The Last Time We Were Here

There’s a lesson at the bottom of the glass

I’ve hit my bubba pink

 

She delivers and they walk by

I’m like a GPS

My subconscious has taken a detour

 

Too hyperaware of everything

 

And I’ve never seen her walk

And she appeared like my words give her form

 

I’m dreaming again, but there is nothing between us

 

And I’m here again with you old friend

 

“I’ve stopped writing because I’ve stopped feeling…”

 

You paused and drank your Cappuccino

“It all comes back to you.”

 

Amsterdam big-wheel rolls on and

We reminisce

You’ve gone all responsible on me

 

How fucking dare you!

 

And you sit there counting your wrong decisions in the past

And I’m confused because all I’ve done is envy your capriciousness

 

And then I remembered

I wrote a poem the last time we came out here.

 

 

© A.R. Minhas

 

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)

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

No Love

So you hold me close

And I’ve thought about that afternoon

You hold me too tight

And I’m not able to give you love or offer love

I’m resigned to the fact that you despise me

For some reason

I trigger something in you that finds me so repulsive…

And I can only draw you now in naked form

Your breasts have eyes that I can’t escape from

 

I had learned to live alone

So it’s ok if you’d like to

I’ll swipe left before you even think about it

 

It’s rude to say anything

Mutually assured loneliness.

 

© 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

Stagnant

Someone said I can have the whole world

I’m stagnant now

Held into place by my inaction

And I spill a pint glass

My emotions are swaying everywhere

And I continue to overshare my insecurities

I’m not too drunk to notice you flinch

And make your faces

 

I’m surrounded by people who don’t realize my greatness

Just because I’m puking in the vase

You don’t know my greatness

 

I sail on the smoke of an early morning

Cigarette craving

 

This is my regret

And thank you for your indifference

I almost stabbed you with my pen.

 

© 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

Our Bodies Betray Us

I’m drinking again

And all I can think of, is her.

It’s cold outside

And the warm melted cheese of my quesadilla

Embraces the foamy amber.

I keep talking about the time I fell in love

And even though I know my friend is tired of me talking about her

Fuck him

I don’t care

I get poetical when I’m drunk,

And I dream of my waitress giving me blowjobs

In that perfect way, she used to

The way she would roll her tongue and sometimes use the sharpness of her teeth…

Nothing like the threat of castration

To get harder

She pulled me closer, and I told her my chemicals were for her.

Only her.

And her skin was meant for me to puncture

And draw monuments to

The way I used the red pen

No one else will know

I remember the swelling of breasts,

Swelling in my mouth.

My mother told me that she never breastfed me,

Maybe that’s why I’m so needy,

So insecure

I excuse myself for a cigarette outside.

I want to be alone.

And if there’s a god, he’s given me the gift of wanting-to-be-alone.

And I exhale smoke in triangular propulsion

Each howl of wind wakes me from sleepiness

And my thoughts race

To the pinkness of her thighs,

Softness of her hair,

Even the slight coarseness of her armpits.

I’m still thinking about her.

The perfect form.

And I’m thinking about her betrayal,

And I’m thinking about forgiving her,

Because

Eventually

Our Bodies betray us

But she will always be perfect in my mind.

© A.R. Minhas 2017