of love and war

To survive  I follow our

paths from the past  that

summon without consent.

There lies your winter coat

where we once lay,

buried below  decaying needles

of a forest floor that smells of pine.

The silence is as hard as pounding hooves

or soft as the moon rising in your

kingdom of stars.

 

Gurkski’s  ” Il me faut t’abandonne”

“Come dusk is when my mind walks out

from where I fence myself in,

my dark room of nightly delights where

I encounter her,  my queen of all things blue

and we fight right from the start

To  make me love her even more.

I place the hands of my heart to gather

my hunting spirit, follow her footprints

into our forests of  love and war.”

( excerpt)

The world is beautiful

The world is beautiful

with its splendor of all kinds of green and the chirping of black-robed  blackbirds groping about, and  sun and moderately cool air, and inconspicious pedestrians, meek traffickers of tobacco and booze. After we make love she must get pretty again, while I prepare dinner, we have it with candles and strings that sing us into a warm and mild night. Other times we go to the theatre, opera, concert, café, end up in bars and into her dreams I tell her the night. What I have to offer to her is stolen from books she could read herself if so inclined. How, I think, can anyone stand the boredom of life undrunk?  She bites my ear, but for how long can she play this game? Along my voice reading her novels she glides over posh and fine accents into dreamlands I hummed to her. And when she awakes again and again, she expects from her lover to tell her, the world is a beautiful place.

That’s easy for me, as easy as clouds rain down and bees fill their honeycombs and inside warm smiles I nakedly linger into our days. We feed us new life and do not fear death but rather what will make us die. I hurt her, she hurts me, we do not abandon each other. Together we stay until cosmic symmetries break up and make the world whole. As if we as lovers never existed, your smell on my linen sails away into and out to this beautiful world

Copyright the author writing as Serge Gurkski

Holly and I were wondering how Man Ray ended up with that name…here’s the answer…

Mystery solved.

Rethinking Life

Man Ray’s family changed their surname to Ray in 1912. Ray was nicknamed Manny but changed his name to Man, and slowly started to use Man RayRay’s father worked in a garment factory. He also owned a small tailoring shop outside his home, enlisting all his children from a tender age.

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We’re Back Party photographs…

Everyone was there and the best part was the poetry slam but Holly was too shy to recite so she just sat in the back snapping her fingers like the old days. ❤

Rethinking Life

Everyone had a wonderful time at the party.  The food was delicious and Holly and Resa’s contributions were greatly appreciated.  Holly gave the chicklets rides on her Harley and they will be talking about that for a very long time.

A tiny pony also gave some of the chicklets rides and the goats were busy taking guests to the Rubber Duck Pond.  There was dancing and chirping and the hatchlings did beautifully on their first time out.  Their poems were lovely and everyone peeped loudly.

The two bats, who arrived as guests, asked if they could live at The Coop.  The answer was yes and everyone was very excited about that.    No one is ever turned away from The Coop.

Today, after breakfast and clean up, the Chicklets will be getting ready for the Big Halloween Party.  Costumes are being made and new games are in the making, as…

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Occultistry

With Mr. Cake’s permission.

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cakeordeathsite

Claude Cahun Claude Cahun

Do I need to spell it out for you?
These words of mine are meant
As a spell neither more or less,
A charm to persuade your sweet self
To surrender in absentia and toto,
Give me the power and I promise,
In fact, swear on all that is unholy
To abuse the privilege you
Have so graciously granted, heedlessly,
Recklessly rushing through all
Of love’s myriad delights and mystery,
Imputing a whole lexicon of desire
In the sections of your shadow
Outlined against the bedroom wall,
In the jutting angles of your legs
For I seek the centre, a still point
Where all yearnings will cease
And desist from transmitting
This urgent ungovernable need
To translate the will divine,
This damnable demonic occultistry
That devours yet is never sated.

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Charles French: What Have We Become?

This appalling action of separating children from mothers and fathers at our southern border must stop now. Please visit the original. Comments closed here.

charles french words reading and writing

I have tried very hard in this blog not to be political. I have extremely strong views, but I have attempted to keep them out of this site. I no longer can.

The United States of America, which has been the beacon of hope to the desperate of the world, now have become the nation that rips children from their parents. What is happening at the southern border is inexcusable. No American, regardless of political leaning, no matter if Democrat, Republic, or Independent, whether liberal, moderate, or conservative,  should accept what our government is doing.

Attorney General Sessions used The Bible to justify these actions. I suggest he actually consider the lesson that Jesus gave in Matthew 19:14 “But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the kingdom of heaven.The action of the government, separating children…

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Via: Tokidoki (Nomad)

 

While Fox (Faux) News (Opinions) reported on Meghan Markle’s off-the-shoulder dress, here’s what actually happened, and matters, in our country (and to the world) this week ~ —————————————————————————————————————————————– Week 82 of this presidency: Experts in authoritarianism advise to keep a list of things subtly changing around you, so you’ll remember. June 9, 2018 https://medium.com/@Amy_Siskind/week-82-experts-in-authoritarianism-advise-to-keep-a-list-of-things-subtly-changing-around-you-so-e77db1301d3b This week […]

via POLITIKS OF GRAFFITI 83: CONTINUING TO DIVIDE THE COUNTRY — TOKIDOKI (NOMAD)