Fraud

I don’t deserve it.

“You look like you need it.”

          A cherry flavoured kiss.

I still taste you on my beard.

A door knocks.

         An ancient bird that taps.

Shadows close in on me.

          The mouse-trap with red velvet cake.

You don’t deserve anything.

          It snaps. It recoils.

This is how a dream breaks,

And I’m relieved.

You were never real.

          It was all given to you,

          And now you return to take me back.

I laugh at your audacity

“Papers, please.”

I was never here in the first place.

There is a beauty in surrendering.

© A.R. Minhas

I’ll Eat You In My Dreams

There is a jar filled with Honey

Buried in your dreams

And I pour it

            They create steps

                        A temple of your heart

Steep conversations            

                        Cicadas with Kamikaze fervor

 Heart thumping like pure jet-streams

            Azure is the shape of my skin

                        You sit next to me

            Can you hear them?

Ovulations of perfume

            A fermented kiss in a plastic bottle

Who knew that chemical reactions can create longings?

                        Vegetation of Serotonin

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

“Share a Diet-Coke?” you ask with carbonated eyes.

I would share a Chocolate grasshopper with you

            High on protein

                         Saliva dripping rainbows and you share a secret with me

There are no Mango-Trees close by

Let’s do magic by that Orange shape

            Peeling it with toes

                        Those natural, citrusy fingertips

Delicate

To a stroking fur touch

                                    And I promised you an apple pie

If you stay close enough

I’ll give you a view

                From my chest

                                    Like open palms

                                    Dipping to Luna

                        A fountain foaming with desire

Smoking Blue Dream

            Within a withering forest

                        In my dreams

                        Just stay close.

And I’ll eat you underneath a Mango-Tree.

© A.R. Minhas 2019

Self-Image Before Birth

They beheld me and I beheld you…

We are locked in each other’s web of

Expectations.

And I’m aroused by the Moon’s piercing light

And I’m blinded by your shadow.

You have eclipsed me

And I cower before your presence.

          While my presence lingers somewhere down there

In the periphery

Hoping to communicate with you

But you are above it all

          In a Heavenly sphere

And I’m stuck here in hellish cubicles

Recording death in its future states…

And yet I have found ways.

To smother death in its Afternoon Siestas

                                                And all it would take to validate me

                                                          Validate me with your lips

                                                          A Kiss!

“Smack!”

A kiss so hard that it leaves me red all over

A kiss so hard my saliva makes iridescent rings with yours

Communicate with lips

          And I’m Rebirthed

          Or Resurfaced

                 From the flood that consumes me

And I’m gurgling                                                   This song so perchance

You hear it                         And                               Validate

                                                                                    Me  

Continuously validate me

               And validate my words

           And keep validating me

Or I will be

An after thought

                To be an after thought

                             Just like birth

                                      Death happens suddenly

And it’s continuous on and on and on

These words aren’t mine

They are borrowed

                                   In blood and all the unseen are the world’s thoughts

                                                          My blood

                                                          My DNA

Unconsciousness

 That gives substance to my words

          But you so closely resemble myself

       That I accept your inability to communicate with me

       And your betrayal 

                     Is comfortable.

© A.R. Minhas 2019

Buy my Artwork on Redbubble:

https://www.redbubble.com/people/arminhas/works/36229617-self-image-before-birth?asc=u&p=canvas-print

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

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

The Fool

Purchase Artwork: https://www.redbubble.com/people/arminhas/works/33440034-the-fool-c-a-r-minhas-2018?asc=u&p=canvas-print

(USE CODE RETROGREAT, for 20% Discount)

THE FOOL (Zeke)

BY: A.R. Minhas

 

If you hold onto this

Drown in the water

Look up! Look up!

 

There’s hope that if you hold onto the flower

The wind that carries its weight

And floats up

Swirls around a bit

 

I can’t get that green cicada noise out of my head

And I plan to end another father figure’s life

“I’m beyond frustrated.”

 

You don’t lead me anywhere,

I just travel in circles, and all you do is make noises

Plates clutter, your middle-age flatulence

Feet thudding with panic

 

And I fear that

I might end up like you

 

Bald, bloated, stubborn and alone

 

But for now

I feel the wind in my hair

There are no signs of appendicitis

 

I feel like I’m guiding myself

Even this cigarette has given me a new meaning of life

 

And if I can just walk around

I’ll eventually stumble on that mystical guide

 

Here’s hoping it was me all along.

 

© A.R. Minhas 2018

 

 

 

 

 

 

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 longtime; 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 its 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, 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)

Nightingale Sings

If you had walked on the sand

Waves of eyes sing this

Song

 

It howls red

A screaming into Love

 

You tell me everything, and I gave you

My Simurgh

I’m a wanderer King

 

I consult with my non-existent God

Stub your cigarette on my eye

I have too many to spare

Your soul has some ash on it

Brush it off

There is some employment to be had

 

Yellow footsteps follow the smoke

 

I saw like the buzzard

The snake that serenades you

Fall down the whaling willow

 

The spider in the night

 

I creep towards you

 

The webs of our entanglement.

Attune to the nightingale

Still darkness

Beyond the universe

 

And it wants to recreate itself.

 

 

© 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