop,
and sleep, and dream,
cocooned in silk,
no thought, no scream
at last... you rise!
into the night
a lunar moth
in search of light
EmptinessI stopped cleaning my room
dust lays everywhere
but I'm confident the void inside me
will suck it all in
and leave my room
Stranger in a strange landa cooked meal in winter,
a warm bed at night,
a child, parent, love,
a home with a chimney,
the fields filled with flowers,
a forest in shade
on a hot summer day,
the silence of sunsets...
I look for their meaning
in books full of wisdom,
but sometimes, out here,
they don’t mean a thing
Babelthe Tower was built
around our senses,
our touch, taste and smell,
the eyes with their lenses
the fall of the Tower
rushed air in our lungs
and brought the delightful
confusion of tongues
rain caught us by surprise
we started running for shelter,
but then you stopped
and, confused, I turned to you...
you gave me one of your big smiles
with your wet hair framing your sweet face...
we had forgotten
that the rain
was just another reason
to take our clothes off
Piano in an empty roomMoving out.
In the living-room, only the grand piano remains,
black and shiny, like an insect
trapped on the ground, one wing extended
as if trying to fly right before death caught up with it.
The sound would be different now
with no furniture around,
no books to soften the notes,
no rug to dampen the low vibrations.
I never learned to play
and now the piano seems to epitomize
the black bulk of my regrets...
On a whim I sit in front of it.
I let my fingers flow as they will,
my mind wonders
and I drift away for a while.
After I don't know how long, I stop.
The sound is different in an empty room...
and with a trace of excitement I realize I had something there.
Later that day, when workers came to pick up the piano, I just sent them away.
"I'm gonna keep it" and didn't back down before their protests.
I will place it in my next apartment,
in an empty room,
so that it sounds different
Metamorphobiait is a wonder all the changes
that one endures in a day
at dawn, in fear, desperation,
then words pull you from the abyss,
your lungs inhale a swift elation,
the eyes perceive a kind of bliss,
then clouds, dark clouds, again in silence
the rain, the wind, the sun again
at last the dark, the taste of violence,
the sensual rhythm of a train
and like emerging as imago
you exchange fear for delight
you are a thing of many faces
depressed by day, a god by night
LiminalSome time ago, when I first started analyzing my art, I saw the metaphors embedded in it, and intuitively refined my way of introducing those metaphors into each new piece.
But I'm starting to realize that maybe I moved away from my original purpose and I've been looking at this too narrowly.
It's not so much about the metaphors...
More importantly it's about those creatures we shall never be and the worlds we can never fully grasp with our minds.
It's about understanding this world for what it is - not in every detail, but in general - and realizing it's not enough, it's never enough.
And then I came to realize something else:
I am not an artist. Or at least it doesn't really mean that much.
What I am trying to do is merely to expand my mind beyond what is. Art is just one of the ways to do this.
I am also not entirely human... I look at myself and I am stretched and d
Defying GravityYou always knew what held me down,
The secret every man chases;
The source of all my frowns
Now, that secret lies, defied,
And I'll remember your faces,
Watching me learn to fly.
Quivering upon wordsLet me taste bartered words
Passed from lips of sly command
Whom give off gaylic cheer
And work with slickest hands
With quick yet unobserved
Graceful nipping mouth
These words run upon my skin
Breaking door from house
Oh now then now then
goes shivers up my spine
ah and look see his heart
it beats faster than even mine!
Truly he is the master
Master of the pulse
Clipping words from his tongue
Which dances and convulse
Upon my own parted lips
Which quivers for his word
Which does more for me
More than those bees and birds.
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^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More