Nihilism.

There isn’t any safety.

Particles colliding randomly.

I can only see a story through a microscope.

It’s just me,

Dreaming

Of smoke smelling like rubber tires.

And here I was lying in a puddle of sweetness.

My only paperback friends.

Buried under Ash.

Black water seeps through you

“And don’t you forget the plants!”

Even the trees are depressed today.

We lost our Summer-child.

A season of Abortions.

Those Mango trees have Fetuses sleeping in them.

I sleep on a hard bed now.

The weight of the world on my back,

And here I am feeling light.

I own nothing.

And I sleep in perfect silence.

(C) A.R. Minhas

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

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(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

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

Incinerated

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

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

I STILL HAVE TIME: A GARDEN OF EYES

 

My words have failed me

And so has everyone else

If there was a bullet

I could shoot

I would shoot it with my teeth

Everything is falling apart

As it always does

And I’m here to chew on your ashes

Like sweet betel-leaf

“Spit out the purple residue!”

 

Our gums have long expired

They’re longing for Vitamin C

 

          Fructose spilled on your car

          Calcium deposits remain

And the smoke chars your pinched breast

          They open and close like eyes

                   I’ve never had a taste of those protruding nipples

That stab me in the throat

As we become one

And you give me sustenance

 

Suckling sound!

I know it calms you down more than Sativa

Bless me with your chemicals, and I’ll  bless you with mine!

 

© A.R. Minhas 2017

 

 

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

This is an excerpt from the novel “Confessions of an Abortion Addict.” The novel is still in progress and this excerpt might not be sequential and will be subject to additional editing. Please provide feedback. Thank you!

 

The room was a vacuum of white static. A giant corridor in a hospital except without the smell of disinfectant; it smelt more like a perfume counter of a department store. This is the beginning of your new life. There are other would-be actresses that Virchow, has lured with a promise of fame and stardom. The other girls come in different sizes, but they have the same age: under 30-ish.  Old man craves young flesh. Practicing lines, pouting lips in Vanity Mirrors, Refreshing make-up and they have brought with them the dreams that are about to be realized. I adjust my yellow dress that I’ve worn after my agent’s continuous pestering and pleas to look presentable.

I have my hair down, from what I can see in the mirror at the opposite end. It looks matte black. My skin also feels darker because I didn’t feel like going too heavy for the make-up. I’d really don’t like being here too, but my agent insists that ambition is the key. You have to make things happen.

 

“I love the yellow you’re wearing, it really compliments your skin tone,” the girl next to me says.

 

“Oh, Thanks!” I said, and it took a moment for me to realize that she was talking to me. No one had said a word to me this entire afternoon, except for maybe verifying that I was on the audition list. This girl was very peculiar; for one thing, everyone had come with portfolios, their bags and of course they were all dressed to reflect their own particular set of assets.  While she was wearing a low-cut, plain white tee, black leather vest with spiked studs, a multitude of scarves and accessories, on a skinny frame with a heavy dose of mascara which made the blues on her eyes feel piercing. “I love your get up too,” I try to mirror the compliment but it might have felt a little insincere due to the long pause.

 

“Ha-ha, please, don’t lie. I know I’m underdressed, but my agent forced me to come here,” she gently strokes her serpentine red hair.

“That sounds awesome—you have anything else lined up?”

“A couple of things. Plus, I’ve not heard anything good about, Virchow. One of my friends was telling me that he makes the girls take off their top and chooses them based on the color of their areolas.”

 

“Really?” I replied. Don’t listen to the competition, June…she just wants to see you walk out that door. “Don’t get me wrong, he doesn’t have a very sparkling reputation, but that’s low— even for him…just out of curiosity what color does he prefer?”

 

“Apparently, he really likes nipples to complement the rest of the breast, so they become camouflaged.” She says in an indifferent tone. “I have darker nipples anyway, so I’m already out.”

“No offense but if that’s the case why don’t you just walk out right now?” I ask her with a bluntness that I didn’t even know I had in me. Yeah, tell the truth.

 

“Well, it’s a rumor, and in this day and age everyone makes up their own rumors. I just want to see who is bullshitting me, right?” She says that without blinking. “Oh, by the way, my name is Sally, Sally Chrysler. Not like the car, please don’t make that joke— I probably should change my last name— anyway, you can call me, Sly. You might remember me from such classics as Prairie Shark, Wendigo: the awakening and of course Who brought the lumberjack on my fishing boat, eh?”

“Ha-ha,” I couldn’t help but chuckle at her, it was a little difficult to keep pace with her thoughts. “Hi, Sally…urm…sorry, Sly. I’m June, June Husk. I’ve also only been in Canadian Movies, mostly. I did some stuff with Tcherkov, but as it was pointed out to me by my Agent, for me to ‘make it’ I have to go to Hollywood…well nice to meet you.” I palm her hand and she goes for the cheek-to-cheek, and we end up in between a low hug and front-on spooning.

 

“Nice to meet you too, June. I can’t say, I’ve seen you in anything…but you look familiar but here’s hoping this is your big break.”

“I hope so too,” I said with a heavy sigh. There is a long moment of silence between us, and the long gap is filled with Sly’s intermittent whistling.

“Hey, once you’re done do you wanna go out for a couple of drinks?” She says in her pattern of blurts.

 

“Umm…I have to be somewhere after, but we can go out sometime later this week.”

 

“Great, by the way, it wasn’t meant as a date or anything—hmm…I just like to you know network a little bit.”

 

“You really are awkward aren’t you?” I replied, smiling back at her.

 

“Yeah, you noticed?”

 

“Yes, I did,” we laughed, and for a moment we forgot that we were sitting in a hallway filled with anxious starlets.

 

“June! June Husk!” A voice bellowed.

 

“That’s you…go! go!”

 

“Thanks!” I leaped up, pirouetting across the rows of starry-eyed, doe-faced hopefuls. She gave me an air kiss and stuck her card inside my purse in a flash. I swore that I heard her say, all the best, as I rushed towards the assistant who called me.

“June Husk…nice name.”  He said holding a clipboard close to his chest.

 

“Thanks.”

 

Previous Excerpts:

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

It’s Ok To Be Lonely, Sometimes

“It’s ok if they don’t get your joke.”

            “None of them do…”

            “And humor is such a subjective thing.”

                            “You just have to try a little harder…”

“Maybe, a little more to the right.”

“If you stick the landing then they’ll respect you…”

“Oh! When are you getting published?”

            “You just don’t drink that much.”

 

“Please, please another pint… that’s all I have left.”

“Is the weekend over yet because this egg won’t crack itself,”

            “If there is a movie to masturbate too can we please watch something surreal?”

“If your breasts like mountains bow I would be able to see again!”

“I can paint the world with your freshly stippled legs.”

 

“That pure waterfall is my release, and the cliff is your face changing shape.”

 

“Our evergreens and my heart are rooted in you.”

 

“If there a distance between a star, let me immolate between your thighs.”

 

 “I have lied to you inside a convenience store.” “And I know of the other entity that

                                                                  resides below you.”

 

“If there is flesh, let me have a light…”

“And smoke is blessed and falls on all of us with carcinogenic precision.”

“It’s ok, loneliness comes in small bouts.”

                                                          “It will kill you in small amounts.”

 

“And maybe one day you won’t be so disappointed that you ended up this way.”

 

© A.R. Minhas 2017