Isolation

How long will you give me the lie?

Is it going to get better?

You told me to live every moment

And yet you steal it away from me

Whenever I’m thinking about you.

If this is what it takes

Then I don’t want to be happy

If it comes at a price.

If you have to pay for other parts separately.

You can keep it,

I rather be alone and miserable

Than make another soul bear my existence.

This ransom of affairs,

My body betrays me as it reaches out

You can’t fight nature.”

And with you

When do you plan on torturing me?

Tentacles laced with spiny roses

It’s ok

My heart has grown in an isolation tank.

It can only imagine possibilities

But it is familiar with the dark

Well-versed with the blackness of the universe.

It will evolve

My heart doesn’t need a body anymore

It just forgets from time to time.

(C) A.R. Minhas

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Nude Mangoes And Lost Things (Poetry & Artwork Available for Sale)

Purchase Art

(c) A.R Minhas 2019




You Needed Me!



A cake of Molten Love
‘Let’s Eat this in Secret’

Neon Lights


And a sublime Blowjob


To the chirping of Morning Birds.



You know me too well

Oh! Stickiness of Mangoes


Their Nudity tip toeing to the past

Trapped between your fingers

And remember how the laugh track started playing?


Reality erased by Mother
She crosses out my words because they weren’t pretty


And the fire starts above your low cut dress,
The Electric blue of
Thighs

Shape this Obsession


“You are as empty as a perfume commercial!”

Collecting scents

and follow me into the Crystal towers.

Life reflected in high places

Throw them away

These memories have mold in them.

(c) A.R. Minhas 2019

The Love I Expected.

I never expected to be loved

There are some shortcomings

And here I am

Still

Stuck in a glue trap

“Flesh imbued with pain.”

Heart doesn’t care anymore,

It barely pumps blood

And I hear it

Function like an abandoned beehive

Dust gets in your eyes

Flecks of honey distributed for hedonism.

And

I stare

Into a white tar pit

Evidence of Red Lipstick on the end of a cigarette butt

Craving for a hit

Nicotine oppression

A dream someone had dreamt before,

But the Queen pushes me away.

“These lungs aren’t going to immolate themselves.”

Ash trapped on my beard

The tower is burning

The entity free falls

No soft landing, tainted by love.

Ribcage is a prison,

And I’ve been institutionalized.

Leave my scrawl marks behind,

I don’t have any good memories to share.

(C) A.R. Minhas 2019

The Magician

New Magician WP(edit)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Artwork Available: https://www.redbubble.com/people/arminhas/works/33499459-the-magician-c-a-r-minhas-2018?asc=u&p=photographic-print

 

By: A.R. Minhas

 

She places the tools on the table

Unsheathe the rose petals

It’s time to use them

 

Droplets of wine that spill from the cup

Your thought pierces me

The Divine spirit soaring like a drone

The mystical explosion will destroy you in the vicinity

 

 

A guide that taps her cigarette

Three times and howl is heard

A burn mark shaped like a pentagram

The hands that show the path

As it was above

So it will be

If you find love, kiss me hard

With the tongue involved

A spiritual virus

 

Recreate me

Eternally

 

Your red robes have been thrown in the forest

 

Be sure your nudity is seen by everyone

And the sigil is magnified

 

A

Voice

Calls

From

Below

The chaos

Is interested in you.

 

© A.R. Minhas 2018

 

New Magician WP(edit)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Artwork Available: https://www.redbubble.com/people/arminhas/works/33499459-the-magician-c-a-r-minhas-2018?asc=u&p=photographic-print

My Artwork And What It Means To Me (Updated)

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 as it takes a long time; however, 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 it’s 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 eyes.

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, connect you to 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 your continued support and I love you all. Thanks.

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

“Girl with flowers

flower Girl full napa

“Nightingale 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