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thepagemage
Here, Home, and everywhere in between
bel1986
ceramics by isabel
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a woman's body is the epitome of art; a sculpture of the universe.
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vigilance
Smiling at me, are you
The bones of your face pose a struggle to interpret
Flesh riddled with misapprehension
Aastha
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I was born in the land of red
Soiled my hands in the sands of Syria
My blinded eyes can only see the light
Heaven is true for me.
I was born in the inferno of waste
To the Gates of Gehenna, Indonesia
In this burning world I feel hunger no more
Heaven is true for me.
I was born in a paradise
Sold my soul to the welfare state
I'd never give up my plastic world
Heaven is true for me.
- Bird of Pride
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By your command
Bright-headed warrior,
You have invaded my dream;
Usurped my right of self-government
And turned me a follower;
The smitten witness to your glory,
Merely, yet verily
Revivified in primal energy, pulsating;
Jolts of electricity,
Overwhelming, overthrowing;
Awe replacing haphazard pro-activity.
Let eyes gleam like mere bystander’s
To forever seek and find you
Sparkling at the front-line of my desires,
Where you write your legacy
In my dust-ridden book of want,
Slammed open in pristine creamy pages
On the altar of exhilaration;
Yearning.
Each kiss like an attack
At the first light of dawn
When the fog of war dissolves
And equal armies size each other up
Whilst their commanders are smiling
In the knowing this clash will resonate
Throughout the all of eternity
In the clamor of shields bashing, tearing,
In the primal rumbling of walls crumbling.
Then, I will come and find you;
When you have the blood pumping hot
In the wails of broken hearts,
Gushing.
I will march between our faltering armies,
Have you unsheathe my sword
In predestined notions I would rather kiss
Than slit your throat.
—
29-4-2020, M.A. Tempels © “… an interpretation of a dream.”
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