night-soul-time

The Night I Fucked My Alarm Clock
by Charles Bukowski

starving in philadelphia
i had a small room
it was evening going into night
and i stood at my window on the 3rd floor
in the dark and looked down into a
kitchen across the way on the 2nd floor
and i saw a beautiful blonde girl
embrace a young man there and kiss him
with what seemed hunger
and i stood and watched until they broke
away
then i turned and switched on the room light
i saw my dresser and my dresser drawers
and my alarm clock on the dresser
i took my alarm clock
to bed with me and
fucked it until the hands dropped off
then i went out and walked the streets
until my feet blistered
when i got back i walked to the window
and looked down and across the way
and the light in their kitchen was
out

ph: Victoria Ivanova

Night in Saint-Cloud by Edvard Munch, 1893

"If you're losing your soul and you know it, 

then you've still got a soul left to lose."

Charles Bukowski

the here and after

by Jun Miyake

Stolen from Strangers (2007)

Nativity

Nativity of Jesus by Andrei Rublev, 1405

Byzantine fresco, 14th century

***

Merry Christmas!

signs of life

photography by Olivia Parker

Orchid

Broken Nautiluses

Eggshells

Pheasant

Rose

Three Feathers Three Crystals

Site 1

Silver Heat

Digitalis

Cinquefoil

Two Nautiluses

Vegetable

(source: here)

far from land

Kristen McMenamy by Tim Walker

W Magazine December 2013

poem-photo-painting

by Irving Penn

The Sunset of Romanticism

How beautiful a new sun is when it rises,
flashing out its greeting, like an explosion!
- Happy, whoever hails with sweet emotion
its descent, nobler than a dream, to our eyes!
I remember! I’ve seen all, flower, furrow, fountain,
swoon beneath its look, like a throbbing heart…
- Let’s run quickly, it’s late, towards the horizon,
to catch at least one slanting ray as it departs!
But I pursue the vanishing God in vain:
irresistible Night establishes its sway,
full of shudders, black, dismal, cold:
an odour of the tomb floats in the shadow,
at the swamp’s edge, feet faltering I go,
bruising damp slugs, and unexpected toads.
- Charles Baudelaire -

Broken Images (Decayed Sanatorium) 

by Cesare Bedogne

Groningen by Cesare Bedogne, 1996

Imitation

A dark unfathomed tide
Of interminable pride -
A mystery, and a dream,
Should my early life seem;
I say that dream was fraught
With a wild and waking thought
Of beings that have been,
Which my spirit hath not seen,
Had I let them pass me by,
With a dreaming eye!
Let none of earth inherit
That vision of my spirit;
Those thoughts I would control,
As a spell upon his soul:
For that bright hope at last
And that light time have past,
And my worldly rest hath gone
With a sigh as it passed on:
I care not though it perish
With a thought I then did cherish
- Edgar Allan Poe -

David with the Head of Goliath c.1610

by Caravaggio

(the inner battle between Good & Evil)

No.8 (Black-Form paintings) by Mark Rothko, 1964

Untitled (Black on Grey) by Mark Rothko, 1969-70

(the Black on Grey paintings were Rothko's final series)

The Inquisitive Man’s Dream

A Nadar
Do you know, as I do, delicious sadness
and make others say of you: ‘Strange man!’
- I was dying. In my soul, singular illness,
desire and horror were mingled as one:
anguish and living hope, no factious bile.
The more the fatal sand ran out, the more
acute, delicious my torment: my heart entire
was tearing itself away from the world I saw.
I was like a child eager for the spectacle,
hating the curtain as one hates an obstacle…
at last the truth was chillingly revealed:
I’d died without surprise, dreadful morning
enveloped me. – Was this all there was to see?
The curtain had risen, and I was still waiting.
- Charles Baudelaire -

by Zdzisław Beksiński

model

Hollie-May Saker