Everything is Borrowed

This cold autumnal night,

Coyotes crawling in someone else’s backyard.

The ugly howl.

A man in pain.

Overhead wires ecstatic with Love.

This is borrowed time.

This is a borrowed house.

Blue Smoke ecstacy

My lungs ache to be with the beloved.

The chest cavity can’t contain its pain anymore.

There are tentacles of pleasure.

My head swimming with dopamine–

Let’s float on the synthetic wave.

“Oh! I thought there was no one in the elevator”

And you were right.

I’ve borrowed this entity.

It does what it’s told.

And it wants to forget.

Its a negative of a photo,

Burning a long time ago.

And no one was there to capture its light.

(C) A.R. Minhas 2019

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Novel: “Confessions of an Abortion Addict” – First Draft

Hey guys,

I just wanted to let you know that I’ve been busy finishing the first draft of my novel, “Confessions of an Abortion Addict”.

I just wanted let you guys know that I haven’t forgotten about you but it’s been a very hard process for me. I’m very close to finishing the first draft and I hope it will be completed before the year ends. I wanted to post this because I wanted some feedback.

I’m wondering about how to actually go about publishing it. I’m leaning towards self-publishing but I’m open to any suggestions. Please, share your thoughts with me. I would really appreciate it, thank you.

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

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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“The High Priestess” – (Poetry/ Artwork for Sale)

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I’m surrounded by mystical faces

“Great Simurgh protect me in your wings!”

Shaped like eyes

Pupils dilate like solar flares.

Your tachyons are showing.

I masturbate to activate the sigil

Cum to the sound of a Hummingbird heartbeat

Vision of Cicadas

Revisit in that chamber

You tell your greatest lies in small truths

And your skin feels familiar

Stale smoke and ancient car smell.

High priestess, I came to you that night when I wanted to summon Mercury.

And your lips tasted like strawberry, and I know about your charred lungs.

And we remain sweet like secrets to each other.

(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

Weird Eyes

If you had loved me hard enough

“Don’t say those words like an afterthought.”

I burn that flower at night time

The urgency of this message

I’m in love with being myself

Vaseline love,

Apply lotion to a dry heart.

See it through.

Evidence of bubblegum

Cardamom,

Say the word I’m there.

Wax spilt on black marble.

“You came with thundering applause.”

And I burst into you…

Tears

Wide Eyed, weird eyes

Drown

A gaggle of loud noises

Beautifying the porch

Cigarette bodies hidden

Beneath

Neon smoke

Up Above

My nose throbs for your loins

Teeth willing to pierce through

Skin

And then flesh

Blood caramel

Dripping from your lips.

I lay my head down

A disembodied voice

“Nostalgia keeps me alive.”

(c) A.R. Minhas 2019

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 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