Images & Meanings I: Accord

Accord by Artxman

“Accord” by Artxman [Manzel Bowman]

What does this image mean to me?

God is represented as a woman. The young lady She’s holding in Her right hand is from the Himba tribe in Opuwo, Namibia, known for their maintained closeness to nature and their simplicity. There is pleasure and satisfaction in God’s eyes (colour yellow) as She looks at her. She’s so natural and it makes her quite pleasing to look at. I guess it means, the closer we are to nature, and to simplicity, the closer we are to God, among other things.

 

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Self Lust

Self Love.png

michael escoffery

Suddenly, there two of me.
The second me came out of me,
as if I had painlessly birthed her.
She looked more beautiful,
and she had a penis.

Then I, me, the other me,
began to make love to me.
I had never experienced anything like it,
like the intense pleasure that I felt.
I wasn’t sure if I alive or dead;
it was all very confusing.

Puppy Love

“I love you” and
“you’re the one that I love”
never sounded so different like it did,
the first time he said the latter.

It felt more like an “I am yours”
than a “you are mine”.

It felt good.

The Lady of His Dreams

Death

He calls for her sometimes,
whenever he closes his eyes,
wherever his body lies.
Impromptu, she takes take him away,
be it night or day,
even when he lies with bae.

She hopes he would stay one day;
she cannot get enough.
Right before he goes away,
right before he opens his eyes,
she wipes his memories of her off.

She is his mistress,
but he does not know her yet.
She has gorgeous breasts and soulful eyes,
and we all call her “Death”.

On the night of his 75th birthday,
after many years of sweet sex,
she will propose to him while he is asleep,
and, of course, he will tell her “yes”.

The Hands, the Vase and the Flower

If you ever think you were wrong,
you’re right.
If you ever think you did bad,
you’re doing good.
When you broke the flower vase,
you had to take care of your cuts,
but you have quickly forgotten
that my home was shattered too.

A dead flower needed her vase.
A dead flower would begin to decay soon.
A red flower died because of you.
A red flower died because she loved you.

 


You let someone hold you, and because of their carelessness, or because they’re just tired of how heavy you can be sometimes, or for “no” reason, they drop you. Your heart’s broken. Your vase is destroyed, shattered into many pieces that you can’t possibly put back together on your own.
They say “oh! I was cut! She’s in the wrong and I’m innocent.”
Well, what about the poor flower? What about this poor flower? You got cut. Yes. You got cut but I died. Sorry to you but adieu to me. I don’t bleed, I’m a flower, but I can get very badly hurt too.
Also, I’ve not been resting in perfect peace; I’ve not even been resting in one piece.