I watched other people build brick homes
and we, we built a straw hut.
Knowing full well it would never stand up
Against the angry hot winds of darkness that would erupt. Continue reading We Were The Wolves
Black glows in the dark
as imitation dry heaves,
leaving guilt on its sleeves
wiping white illness on walls,
kneeling with greed in
its knees, not realizing
where it’s coming from or
the fact that Black is entitled
to no one but Her people.
Black glazed rapture,
painting with glow dripping
from their hands and their
actions before, during & after,
Smearing magic and rhythm
of all motions and nations in
hip revolutions & revelations with
Life at their command.low,
Wait, hold up? Is that a bleeding pussy? Yes, Yes it is! Why? Because she is beautiful.
I created her because I wanted to end the taboo behind anatomy of a woman. Yeah, we bleed, get over it. Our vaginas are more than a sex toy for you to fall into. We create life, we hustle through the pain and get things done. Continue reading Octopussy and why?
Maybe if the universe gave me a chance
or time did, to keep my wheel of life running
my heart would still pray, to time again
to keep the one I love, to hold my hand
by my side, till time does its duty.
I would watch, leaning on his shoulders
generations of the future, spinning galaxies
and turning time around their wrists, running
along the path, that unfolds like a carpet
opening portals to newer, stranger things.
I would curate the memories made, and recover
the ones lost, at times and tides tempestuous
make plaques and statues out of them, and
finally, a temple in which my children would come
and make themselves owners, to these memories, lost.
I would forever, keep doing this, till I’m tired
till my heart is tired, till my soul stretches out
to the golden thread of salvation, weaving
a fabric of age and the final time, shrouded
over what will be left of me, a feeble human body
till I’m contented with what I’ve become, and
slowly disappear like a mirage, fade away, for
the future child to spin my stories someday.
(from ‘MUSINGS OF A SPEARHEAD’- to be published)
No one knows the exact origins of the elders. They preached that they were nature formed as man. “For as long as the Stars have been in the heavens and the waters in the seas, we have been. Just like nature, we will always be.” Continue reading 🌸 HIRAETH pt.2 🌸
I felt myself transcend
to another realm,
void of impulse control.
He teased me
in the cruelest ways,
hitting the spot, Continue reading Primal
We forget the days of
Our ambiguous bodies.
Young frames, stretching
Away from the weight of gravity.
We were aware of neither
Death nor life,
Thus words of dislike
Would not yet cling to us,
We were too young.
Too unaware of the words
If only, for our mind’s sake, Continue reading The Children’s Way
Maa makes a salan for each son
because they like different things
but the beti needs to learn to make her own food
kyun ki uski age pe shaadi aur bachey hotey hain
larka jaan per be jaiy, jaise bi rai
maa ankh band karke osko kabi kuch boley gi nahi
beti aik galti kare
uski izzat zaban per aja ti hai
the sons can go out and party get a girl pregnant
but they’ll still be able to move on and find a good girl to marry
the girl stays out a bit later than 8 pm
might wear a t-shirt,
and the whole mohalla is calling her a slut, saying she’s no longer a virgin
we don’t love our girls as much as our sons
you have failed us girls
us girls are tired of walking on eggshells
of being thrown around, walked all over
and expected to have sabr
kehte hain betiyaan sab se bari rehmat hain
toh aaj hum ko kyun torey ho
Picture Credit: @thepakistanimarthastewart
Now I find myself dancing
to the frantic beat of my heart
at the threshold of judgment
desperate for a figment of
something positive, warm
but realise that I’m shackled
by cynical negations, galore.
Here demons wear masks
of noblemen and kings
and brandish their swords
Continue reading A dance in the dark
Abraham William Onkst, Pennsylvania artist, designer, and creator is having a show on May 11-13th at The Living Gallery Outpost in the east village of NYC (246 East 4th Street New York). There will be original artworks and limited merchandise that will be only available at this event.
Support the Arts!
the memories of him
cling to my skin
heavy & unwilling
full of something
wants a part of
and I find myself
ready to drown him out
with flood water tears
(photo by ahmed ashhaadh via unsplash)
There are many things which go unnoticed and unmentioned around the world. One of these things is the rape culture in India. Recently, young girls, 8 and 9 years of age were raped. It is incredibly heartbreaking news. Below is a link to a petition against child rape. Please sign it. Please, let’s save humanity.
His lies were sweet,
turning my sourness to honey,
he carried the nectar Continue reading A Buzz
He graced me with a perfect smile upon his face
As he placed the most magical kiss lips can taste
Mending all my broken bones together
His presence couldn’t be detained by any weather
All of the bullet wounds surrounding my heart
Reminding me of the way I fell apart
Love will send your mind spiraling in the dark hours of the night
Reminiscing on all of the times you had to put up a fight
Demanding for him to stay
Yet all they tend to do is begin to run away
That is why our magnificent kiss haunts me in my dreams
Sadly love never is the way it seems
As much as I hoped this time would be different
I know deep in my core that it isn’t
I watch as the spot in my driveway remains empty
As you continue to love on plenty
Leaving them wondering deeply in their souls
Why their minds were left souring from their control
They fell for your same tricks
That you applied just as smoothly as the kiss you placed upon my lips
I knew I should of ran from the start
My mother always told me I was smart
I still am baffled in the way you managed to get under my skin
Why do people like you always have to win?
But I have learned my lesson this time around
As the scars you left on me are no longer profound
I will soon be ready to love again
As I no longer view my broken bones as a sin.
She is all the things
that which I am not,
her strength goes well beyond the
limitations of brute force,
where I stop to complain and cry,
I’m not sure if I started this art life at some point or if my life was always like this.
My name is Mayro Toyo, a visual artist. Drawing during my childhood was like a game then becomes a habit that would accompany me for the rest of my life. I always have been curious and would delve into simple things.
Innovating is essential. I work with new materials and techniques frequently; I am in constant development and have a lot of fun in the meantime.
My technique is spontaneous, and the concept is about introversion. It’s alive. I paint mostly people, portraits, identities. It’s human. My art conveys feelings and emotions. I think words are inadequate to explain my art. Art must speak for itself.@mayrotoyoart
I’m trying to silence the voices
that tell me you don’t care.
They ring loudly in my ear.
They shout to me.
They tell me to stop wasting my time.
But I don’t listen.
The Glow- Up
For the past couple of months, I have been racking my brain. I have been trying to figure out who I am. I have been trying to figure out, “What do I offer”? We are brought up thinking we have to “be someone”. Yet, who is this someone? When we become that someone do we get a prize? I don’t know. Maybe I became that someone and hasn’t even realized it yet?
“Pull yourself together,”
an abstract of red hues
and beet purple
crept from my neck, Continue reading Blush by Heather Matthews
She lie on the bed; belly down and naked from head to toe. An ear to the mattress. And an ear to the wind from an open window. Her backside adorned with earned stripes – lightening strikes, winding Redwood roots, umbilical cords etched to her hips. And to his eyes. He dared not guess if the sun was setting or rising. But he knew…that it’s rays were finally learning how to illuminate themselves. Continue reading Rest and Shine