They are cold, tired and hungry.
There were supposed to be two,
And I wasn’t supposed to be welcoming them,
For I am only a tennant,
In these faulty towers.
But there is happiness to this madness,
Tonight I shall indulge
All the pleasures…
Blatantly, and without inhibition.
Because no one can touch me,
Now that I have done another man’s job.
No one will dare knock on my door
Asking me to cease and desist,
When they cannot succeed at independence
In managing the affairs
of the self-orchestrated hurricane they call a life.
This poem was inspired by the one and only @Uncorps on instagram. His abstract close-ups and full bodied self portraits (both censored and uncensored) display the best of the male anatomy whilst expressing the most earnest and passionate of emotions. Most notable however, is that his face is never revealed in his work.
His manner and mystery evoke the most intense pangs of lust driven by curiosity towards the enigmatic and the unseen. Whether it’s faith in eternity, electricity pulsating through the body or the howling winds of nature, we are all driven and moved by a force which cannot be entirely recognised. For this reason, my words could not be contained.
The citation to Frida Khalo is a nod to the works published in her once secret diary, which have undoubtedly influenced the overall literary flow and style of this piece. I wanted to keep the emotion as raw as possible, which means the lines do not follow a set or predictable structure, and the words – compulsive and uncontrollable – ryhme at random.
On short, these words convey the anticipation and adrenaline that accompanies everything we desperately want, yet cannot see in entirety.