Ophelia

Ophelia

This painting is inspired by Rimbaud's poem 'Ophélie', which tells of Shakespeare's Ophelia from Hamlet. Probably the only poem by Rimbaud I actually love in its entirety.

Medium: Water-colour, acrylics, water-colour pencils.
Paper: crappy drawing block paper.

Intially intended this for some snazzy metallic crayons I bought the other day alas, when I did the line art for this I got carried away & there's just no way I'm skilled enough to pull it off with crayons. 

Dear Star IV

Dear Star,
         (before I pass out)
I met him today,
The one you Love.
         You were bashful,
It's sweet.
This is no poem,
just a confession.

L.

Snapshot of a page from Love - National Geographic 2008 @ Big Bad Wolf 2012

I am so very tired. Have been venturing out into the world daily since Thursday but here I am. I think it's important to write while soaked with fatigue. It unearthes something deep inside of you.

The letter L. yet again. How should I proceed with this? This has nothing to do with the world at large, nor the people that reside in it. Although, I still believe that something internalized is always birthed from an external influence be it conscious or subconscious. The letter L.The word Love. It's shades of meanings, it's connotations, it's significance, it's exclusive experience. What else?

I love goodness in people. It brings out the goodness in me. I want to be surrounded with eternal goodness. Such clarity. I never feel more alive then when I feel like I've made someone happy or when I see the people I love happy. Ah, but we've been over this many times. I'm no saint. I am simply, romanticizing the self-sustaining nature of altruism. It is an impenetrable circle, the circle of paying a good deed forward. It goes on & on for ever. A circuit of purity.

At this point, I do not care to make myself clear anymore. The soul can only be complete when it is reunited with its creator. That nameless perfection of the self you can sort of grasp through wordless music. Like some shit from Sigur Ros or a piece by Chopin say. That feeling when you are collected and perfectly at ease with your existence. 

Inner peace. 

Is it possible to burn and yearn and be perfectly at peace with the suffering it conjures? I think it is the pinnacle of faith. All beauty in this world is a benevolence of The One. Out of the 99 parts of Mercy, only 1 is bestowed in this world as we know it. What of the other 99? One can't even begin to hope to imagine.

Paradise, heaven, jannah, is more than rivers of honey & wine, flower gardens and beautiful lovers. It is the feeling of completion that is ungraspable in this world. It is all that passionate fire and mute calmness molded into one. A Oneness that is not in this lifetime. Eternity.

Eternity my flying soul across the dark Sky who pines as it falls and burns and cries for a sentient peace.

Cheetah at full-sprint

Cheetahs on the Edge--Director's Cut from Gregory Wilson on Vimeo.

Bones, muscles & sinews working together in a symphony of perfection.
I shed a few tears watching this I kid not.

Subhanallah. Praise be to Allah the Most High.

p.s. To anybody who watches, when the vid fades to black, don't stop! there's more!

Colours of Gaza

White –
      Protruding out of burnt flesh,
the broken bones of their young & old.
      Spirals in their Skies,
the trails of predator drones.
      Innocence of the children,
murdered in a symphony of sirens.

Red –
      Blood on the pavement,
the fruits of violence.
      Blood on Israel’s hands,
the reaper of vengeance.
      Blood on our history,
for allowing inhumanity.

Green –
      Soldiers in uniform,
clutching guns, in-waiting.
      Military tanks,
tracing the borders, in-waiting.
      American dollar bills,
funding the Israeli army.

Black –
      Future of Gaza
teetering at oblivion’s door.
      Apathy of the world
silently spectating.
      Gaping holes
in Palestinian souls.

Gaza

A piece of this world left-out
like a morsel of flesh diseased, cut out
when really what is poisoned
is the entirety of the carcass.

_____________________________________________________________________

Note: The 'flesh', the land, the Gaza strip, perceived as the 'disease', the people (Palestinians) by the Israelis, who set to banish these people from their homes, to 'cut' them 'out'. The rest of the world, the 'entirety', just watching, 'poisoned' as we are by trivialities. Indulgent and ignorant, as the 'carcass' of Humanity rottens.

If it were our country's plight won't we want help?

#Gazaunderattack

#prayforGaza

Nonpareil

The hour is nigh
the silence after your leaving
has seeped into my bones
           and now, I am fading.
None is waiting in the vestibule,
the silence has now aged
so much so that it has perfumed.
         
This is not godless penury,
I am past that.
Nothing but a drawn out valediction
fashioned with masochistic zeal
by my anima to whom,
you shall remain, stand-alone.

Dear Star III

How do I begin my November?
With kisses for the young leaves
and curtsies for the flowers.

To the gallant wind I throw my woes
To my heavy sighs I bid goodbyes
To the Star whom I loved from afar,
I greet you too
               — as I always do.