Categories
Poetry

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Its mother’s sound,

The one that makes you

Beat yourself aloud,

Its mother’s sound,

The one that makes you scream out

Loud.

It is mothers sound that makes you love in desire and flow into the deep.

It is mother’s sound that makes you cry and weep.

It is mother’s sound that makes you love in desire,

It is mother’s sound that gives blood out for hire.

It is mother’s sound that makes

Mother does not speak.

She does not breathe.

He does not call.

Mother, unbound.

Will save us all.

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Poetry Uncategorized

A story from M.U.M

The time for waiting was finished. If we waited any longer then our freedom, would be left to the dust mites. Hungry creatures, with no discipline, just like us.

Now that is unfair, of course we had discipline but we had it in all the wrong places and we wanted them, yes them, to help us. They can’t help us. The next time I ask a hungry man, where the buffet is, the next time, I wait for my freedom.

She did wait- she waited until everyone was packed and ready to go. She waited till the storms of Jupiter had calmed and until earth’s moon had a new technologically driven friend. She waited until her heart, gave up and her forever spirit took over and protected of her loved ones. She waited because freedom did not exist for the individual, if it did not exist for the collective.   

AS Logo by ASTRO

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Stories Uncategorized

A family of broken parts came to

“ You never told me, you were human.”

What a shame. You were better than the rest, at the very least. I mean who and what were these beings that wished to contain what was beyond mention. Who can reduce reality into explanation other than the twisted few that were a disruption to themselves and the moons?

They intrigued me. A curiously charismatic intelligent form that created collisions in my spirit and swords in my force field, they are different.  My life force is dependent upon my recognition of tethered beings. Tethered beings understood existence as something to be understood and thus demanded a speed of transmission that reduced nutrients, at an unending speed.  Yet they were different. They are a decisively delicious delectable dream of a human. I wanted to taste, them, feel the space that locked itself into molecules of time and lick the furious knowing of the liminal.

It feels like cosmic moss, ferocious humans, could hypnotise and sedate, the most eternal of beings. I wanted her desperately, my love of her, would keep my destruction at a tepid speed. I will destroy him. I will eat her.  I will break them into what they were before they were flesh and I would salivate on the becoming of her death. They were so many things, yet none were made of my kind.

How strange I could not taste their tethering? Humans are fools, life forms as young as a comet’s landing.

I am first. I am the beings that created what they sense to be home, I am the feeling that exists beyond bone, I am the feeling that knows space as the everything in-between, I am one of the many faces of the unseen. I am revelation. I speak, to what has no voice.

I am first. I am not a being, for this child. I do not know what this child, is but they are human. 

I do not know what they will do, but I will take them in and use them as my tool. I will bring her to completion; I will make him whole, as he asked. They will not live for long, but she will know what it means to be alive. To be human, is to be enclosed and I will spread her along the mountains of crystallised skies. I will make him crumble at the feet of dusk and I will shape them into the heat of life itself.

You never told me, you were human, but for now it does not matter.”

Photography by Michelle Gutiérrez

Categories
Poetry Stories Uncategorized

Courage: Blood Cells are the worst.

I will not tell you the truth. I will not tell you, how hard it is to be courageous. I wont tell you about the long days and broken mornings. I wont tell you about the bleeding nights. I wont tell you about the forgotten moments, I wont tell you about the unforgettable people. I wont tell you about the loss. I wont tell you about the grief.

I wont tell you because there is another truth, that may be more interesting to your eager ears and luscious lips.

The truth is undeniable, unless you desire something else. 

How easily we forget about the aching screams.

Did you?

Blood Cell: Did you hold onto the beauty? That slips beyond memory and clings to the vectors and ventricles that need your attention. Did you?

Body: I lost myself in the desire- I let myself be carried away with the wind and only landed on your shoulder, to tell you the lasting truth.

I will not tell you the truth. I will tell you a predicament of space that leads to the truth, as the truth, only matters to those who let themselves discover the magic that it constrains in its in-between space. The truth cannot be contained in words and neither can it be seen. Actions are seen and some actions cannot be denied. Yet you try.

Actions done alone, last as long as the word freedom. The truth does not last and thus I will not tell you the truth. I will not let you bury it in long days and broken mornings. I will not let you purse your lips in attempt to surrender, to the lasting truth you wish, to speak with the abomination called your tongue. Your truth lasts as long as your heartbeat, but your heart will last forever.

I will wait.

It will not. Instead it will swarm the ground beneath, claiming your ankles and hitting your knees until you bow and surrender to what cannot be seen.

Some never do but time is running out.  

I will tell you the truth, but only because you asked so kindly. 

Be courageous and when you do remember,

It was not the easy option.

End of message.

Categories
Stories

Don’t be frightened of clichés

Introducing Ocean.

 

I love how she holds my hand. Tightening her grasp whenever a strange or peculiar figure wonders past, all figures that hold clean haircuts and ironed trousers are peculiar to her and this made me love her even more.

 

    She holds the same understanding that I have, we are the universe. Everything we wanted and could ever imagine was within our grasp if we just pondered, skipped and speed towards it without hesitation or scepticism. Our dark bodies are not a limitation but a burning unknown that frightened all arenas of the world, even our own kind.

 

This is why, I fell in love with her and this is why she fell in love with herself. Her becoming self was nothing I could hold and my becoming self was nothing she could comprehend. She liked to remind me of this fact whenever she caught my gaze loitering on her lips. She is as mysterious and illusive as the ocean itself. A destination for adventurous explorers and relaxed souls but the only permanent residents are those born in its depths and the dead that found themselves abandoned there. 

 

She is committed and dedicated to understanding me the same way parents hope to love their children better than they were loved. I was her one family, friend and partner in the world and when we walked down the street she made sure I never skittered in front of any passer- by. We deserved as much space as anyone else and we had to begin with a confident unwavering stride.

 

You must live in the world you want and not the world they created. ‘They’ being everyone who was afraid of being the ocean. She had a cliché and motto for everything and could turn almost every sad sensation into a poetic wondering. Of course her own pain was exempt, she is a poet stitched into warrior flesh and she belonged to no one and thus she was everything we had.

Love Always

Ocean

Categories
Poetry

Incomplete Kisses

How was it to be with you?  

    To feel you, touch me, slowly. I had imagined your tenderness and dreamt of your desire. You were sweet, compassionately cultivated in design and texture, a bottomless treasure that I had the opportunity to explore. It was similar to the dimensionality of your soul. Curiously scented and darkly lit.

You let me in.

We moved through embraces, holding each other with a gentle care. I wanted you erotically but we held each other platonically. You wanted to be touched. I wanted to be soothed.

The comfort of my body eased your formative blues while the pleasure of your heart next to mine honeyed my loneliness.  It was perfectly synced. I had been anticipating you for a while and I had wanted you for longer. 

Your physicality changed me.

I wanted you, furiously. Bubbling and churning, I played with the silence that lived in my head. Your presence did not disturb or disrupt but created vibrations. I followed them like trails of breadcrumbs.  I wanted to chase.

I explored the crevices of your words like my own reflection. Succumbing to the gentle waves of your oblivious nature, with a smile. Your fragrance was rare; sentimentally creative, it willed me to stay. Your mind was naïve with all the right curves and honest determination of abstract concepts. I swivelled and danced along the mischievous lines of your smile, like a hungry fox in city streetlights. You were like no other. I wanted to blow through you like a savage, it stalked the back of my mind as swarms of desire swam to the front. I wished to hold the burden of you like a stick of dynamite. Freeing to explore but deadly to engage.  

I put up no fight; I wanted you to taste me, take me.

For a while.

I wanted the grooves of your body to create pulses of pleasure and I wanted the figments of your thrashes to play on my mind, on moon-filled nights. I remember something entirely different now; the soothing nature of your soul and the binding feeling of safety. My natural inclination to hide lasted as long as you wished to seek. There was no game, only sincerity.  I appreciated this more than I could speak.

I wanted you before we met. I was wet.

I had desired you long before my broken heart had left prolific craters to be filled. I had remembered your touch as generous and I wanted to move with your nectar once again. The touch of your desire was used to create a pounding moment of satisfaction. I reached over, playing with your teeth- desiring your bite. It was deeper than I anticipated.

I could feel your sweat and your incessant grinding. You were delicious; my mind stayed clear. I wanted to stay and play, to scream and find new ways of understanding an ancient embrace.

I did not converge with you, my memory perceptions of previous embraces created a dangerous tempest. I relished you, with a ravenous hunger that soothed raw images into condensed visions. I was not afraid. A dangerous desire existed within me; our union tickled it alive – whispering into your ear, I pleaded for you to take me. I begged with an authenticity that was surprising. I could have played with you again, but fear moved along my face and found roots in my eyes. Could you see it?

You were tempting, a rich treat that I was scared to taste further.

Your body became extra-terrestrial, a strange composition of curves and hips. I craved you. Yet my body moved into the shadows and my heart was long gone.

We met again, you were familiar.

I had tasted another that night, but I wanted to feel you.

The silence that you allowed, whispered the unspeakable. Stay.  It was intimate but the shallowness of my fear had begun to settle. You swayed deeper and I ran faster. My mind stretched above, I wanted the distance of pornographic pleasure. I wanted to be held but your arms whispered words of entwinement. The intensity of your grip was charming but further stimulation for my long distance run. My eyes flickered along your face. I wanted to see it all, how your face configured and found pleasure through the movements of our coupling. The undeniable curling of your lips and the flickers of your eyes, I sneaked a peak through the curtains of my unease.

You were a sweet remedy.

A genuine soul is the perfect medicine for a broken heart but you were something else entirely. You were tantalising, unlike the others. I desired to know you. Yet I wished to forget the aroma of your skin along with the embellished crater you left on my heart.

I ran.

I wanted to stay but the pitiful nature of my soul slipped into the day. I played on the goodbye, kissing your joints of motion: your writs, your forehead, your lips, and your hair. Tenderly soothing myself into the goodbye, I fingered your soul to chase. No bite.

Smudges of romanticism hewed your face and smell. You were a reassuring truth that I hoped would fade. I wondered who would take your place.

Photography by Chiara Mancini

Categories
Poetry

A Fruitful Disease

For L.

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I melt.

Forming,

 A motion that is as fluid as it cellular

Tender in moments of exterior fractures,

Density spirals create collisions till arrival.

.

I abide to a form that hold no disguise

I disintegrate. Inside.

Losing self,

Moulds break.

.

Held to entail my frail wells

I become apt in my softness

I become bold.

As notions dissolve

I unfold,

Dispersing to erupt a ceremonious love

That blooms once I understand the complexity of my youth.

Reality is sincere.

Creating fantasies of cosmic parallelity.

I disperse.

.

A figment of possibility,

Is my sanctity

I change to see

That I am as malleable as my beliefs.

As truthful as what cannot be seen.

.

Peculiar feelings are conceived,

When my form is like the sea.

Changing with every gush, of the breeze,

Every tide, a root within me.

.

What is true?

What exists between the old and the new?

A thread .

A souring kiss grounds me to exist.

.

.

Remembering that like chocolate,

I can be as bitter as I am sweet

This is the memory of what it is to be,

A form like me.  

Categories
Stories

The Meeting Plane

Two Lovers

There were two lovers in a field. Holding and wishing to be healed, their kisses turned each other into an eternal bliss. They forget their temporal discipline, and why they had emerged from their previous catalyst.

They needed to find their own reasons to exist. Instead they found material pleasures in each other’s arms. Finding new shapes within their shared dreams, they found a home they did not want to leave. It had enough space for two but before they settled, they had to taste their temporal fruits. They gathered a cosmos of strength, from their longings and desires and let each other go. Trusting that each would find their way home. They were swept into a realm where their hands were no longer intertwined. They fell from their castle of dreams and were swallowed by their fears and beliefs.

They were swept into a realm where their hands were no longer intertwined. They fell from their castle of dreams and were swallowed by their fears and beliefs.

One faced a mountain of gold that stood on volcanic land. It hurled hot rocks and golden prisms made of sand. The other a forest, filled with immortal holes. It smelt like the dreams of prisoners who had hailed sorrow as there tomorrow. They entered and obeyed their own sound, digging for new perceptions and gaining intuitions.

  The first lover listened to the harmony, that puffed and sneaked. It obeyed the whispers of the forest, like its own heartbeat. The holes below stretched to the unsightly dwellings of what did not speak but slithered in the bleakness of being incomplete.

Leaning and peering at what was underneath, the lover was amazed at the beauty. The roots gnarled, wanting to taste what slithered above their crown. The watery nectar of the lover was tempting the forest into a violent kiss. They wished to swallow it whole, feel it revel in the darkness of their rooted soul, a beautiful sight to nourish a daunting night.

    The lover grew to the caws and sub songs of what lived in the trees. It senses soared above and scourged with the roots below.

The souls beneath the forest floor were relentless in their need. They wanted to feel the lover- bleed.

The lover stayed true. It held the power of the florescent full moon with a steady calamity. Silent in its wants, it pushed energy to the roots below, purring promises of safer tomorrows. Grounded in the sorrow of earthly time; they remembered the promise of divine light.  Their lovers voice whispered them home and they were wrapped in the warm velvet, of a caring soul.

Silent in its wants, it pushed energy to the roots below, purring promises of safer tomorrows.

    The lover broke the silence between with the birds and the spirits, creating a conversation between existence and reality. A mysterious insanity that was vulnerable to bloom. They moved slowly through the darkness. Staring at what conversed below; in awe at the beauty, of grief unclothed.

The second lover stood at the edge of ash and gold. The dignity of the mountain was kin to a snake slithering on a lake of ice. A graceful ferocity that was transcendental in disguise.

The realm held a heavenly weight. The lover gave itself to the monsters of the sea, the spirits of the fire and the divinities of the sky. They tried to forget the lover they left behind.

     Blood rushed through their veins as they descended into the deepest roots of their volcanic mind. A tender heart with gentle needs, the lover was like the bee, taking nectar without destroying a petal in the breeze. The lover returned to their core, where space and time were vacuums with open doors. The lover stepped forth.  

The spirits of the mountain filled the lover with a sensual fright. They forget their name and their plight. They began to walk along the spiralling bridge; it was a kaleidoscope of all they held within.

They descended to their darkest rooms, holding onto the mountains truth. Their feet glided along the celestial confirmations, with an ethereal touch. Their eyes were clogged with dust. Eternal aspirations moved through the lover with comet speed. Muted by the divinity of the mountain, appearance became a fickle illusion of light. The lover stalked the witching fortresses of dimensions with watchful eyes.

   An essence penetrated the lover like knives of ice; it dissected its temporal disguise. The lover became a roaming mind. In their chambers they planted seeds of perpetual truth. A cemetery with an angelic grace became a garden of youth. The lover stood at the mountain peak engrossed by the booming horizon. Violet hues with golden tones expanded and expressed humility to the forest below and the fire beneath. The lover stood, quietly, in peace.

The lover became a roaming mind. In their chambers they planted seeds of perpetual truth. A cemetery with an angelic grace became a garden of youth.

   Yet a ghost of temporal proportions sang to be free. They breathed a silent promise into the clouds and hoped the breeze would return the key so they could dismount. A statuesque form made of two heads and three eyes was the lover’s new disguise. They closed their eyes and jumped from the heavenly view, landing into an embrace, that made them understand the beauty of two.

Twilight shined through their embrace and the evolving sunrise lay above there composing temporal threads. Their entwined souls had bloomed a new home. Their kisses were the cool breeze, pulsing alongside the lava lakes, bursting to be set free.

The lovers became growth and peace; always finding new ways to meet. Never leaving each others side, they found spirits and forms to soothe and grow. Each lover had passed through, to see that faith in the unknown was the only true home. 

Categories
Poetry

Smiles Guaranteed

A taste. A flavour.

A passing glint,

Complexity mingles

The pleasure, the desperation,

Tingles.

 

You appoint the giver of youth.

You need, the delight,

Its momentary flight,

Over to soon.

Nirvana in taste, marvellous trice,

The giggles ripple, plentiful,

In truth.

 

Beauty leaves.

Too hungry, you consume.

 

The cracklings of bones,

 You moan.

Its ambiguity is its true shape-

Held, but never in place,

It desires. It wants.  

To be moved, with licks, of willed freedom.

It rolls to its inevitable end.

Temporality is true clarity.

Hysteria and folly, in the summers haze,

The winter’s pleasure and a spring treat,

It moves quickly,

I forget my place, as ice cream rolls down my fingers and I lick it away.

Art work by @lumchen