The Cologne That Got You Excited

You flutter

With the least bit of worry

And I’m weak-willed


They expressed midnight with showers of orgasms.

I came on top of my tarot cards

And I saw the sharpest of reds.

Sigils that I marked you with

And your pussy tastes like the medicine I need.

Bitter sweet

And possibilities of

Of Children

We smoke till our lungs can’t carry the weight of our Ashes.

I meditate in the thorns of your pubic hair.

My head has a white hat and your breasts talk to me in sign language.

The warmth of your hands remind me of a purple color.

Let’s rest here on the pavement like beggars as we are crowned by the pirouettes of hungry moths.

I wish light to all

Also heart disease

Melt cheese with your mouth

And smell this cologne

Every breath is a sharp draw

Of the swords in the heart.

If this doesn’t make you hard nothing will.

(C) A.R. Minhas 2019


“The High Priestess” – (Poetry/ Artwork for Sale)

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I’m surrounded by mystical faces

“Great Simurgh protect me in your wings!”

Shaped like eyes

Pupils dilate like solar flares.

Your tachyons are showing.

I masturbate to activate the sigil

Cum to the sound of a Hummingbird heartbeat

Vision of Cicadas

Revisit in that chamber

You tell your greatest lies in small truths

And your skin feels familiar

Stale smoke and ancient car smell.

High priestess, I came to you that night when I wanted to summon Mercury.

And your lips tasted like strawberry, and I know about your charred lungs.

And we remain sweet like secrets to each other.

(C) A.R. Minhas 2019

Goddess Sativa

She told me, and I didn’t believe her

“Use teeth next time”

Just to hurt more.

A heart doesn’t want to be sober

Like a trail of swollen lights

Blaspheming moths


Masturbating to their own destruction.

You hear the ventilation buzzing

A stutter of cicadas

Stroking to their vibrations

And I cum a purple substance

Goddess Sativa floating in my throat.

The stickiness of thought,

And a centipede spirals into my ear.

It whispers–

“I have stories about the crawl space in your mind that you don’t want to talk about.”

And then I laugh.

I laugh because it doesn’t mean anything.

And I should’ve believed her.

I don’t want to be sober.

I only want to worship you.

(c) A.R. Minhas 2019

Weird Eyes

If you had loved me hard enough

“Don’t say those words like an afterthought.”

I burn that flower at night time

The urgency of this message

I’m in love with being myself

Vaseline love,

Apply lotion to a dry heart.

See it through.

Evidence of bubblegum


Say the word I’m there.

Wax spilt on black marble.

“You came with thundering applause.”

And I burst into you…


Wide Eyed, weird eyes


A gaggle of loud noises

Beautifying the porch

Cigarette bodies hidden


Neon smoke

Up Above

My nose throbs for your loins

Teeth willing to pierce through


And then flesh

Blood caramel

Dripping from your lips.

I lay my head down

A disembodied voice

“Nostalgia keeps me alive.”

(c) A.R. Minhas 2019


Can you understand me?

‘Milk spilt in the hall.’

Dionysus cried himself to sleep.

Roses burning with a magnifying glass.

Melted sugar.

Come to the blue party.

Serotonin for you, and the light fades.

‘The head line dips to Luna.’

My delusions are mine to keep.

Share the kiss, never fall in Love.
Some people are blessed to be alone.

(c) A.R. Minhas 2019

And it gets Weirder


Don’t you think it’s weird?

That the color is red

And its redness depends on how you see it?


Weirdness                              Compounds

(Entropy of life)



I have found that facts don’t surprise me anymore

I believe that anything is possible

And no one is genuinely concerned about anything



Your pretend outrage


When I held your hand



Like a defanged snake

The thighs were another matter


And the kiss between them

“Made you blue didn’t I?”


I felt your petals soft as melting ice cream

“It’s the thirst after, that gets in the way.”


The bite pressure has to be just right

A mold for a dangerous mouth

Belching fire and blood


Gums giving up because of a recession

The longing for unrequited Vitamin C


“I can make my fingers dance.”

Inverting them in the right places.


So you see them in the mirror

And it gets weirder

I do a very good impression of me.


Scratch marks and all

Eyes in the opposite direction

            I’m still

It’s getting weirder

                                                                     And I can still surprise myself.


It gets weirder


and I feel myself changing


And I’m still motionless


Ear Cartilages drooping on foreshortened peaks of wisdom

Ballooning Belly Button

And an ironic short temper


It’s a strange day


Just to be alive

Like always.





© A.R. Minhas 2016



You have become an event in my life that I can’t escape from

 And all the paths, skies, and clouds

Lead to you

 Droplets in my eye

My skin

 My thirst

And you have become a breath that I can’t exhale from

So I celebrate you

Douse you with wine

Crown you with Paper Laurels

The                       Baptism                    has            begun


  My Pieceofthemoon!

And I lie waiting…                    In your embrace


               My sweet






© A.R. Minhas 2016


In our own self

A Schism                                                                                  Flight

Of A Parting

Our Earthly Domain…

Overflowing Hymens                            Scarlet Partitions

Curlicues of hair

Cartilages elongate and curve                              Upon

Sigils of Dynamic Twilight                      Blowing the Aerosol

Afternoons of portentous ice                 Looping threads


Of blackened forelocks                          Ashened

Ejaculation of viscous Orange

 Drift in, Glaze over

Carapace of hardened

Shallow blue &                                                              Youthful Longings

Irises of Almond ponds                                                Paddling with knotted feet

Air hands,                                                     Charged                                                                                                       Ovular lineage                                follicles                                     &                            Highway of beauty spots…

Electrocuted by wavy manes…                                                                                                               Thick separation of brows

Stranded Spirits                                     Angelic kissing

rusted scabs left behind on Tanned skin                         Bushels of Endocrine, Moused hearts smothering

Ambergris Flower whirling with

Jasmines                                               Eternal fragrance of this

Cosmic expanse                                    Partial suffering, melody of wrists

You appear


Our Nubile Goddess!

© A.R. Minhas 2016

Depart- IV

Ours is a body

“Aura of Flowers”




Scabbed                                                                        Petals


Stemmed                                                                      With                                                  Moistened



Our                                                                          iridescent                                                  Body



Folding                                                                         Earthly





Out of






Sap-milk                                   Cupped

From her





& Sugar Lumps


Brilliantine Waves












Our Ether…                                         Motionless        Lovers


Our Body…





© A.R. Minhas 2016

…I am whatever you left with me.

Passing on glass fields,

Memories of a past life



And then buried

                                                                              In two coats of repressed paints


A                computerized                   voice                                           calls out to the sea


Serpentine crates

With girders like large faces



In utter disregard of what is said

“Do you know how far the willows will droop on pavements previously traveled?”


Neither do I and that is                                                          why I ask questions


                                                  Nostalgia             will be the death of us all!

Remembering what it means to be alive…helps



Sometimes, not all the time though


Simple truths          can’t lie

When faced with adversity

I turn the other                                          cheek


Insurmountable hips

My indifference                                                is like the rising water


It envelopes and soothes the fishy part of myself


Do you feel the vein?

A needle helps me eliminate all pretense of feeling


So this bulbous feeling                               can’t take an inch from me



Predisposed to….

Of whatever I’m used to

And whatever you will provide


Nerve endings sever flighty half-measure


You’re Quarter Drawn


And pavements are spilled with amorphous shapes


The city is like a never ending shape

And I’m it’s homeless

And I’ll wear your pink pants                                        stained with self-consciousness
And I’ll take your pixelated image

But I won’t swirl in its composition


Let the fat warm you, gristle of blankets

And you drink your lemoned iced tea
And I’ll be at your curved thighs

Waiting for whatever is left



…I am whatever you left with me.


© A.R. Minhas 2016