A Room Full of Paintings

My Artwork Collage

I’m surrounded by all of you

The paintings that I don’t understand.

The paintings that you keep forcing down my head.

“What was your earliest memory?”

I was on a boat.

A net sank deep into the dark water,

And blood-red crabs emerged.

I said that, and a box full of change fell.

They echoed across the hallway.

“Sounds like Swedish wood.”

And we continue to miscommunicate.

The woman that is behind the painting

Blue and green, patterns of zygotes

Your eye keeps following me.

Your eye makes me hard and makes me desire death.

Curving a sickle to tear open guts.

Sun and steel, the body mimicking desire.

And I can’t stop thinking

What your eyes see, and if they are dilating because of me.

Are there any paintings left for us to Eat?

© A.R. Minhas 2018

My Artwork And What It Means To Me

Hey Guys,

I’m really happy to share my artwork with all of you. I usually make my paintings on my phone, which sometimes can be challenging and although it takes a longtime, I’m finding the process a lot more rewarding and creatively stimulating.

I don’t like to say what my art is about but if anything is about the connection between sex and spirituality. A bit like my poetry and prose. I like to think of it as ‘Sexual Mysticism’ (If that term even exists). As for the eyes, I don’t know why but I’m obsessed in making them.

I wanted to rant a little bit with this post because lately I feel, for some reason, sex has become a taboo subject; although, it’s the single most life affirming thing you can do in your life. This has been frustrating for me lately because I’ve tried promoting my art on other social media platforms but they have rejected my request. It’s really annoying because I’m not posting porn, the nudity is meant to have a message. It’s not meant for instant gratification or objectification, it’s meant to make you think. and in that respect I need your help.

If you like my art, if you understand my message and my true intentions; please, help me in promoting my art and supporting me. If you go onto the links below you can get T-shirts, hoodies, phone cases and stickers with my artwork on it. The links, further down, connected you where you can get my Canvas Paintings. So you can have my paintings in your home, that is if you think there good enough. If you can’t buy, please spread the word to others. Anyway, thank you for all that you’ve done. I appreciate the support.

Shop: https://www.redbubble.com/people/arminhas?ref=more_work_artist_title_name&asc=u

“Girl with flowers

flower Girl full napa

“Nighting Sings”

Nightingale 2 Sings.png

Woman in the Cosmos”

Locust Universe (Close up)

“Simurgh”

Simurgh (A.R. Minhas)

Love Bird

You flutter away from my hands

Our disentanglement is what follows

Your Ovum smells especially fertile today

An ancient jug in an opportunistic thrift store

The old wood varnish

And cosmic webs

It’s summer

The blue of a past life

And I’m waiting to be flooded with outrageous fortune

You wear my cum better than a tank top

And I’m searching for that perfect spot between your blatant thighs

To land perfectly

With orgasmic precision

An orange peel wasted

A combination of words that describe the feeling:

“I’m experiencing an Inconvenient Catalytic Exteriorization Phenomenon”

If I could rub your lips I can hear your pain

You tumble down the stairs

And I’ve lost faith in my unconsciousness

And that small, pink bird with green breast flies away

Always elusive to my charms.

© A.R. Minhas 2018

Woman, Mirror & Eyes

Woman, your beauty is divine

I can only recreate it in my hands

Crooked

My thoughts

Come

 

From                            Floating orgasms

 

The pleasure principles

Your paleness speaks

 

Volumes

 

And I didn’t hear a thing

Your eyes stare at me

Or am I even here?

 

I finger them

And you’re enucleated

 

You see from below

There’s nothing above it

 

And if you can

 

You’re reading too much into it

And you smoke too much

 

Lungs turn corrosive blue

And if I turn to hold you close

 

Escape into the mirror

 

Dissipate in your reflection

 

 

You can’t hold onto what can never be…

 

© A.R. Minhas 2018

Become a Simurgh

I feel distant again

It started when I desired to be desired

 

And no one has time to waste

 

I became a Simurgh

Soaring on top of a digital wasteland

 

You can keep your trypophobic flowers

I only smell the sweet pheromones of death

 

Did you hear the outrageous music?

 

It was bright red, like a Sun that gives everything but receives nothing

 

I became a Simurgh again

Because they never rest on the ground

 

They are here only to bring messages

They have no time for your stories

 

Eyes instead of feathers to observe

Not to live

 

There is no living here

 

Only beginnings and Ends

 

The middle is soft and silly

 

Become a Simurgh

 

And leap over the earthly spikes

 

And escape your desire to be loved

 

These are trivial things

 

Become a Simurgh

 

So becoming something doesn’t matter anymore.

 

© A.R. Minhas 2018

Blackholes

I’m sailing a ship in space,

Because I want to be left alone.

Everyone told me I will drown in the moon.

 

And I’m ok with that.

 

As long as I can have my smoke on that secret porch,

As long as I can feel the sweet comfort of a dark chocolate cake that was left over,

I sometimes imagine your blood is its icing.

I’m colonizing the stars,

Repopulating them with your memories.

At the bottom of the ocean

Pressure conforms—cracking skulls

The sound of opening a can of coke

“Come share with me,”

I’m spilling purple flowers everywhere

Can you imagine a gesture of love drifting alone in space?

 

So peaceful.

At the bottom of the ocean.

Living in Atlantis.

Imaginary like heaven,

All the pain disappears.

Like a memory of that light that was there once,

Like a memory of oxygen…

Everything fades to zero-calories of nothingness.

 

My lungs grow heavy with sulfates

Why don’t you just die here?

“This is a good spot,”

The black hole is right above my head.

 

© A.R. Minhas 2018

I’m Standing Still

I’m standing still

You keep moving on

In my artificial drunkenness

 

I smell the sweet taste of death.

 

Non-existent comforter

 

Wrapped in your left breast

 

Milk gets everywhere

Spilled on afternoon tea

 

Green as you were

 

I’m left pale and broken.

 

“Where is my womb?”

 

I’m left to wonder how cruel I can get

Have you seen my torture lungs?

 

Bronchials inflammed

Shooting with nerves

 

I want to share my fluids.

But not at the price of my company

 

I’m better standing here.

And you all the way there.

 

Our spikes are meant to stab

No comfort in human touch

 

The digital release of my soul.

 

I’ll impregnate you with my thoughts,

Abort me later.

 

You can offer me comfort from the other end of the world

I don’t want your closeness

 

The messiness of attachment

I can only offer you mind-numbing cliches.

 

There is no warmth left anymore

My body is cold

And your hands

Don’t resemble a soul mate.

 

 

©  A.R. Minhas 2018

Deeper Than Dreaming

The waters re-appear

Drowning imagination in salty froth

As the world strangles his neck, he felt his teeth fall,

Below the abyss of the waking world— like notes from the past

Images left on the canvas

“Don’t paint them again!”

 

I wander now on the boat made of rubber tires

Using broken hands to steer

The stiffness points north

“I have no intentions of going on journeys anymore.

Let’s dream to wander aimlessly.”

 

Inner eyes seeing through the body

But there are no landmarks or memories to possess

 

Everything I was once

 

Gone

Left only with the finding of himself

 

With fluidity, he soothes his urges,

But now the tempest has risen again

Nostrils contracting with the heavy scent of turpentine

Knowing the power over him is held by the blueness of the past

 

But the crippled sailors’ journey is meaningless

At the same time, the boat is only directed by an easterly breeze;

Reflected by Narcissus

 

Lip-syncing Queen of wands I found in that forgotten deck

I don’t fear the tides

Like towers crashing down

 

But even at the edge of this precipice, I can’t escape my body

Frozen by guilt and sheltered by the warmth of regrets

 

 

I am the only thing that survived the end of the world

Now the sea-serpent emerges from within

He rises                                   Spiraling like minarets

 

It was the snake that eats itself eternally

It hissed so he could bow his head

 

It proceeded to cannibalize itself

As the sailor continued on

 

 

There was still no sign of land

But the air had eroded a smile on his face.

 

© A.R Minhas 2018

Year of Regret

Raw silk, pure power

I feel the anger of drunk drivers passing by

 

She undresses in that winter moon

I lay naked next to you, and I feel you in heat

“Taste it, spit the seeds”

 

I’m a meat eater, but I’ll promise to drink more cranberry juice

And I promise

I won’t fall in love again

You saw what happened last time?

 

Coughed up a lung in love

Footed the bill

And my thoughts have become more bureaucratic

I know exactly what forms to fill out

 

Replacement heart on the way

Plus shipping and handling

 

 

I promise I don’t need anyone

You can ask my dreams

You can ask my bank account

And my investments are doing well too

 

Painting pictures of zero balances on my credit card

Could you imagine?

If you never made mistakes

 

Protein shake diets

I’m taking care of myself

And I don’t need anyone

 

Even if your touch leads to those special endorphins

It’s ok

 

There’s a new year coming up

And I’m sorry for repeating

But there won’t be any regrets anymore.

 

© A.R. Minhas 2017

Writing In Silence

You ask me why I write

And I tell you because I can’t communicate with humans

Just ask them

They make me feel alienated

Like an astronaut’s outstretched hand and no one to hold on to

 

My messages are to be delivered in words

So they create explosions of memories

So you can see me as I am

 

I’m trying to reach out here

Meet me halfway

Maybe meet me at Mars

Where there was once water

Now only red and nakedness

 

I wish you had x-ray vision so you can see the playful nature of my soul

I’m not serious all the time

I hate being serious all the time

It’s the job that gets to me

Meet me at the bar on mars

Let’s drink

Screwdrivers to loosen the tongue

Flush out the noose of my stomach

 

I want to be inside of you

The way you sit in that chair

I see the spark of your eye through your legs

Glittering breasts and your perfume filled with animal pheromones

Your orange lips

That ripe eye slit

I want to penetrate it

I want to see what you see

 

Open your pussy

So I can eat you from the inside

And when I come

Don’t get blinded by the light

 

I’m here because I’m lonely.

 

 

© A.R. Minhas 2017