The World Is Beautiful


The world is beautiful with its splendor of all shades of green and the chirping of black-robed  birds groping about and  sun and moderately cool air, the inconspicuous 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 theater, 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 hum 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. We hurt one another but  we do not abandon us. Together we stay until cosmic symmetries break and make the world whole. As if we as lovers never existed. Your scent on my linen sails away into and out of this beautiful world.

Copyright the author writing as Serge Gurkski

Translation to English by Serge Gurkski

Die Welt ist schön…FÜR HOLLY RENE HUNTER)

Die Welt ist schön, sei schön mit ihrem vielerlei Grün, umhertastendem Getschilp der schwarzkuttigen Amseln, ihrer Sonne, ihrem mäßig kühlem Wind, unauffälligen Fußgängern, devoten Schnaps- und Tabakverkäufern. Schön auch wegen der vollen Brüste meiner Geliebten und ihrer Geilheit. Danach muss sie erst wieder schön werden. Ich koche, wir essen, Kerze, Violinen, laue Nacht. Oder: Theater, Oper, Konzert, Café, Kneipe. Ich erkläre, sie träumt, laue Nacht. Es steht, was ich ihr sage, in Büchern. Sie kann lesen, kann Bücher lesen. Könnte. Wie kann man, frag‘ ich mich, ohne Schnaps in dieser schönen Welt ohne Langeweile existieren? Sie beißt mich ins Ohr. Aber wie lange kann sie das durchhalten? In die Nacht gleitet sie an meiner Stimme, die leise aber akzentuiert Schönes, eben: belles lettres, in sie summt, damit sie auf Schallschwingen in ihren Traum schwebt. Und immer erwacht sie und hofft sie, mein schöner Spiegel, dass ich ihr die schöne Welt noch einmal mehr zeige.
Das kann ich wie Wolken regnen und so leicht, wie Bienen Honig in Waben füllen. In ihrer lächelnden Wärme liege ich nackt in den Tag. Wir füttern uns Leben. Zu Scharfes wird nicht serviert. Nicht den Tod, aber was dazu führt ersparen wir uns. Wir muten uns ständig Schmerz zu aber nicht den großen, den Abschied, bis plötzlich ex nihilo Symmetriebrüche die Welt wieder werden ließen. Als wären wir nicht gewesen. Es hing noch ein Geruch von dir und mir im unvertäuten Laken. Das schwob davon. Die Welt ist schön.

copyright the author writing as Serge Gurkski

❤️ Queen of Hearts ❤️

I’m blown away by this gorgeous creation … Don’t miss the awesome art and music at “Queen of Hearts” at Graffiti Lux and More.   I could listen to this music all day…  Check out that motorcycle boot!
Thank you Lovely Resa!

Graffiti Lux Art & More

Holly – House of Heart, this is for you!

A year and a half ago, I went out searching for this mural.

It’s in the area between Queen & King Streets, but I couldn’t find it. There was construction everywhere: demolishment, cranes, scaffolding and I figured, it’s gone!

A couple of weeks ago, I was in in the same area. Construction had evolved. I look down an alley and see this splash of colour.

As I got closer, I thought it’s like Holly.  It’s not just that it’s as pretty as Holly, but it’s the 2 personas, and the blonde and red hair. I draw Holly in 4 characters: Rene Rosso & Princess Blue Holly (both red heads), Art Gowns Model Holly & Boogapony Holly (both shades of blondes).

Then, when I stepped back and looked the entire mural, I realized it was the one I had tried to…

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of Falcons

My animal guide is a Falcon

with   wings spread wide

still I never glide over snow

covered mountains or deserts

come alive with cactus flower

below a sunset fading like

autumns overripe fruit.

Even  in dreams I concede  I am not a bird

but never really earthbound.

Image result for Karol Bak art bird lady

art by Karol Bak

Interlude

In this dream I turn to you and

light my cigarette from the glowing

tip of yours.

I propose we fly away.

Your dark eyes whip my mind

into arousal and your elegant hand

on my thigh turns me soft inside.

Your breathing is a sigh against

my ear that whispers my hair

and crimson lips so near devours

your resistance.

Against waves of joy and sadness

dreams are always what it could

be like.

Suddenly hares chase foxes

and Roebucks hunt hunters and

to shield me from the terror you

hold me within bleak arms.

Related image

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🌹 Rene Rosso 🌹 in Chicago

We’ve got a right to be wrong but with Gorgeous One Eye on the scene
we never are! Catch the models and a Torch song at Resa’s Art Gowns. they are Rocking Chicago!

Art Gowns

Rene Rosso went all out producing her new floral themed revue at the Garfield Park Conservatory. Creative Director,Rebecca Budd was brought in from Vancouver to design a big screen backdrop for the catwalk, and to narrate the event.

“Good Evening Dahlings! I’m thrilled to be here in Chicago with you, and the Art Gowns Models. It’s going to be a spectacular event, filled with Torch Songs, Floral Art Gowns, flowers and sites of Chicago.”

“Take it away, Rebecca!”

Hello, hello! What a wonderful journey we are on! Before we begin, I’d like to send out a special Thank You to the Coop’s Floral Design Chicklets. They’ve done a brilliant job designing and attending to the Floral Art Gowns.

Let’s have big hand for 2 of the Chicklets; Rose and Sunflower! We begin tonight’s fashion show with the one and only Rene Rosso in a roses gown, designed by…

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The Sad Cafe VII

A lovely journey….thank you for taking me along.

Notes From Afar

Don’t go, I plead wordlessly. But I can taste the good-bye on his lips

Marie Lu, Prodigy

Image Source: Pinterest

The Sad Café VII

A love story by Holly Hunter and Hyperion Sturm

Common GroundBy Holly HunterThe heart can fall like a suicidespiral down like the shade ofmidnight desertscold as petals on an icy lakea flowing grave of dreamsan echo chamber of painLet my tongue flirt likea butterfly amongwildflowersrather than polish my scarsdebride my wounds.

❂❂❂

From my window, a sliver of the moon casts a haze over the water. I can hear the rush of soft waves. Those creatures beneath the depths, do they sleep, dream? If parted, do they grieve?

Down the street, I can see the lights from an all-night store. A man waits behind the counter. Cautiously he slips his hand under his jacket…

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“I guess the next pandemic is a pandemic of hypocrisy“ — Art of Quotation

Rethinking Life

“I guess the next pandemic is a pandemic of hypocrisy“ David Brooks, journalist, twitter post 9/19/2020, on Mitch McConnell’s (Along with the Republican controlled Senate’s) violation of his fabricated rule – the Senate should not select a Supreme Court Justice in an election year.

“I guess the next pandemic is a pandemic of hypocrisy“ — Art of Quotation

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The Hour Glass

Dip your fingers in oceans of light

tiny moons in outstretched hands

a remembrance of our open palms

sifting through transparent time

powerless to reverse the hours

Nendo's out of the box hourglasses explore time passing

Neruda’s “Ode To Time” (excerpt)

My eyes have burned out in your beauty

but you are my eyes.

I perhaps exhausted your breasts

beneath my kisses but the world knows

your secret splendor is my happiness.

Love, what does it matter that time,

the very time that raised two flames,

two waving heads of wheat,

my body and your gentleness,

tomorrow will hold them safe