I’ve finally setup my Tumblr! Please follow and consider following me on other social media as well.

I don’t know why it took me this long but I’ve finally setup my Tumblr account. Please follow

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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)

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

A Being of Beauty

Beauty, I have awoken to you

Weren’t my catcalls enough?

This gentlemen’s club has disciplined me

I’m in the corner crying out for you

And you’re hustling for scratch?

You look sexy even when you’re

Swabbing the disinfectant

Dancing on the golden pole

Strobing sound effects

Twirling like a dervish

Spirituality in your sex revealed

I smell coconut

And your breasts are like industrial bleach

My cum is blessed and your mouth like a receptacle of a blue god.

Gurgling sound of a dishwasher

My sins are cleaned

I like how you vibrate and leave the map of your wetness

flower Girl full napa
“Flower Girl” Original artwork by A.R. Minhas (c) 2018

Look up!

The mirror reflects you, and you’re counting down the four songs

And I remember that money is no object for you.

And I’m hoping that this moment doesn’t end,

And if I could finger you

I would’ve left a bloodbath of love.

It’s the red of your lips that speak the name,

And the slight static your legs offer

Arc touch of razorblades creates endorphins for immortality.

And when it’s over

You talk to someone right next to me…

How cruel is that?

Maybe, you could hustle somewhere else

So I’m not reminded of the moment we shared

Is it too human to ask?

© A.R. Minhas 2018

Show Me Your Eyes

 

Your eyes meet mine while you eat

A Red Velvet Cheesecake

Teeth crackle

And I feel your lips

Cold tongues and warm breath

 

“Show me your eye, and I’ll show you mine.”

My hand travels underneath the table to meet your thighs

No one will know

And you laugh that laugh when we first met

 

You know the type of girls I like

The ones who present a new way of thinking

Perhaps, if I drew you naked

I could understand

What you present to me

 

The randomness of your hair

And when you try so hard to maintain a straight face

While you are grabbing

Your breasts

I need cream for my coffee

 

The structure of your abdomen

Slopes to the slit of your eye

 

Clitoris of your soul

You gush my favorite dopamine sundae

Dripping like chocolate molten

These fingers know how to move

I know you have to go

It’s ok

 

I’ll deal with my trust issues later

And I’ll text you when you get back

 

For now, I have to go

Keep your eye on me, always.

 

 

© A.R. Minhas 2018

Novel: Confessions of an Abortion Addict – Excerpt – Part 6

This is an excerpt from the novel “Confessions of an Abortion Addict.” The novel is still in progress, and I’m continuing this process with Nanowrimo. I’m currently at 10,000 words, 40,000 to go! This passage might not be sequential and will be subject to additional editing. Thank you!

Two travelers in a civic ride past the countryside. The sun sets low in that perfect glow of nostalgia; a time no one remembers but becomes familiar as winter approaches. In plains of beautiful sight, the trees have accepted that their leaves must fall. Snow accumulates on the ground, frostbitten grass fingers unable to touch. I’m looking out at the window and greeted with overhanging wires, deer warning signs, orange pylons, and windmills. I think about what would happen if humans just disappeared from the face of the earth. Will these things still be there, and if they are, what would they matter?

“You’ve never had fast food before?”

“Never, my mother never allowed it, and I just found it reprehensible.”

“Those golden arches don’t do anything for you?”

“Nope.”

“You really are something aren’t you?”

“I’m sorry I’m so different from what you’re used to,” I said, sounding a lot bitchier than it was intended. I was in a foul mood, and it was spilling everywhere.

“No, no—it’s just no matter whoever you are…you always try fast food, you know? Just because it’s always there and sometimes you’re so broke that’s the only thing you can afford, right?”

“You think I’m broke?”

“No, I meant that generally. But you know everyone is broke at some point, and you don’t come off as a spoiled brat.”

“You don’t have to be rich to be spoilt.”

“Hey, sorry did I say something that is making you say all this? Because you sounded really nice on the phone and you’re the one who said that you’d like to come to the cabin after I said I was going.”

“Listen, I’m sorry…it’s I needed to get out of the city for a little bit.”

“And I was your only option? Fantastic.”

“Thank you for understanding,” I said, unable to apologize or empathize with his situation. I turn to the side of my bag and fumbling for my Dunhills. There are debris of my past lives that are in this bag, and I seem to brush against them every time I slip into its content.

The darkness of that leather purse. The womb. An aspiration that will be squirted into a yellow suckling sounds. Blue-tinged aftermaths, tissue paper, crumpled, cold to antiseptic touch, and swabbed with cotton of human shades. A hollow tube that inserts itself into a pink void. It’s searching for meaning and also destroying it. Ftt! Ftt! fits of crying. Centre of embryonic waves crashing into me, and the waves receding taking parts of me with them. And my fingers like looped knives removing the remaining cigarettes.

Windows slightly opened and my fingers nervous to the frigidity of the atmosphere outside. Nightmares following me on journeys of escaping who I am.

Previous Excerpts:

Novel: Confessions of an Abortion Addict – Excerpt – Part 5

Novel: Confessions of an Abortion Addict – Excerpt – Part 4

Novel: Confessions of an Abortion Addict – Excerpt – Part 3

Novel: Confessions of an Abortion Addict – Excerpt – Part 2

Novel: Confessions of an Abortion Addict – Excerpt – Part 1

Confessions of an Abortion Addict

© A.R. Minhas 2017

Nanowrimo 2017

Hey Everybody,

I know I haven’t  been uploading that much content recently, and I wanted to sincerely apologize to you, my followers. Unfortunately, there have been things going on in my life which have stifled my creativity.

However, this shouldn’t be an excuse, and all of you deserve better. But, more importantly, I deserve to do better as well. And in order to do that, I want to change my attitude and increase my commitment to the thing I love most in the world– which is, of course, writing. So I’m taking a deep breath, and I’m joining up for Nanowrimo 2017.

Nanowrimo 2017, to the uninitiated, is a challenge to write a novel in November. That is writing 50,000 words in a month. I have actually completed my novel, ‘The Bombs are Fallen,’ back in 2012 but I haven’t been able to finish writing a novel since then.

Anyway, I want to challenge myself and hopefully at least finish the first draft of ‘ Confessions of an Abortion Addict,’ which has been kind of a stop-start affair for me. What this means for you all is that I might not be able to post that much, but I will try my best. I owe you all a lot, and your comments, kind words, and encouragement have kept me going.

Please, let me know if any of you are doing the challenge too. My username is Arminhas if you’d like to add me as a writing buddy. And I’d love to hear what you all are planning. I’m leaving the link to the sign-up page for Nanowrimo below. Thank you!

 

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Sign up:

https://nanowrimo.org/sign_up

 

 

 

 

 

I’ll Give You A Kiss In My Dreams

These thoughts buried something

Something in your dreams

There is a jar filled with Honey

And I pour it

They create steps

A temple of your heart

Steep conversations

Vegetation will take care of

Cicadas

Heart thumping like pure jet-streams

Azure is shape of my skin

You sit next to me

 

Can you hear them?

 

Who knew that chemical reactions can create longing?

And I’m floating from you just being next to me

“Share a coke?” you ask with carbonated lips

I would share a grasshopper with you

High on protein

Saliva dripping rainbows and you share that secret with me

There are no Banyans close by

Let’s do magic by that Orange shape

Peeling it by toes

Those natural fingertips are delicate to fur touch

And I promised you an apple pie

If you stay close enough

I’ll give you a view

From my chest

Along a withering forest

To my dreams

Just stay close.

 

© A.R. Minhas 2017

I haven’t felt like this in a long time

 

I shaved my hair to stop the thinning

Recessions

I’m free from your choke hold

You can judge

And I’ll fuck harder than ever before

You will know me

Even if I have to draw velvet circles

With my tongue

That’s how you like it

When your skin goes pale

And I mark it with my overbite impressions

You go green all over

 

Your body covered in black tassels

Brimming with the juice of life

I’ll squeeze even if I don’t like pulp

 

I’ve grown to love your unfiltered bits

That tangy flavor of your body

 

I had forgotten how to love

Then you held me that night

Just like tonight

You held me before

Just in time

When I was about to let go

Tonight I held you

And your perfume held my stare

And if I stared a bit longer

It would’ve been like that feeling again.

 

© A.R. Minhas 2017

My sense of humor is a death trap

My sense of humor is a death trap

Lock Jaw. Trap shut.

 

There goes your face

Contact lenses lost within eyes.

 

Go find your broken glasses.

 

And here come the golden cicadas

 

Interrupting me

While I masturbate with my own thoughts

 

I’ll hide behind your pale breasts

The blood from my gums left behind

 

Thumbs leave an impression

Fingers pulsate with love

 

Silkworms on their arduous task

Going uphill on ashened graves

 

A plume of waxed legs

Use them to silence me

 

My sense of humor will kill you

If you came to close to it

 

It’s opening

 

The Birth of a joke

Laugh in the face of absurdity

 

You are lost

And there is laughter everywhere

And I can’t help myself

 

© A.R. Minhas 2017