Neoartists weblog

Resting in the shade of that ancient tree,
which had shaded both Christian and Moor.
Transparent grey blue shadows, roaming free
Dappled shimmering shapes, lazily explore

Every dusty corner of that antique place.
Beyond this welcome shade, heat, vivid light
Expands in all directions through timeless space
That deepens to eternal star splattered night.

Dozing lethargic, soporific aromas flowing,
Invade my idle contemplations, warm citrus
On cooling breeze from tideless sea blowing.
Slipping eager into the realm of Morpheus.

 In the cool stillness of an upstairs room
A radio plays a seductive tango, rising desire
Stifled by languor drifts unstoppable to resume
In daydreams, where wishful passions are afire.

Fantasy merges with reality as drowsy eyes
Close, spirit cedes to that melancholy tune.
Suddenly soul enwrapped, transported flies
To Buenos Aires, dancing under a southern moon.

A thousand points of light fading to infinity.
The moon, a crescent, that borrowed room.
Heady aroma of your youthful femininity
Intoxicates as much as any summer bloom.

Your slip silently to the floor it fell
causing invisible ripples in space
engulfing me in your magic spell.
In that pale luminescence your face
betrays your vulnerable innocence
but curiosity overcomes your coyness,
unrestricted, no thoughts of consequence.

A stalking cat, eager to strike you press
towards me your firm fruit yields willingly.
With no loss of integrity you abandon sense
I drink your sweetness, devouring selfishly.

Hanging etched against the sky intense.
In that instant half way from reality on
The soft edge of insanity mind obliterated
in uncontrolled multicoloured liaison.
And for a blink in time we are regenerated.
Each is merged yet each is intensely alone
With sensations highly concentrated.
Drifting with no care, time is, overthrown.

Mike Weall

death, oh death…
life dying into death.
that black bled bleeding into death,
down, down into the base red root of the chakras.

death dying into life
and in times gone by satisfied and this time not.
and the surging passion of the black bled bleeding moving through,
finding the passion of the base red kundalini
through, unsatisfied, hungry.

into and through the emotions,
into and through the oceanic heart
into and through, into and through, into and through …

until …

the black bled bleeding through the red raw emotions
still hungry
touches, crystic love.

and the passions arising
the emotions bursting
the heart extending
the mind holding
the eye seeing
and the whole being through the black bled bleeding
released,
brought into being through the red raw emotions.

life dying into life.
released and yet held,
held in the passion that so once lost me,
that same releasing-holding passion that now finds
me
through the black bled bleeding.

touched inside and out, held outside and in
and life’s longing for itself found in death.

touched …
seeded by the passion …
called by love …
into and through, into and through, into and through …

birthed. life. still. settling. centred.

calm, calming, calmer, with the black-red passion.

We think we are the being who breathes,
… but we are more like the breath …

We think we are the thinker who thinks,
… but we are more the thought …

We think we are the singer, the dancer, the musician who plays,
but we are simply the sounds on which those reputations are built

… and sometimes we think we are God,
but we are simply a word on his lips …