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Pink Twilight

Pink Twilight

they come to you and they devour themselves

we sense freedom so out come the rocks a' bashing

slap them on the forehead and make 'em bleed

you've caught a whiff of the cosmic beat

stuck on the air like syrup and sex

the shrine of time is a twin layered thing

a fuzzy pink twilight grows on the atmosphere

fibers of mellowed glass sprout in the lung

you've been breathing us in deep for so long

you've walked into the ancient age now

I know

for I can hear you crying gently

don't grow too bright

the lightning of your symbol hurts my eyes

S. Sparling

the hymns of midnight

shake rattle and roar

some lions have feasted on the moon

all that silver blood drips onto earth

pools collectively over new york

hong kong and berlin

its snaking berth is a twisting limb

naked lady arms that pet the cement

and snatch at the ankles of children

to suck them in and *slurp*

never let us hear from them again

is this the new drug?

that some bearded prophet

of plaided and argyll worth

spun out of old stories

that until recently

held no meaning

it comes coarsely

sticks in the throat

but eventually

we'll have to swallow

for I too did see

those lions feast

on the moon

S. Sparling

dissolving the night

I witnessed a rainbow lacerate a black light

the light was an eternity that gave no soul

only asked for everything in return

the rainbow ate and it ate and it ate

and finally when the rains came

it bolstered and grew so fat

that it blotted out the sky

and the black light grew around us

as a halo of enervation

muscles could not hold the bow

and its mighty colours ran

gripped our feet

pulled us down into the sewer

where the alligators roam free

they wore alien headdresses

they listened to goth rock

S. Sparling

the shadow vixens

the radiating night has a chorus of power

my glass-blown storm of satin and silk

you slather me in frothy milk-white love

its eating out my quivering core

the shadow vixens have come at last

so where is the acid that ate my skin

where are the dark lords that ride?

you've got thoughts (oh so many)

they've got feelings of their own

but its all lightning death

some power that rips

a vacuum in the sky

do you hear that sound?

its thunder on the horizon

do you know it?

its coming to kill you

S. Sparling

swaddled in fire

very soon the treachery of the cloth will be revealed

this purple and gold have pock marked the face of god

somewhere a crimson cross has bled across a white tabard

the jesuits contain knowledge that their masters dam up

in the sepulcher that is a chalk bright city

where are the bones of a fallen idol?

we have smashed them all to smithereens

where are the nights of hidden splendor?

we have swallowed them in covetous wine

your naked body is burning here on the altar

there is a serpent coiling like a spring within your flesh

when the mechanism releases there will be blood

HERE

NOW

upon this marbled floor

that reflects a golden vizier

that catches up the torch light

they brought you here wrapped in linens

now I have swaddled you in fire

S. Sparling

The god that wandered cross the sea

His art’s presence in the street chalks another one up for creative expression not confined by a gallery. At the same time, his ability to exist in both realms is a feather he proudly wears in his hat. After all, Emol is a pop artist. He’s got his finger on the pulse of a nation, that for years, has reflected the diversity of one of the the most intense countries in the world. So much land, and so many perspectives facilitated by a complicated history, that over time, has produced some of the deftest conveyances of the human condition. Emol is no different. —Evan La Ruffa

"I consider my work as an embodiment from antenna to roots, capturing that which is current, but with a strong link to the past, and with ancestry." - Emol

Emol has been keeping the tradition of Brazilian street art alive and pumpin' with his hieroglyphic, colour studded creations. Check out the short interview on Juxtapoz Magazine - here

Just a moment

(young)

(richmond)

(walsh)

(McCovey)

(bol)

(santiago)

check out a slightly more in-depth article on the artist John Intrater here

or check out his website here

The Ulyssean Adult

Since Shade Relents

L'AMOUR PAR TERRE

The wind the other night blew down the Love

That in the dimmest corner of the park

So subtly used to smile, bending his arc,

And sight of whom did us so deeply move

One day! The other night's wind blew him down!

The marble dust whirls in the morning breeze.

Oh, sad to view, o'erblotted by the trees,

There on the base, the name of great renown!

Oh, sad to view the empty pedestal!

And melancholy fancies come and go

Across my dream, whereon a day of woe

Foreshadowed is--I know what will befall!

Oh, sad!--And you are saddened also, Sweet,

Are not you, by this scene? although your eye

Pursues the gold and purple butterfly

That flutters o'er the wreck strewn at our feet.

P. Verlaine

COLLOQUE SENTIMENTAL

In the deserted park, silent and vast,

Erewhile two shadowy glimmering figures passed.

Their lips were colorless, and dead their eyes;

Their words were scarce more audible than sighs.

In the deserted park, silent and vast,

Two spectres conjured up the buried past.

"Our ancient ecstasy, do you recall?"

"Why, pray, should I remember it at all?"

"Does still your heart at mention of me glow?

Do still you see my soul in slumber?" "No!"

"Ah, blessed, blissful days when our lips met!

You loved me so!" "Quite likely,--I forget."

"How sweet was hope, the sky how blue and fair!"

"The sky grew black, the hope became despair."

Thus walked they 'mid the frozen weeds, these dead,

And Night alone o'erheard the things they said.

P. Verlaine

SINCE SHADE RELENTS

Since shade relents, since 'tis indeed the day,

Since hope I long had deemed forever flown,

Wings back to me that call on her and pray,

Since so much joy consents to be my own,--

The dark designs all I relinquish here,

And all the evil dreams. Ah, done am I

Above all with the narrowed lips, the sneer,

The heartless wit that laughed where one should sigh.

Away, clenched fist and bosom's angry swell,

That knave and fool at every turn abound.

Away, hard unforgivingness! Farewell,

Oblivion in a hated brewage found!

For I mean, now a Being of the Morn

Has shed across my night excelling rays

Of love at once immortal and newborn,--

By favor of her smile, her glance, her grace,

I mean by you upheld, O gentle hand,

Wherein mine trembles,--led, sweet eyes, by you,

To walk straight, lie the path o'er mossy land

Or barren waste that rocks and pebbles strew.

Yes, calm I mean to walk through life, and straight,

Patient of all, unanxious of the goal,

Void of all envy, violence, or hate

It shall be duty done with cheerful soul.

And as I may, to lighten the long way,

Go singing airs ingenuous and brave,

She'll listen to me graciously, I say,--

And, verily, no other heaven I crave.

P. Verlaine