-quote-

Shaun Arts

Look at the Twins: The Camera & I are two minds on one result within a thinking pattern.
A Self-Portrait.

 

 

 

Art is the war that will never have peace.

-Shaun Arts.

-haiku/tanka-

-haiku-

the greek mindset
enlightened living...
missing the point.



-haiku-

tom-boy afternoons
wild, reckless, free, and young...

growing older.

-haiku-

repentant of brandishing

quiet hatred

these heated times.

-haiku-

i have fashioned

quaint afternoons into

disciples of breath.

-haiku-

mouth parted

spoke in tempo

4/4 time, molto leno.

-haiku-

welcomed this day

with hands, soil stained-

knees bent in awareness.

-tanka-

skilled in making

memories of you

a necklace of rising

legs, mid-air samba

closed evenings, cornbread breezes.

-haiku-

brownshinned griot

bath tub immersed

whispered prayings.

-haiku-

voice. mixture.

wind & string in.

stru. ment walking man

-haiku-

in.stru.ment man-

child he, walking

oboe-viola voiced man.

-sonku-

let life be

na.ked.

things exposed

before me,

like Yah.weh.

-haiku-

to mornings'

saxophone in alto-

feet beginning day.

-haiku-

jazz was: silence

tasted the moment

eyes became aware.

-haiku-

lonely soul

feelings of sistahood

carried by bruised river.

©2011

 



Enjoyed a little haiku/tanka tossing with fellow poet, Amoja MoMan Sumler, on facebook.

haiku

blk brotha mane of
lions-the sound of the nile
flowin thru paper veins.

©2011

haiku (AS)

My great Lion of
Judah grandfathers once walked
through the parted Nile.

©2011 AS

tanka

in silence, brotha
to the evening; sittin indian-style
scrapin' his fears in
minor keys, emittin long
blue moans that pepper ears.

©2011

 

-song #1- (toourintent)

some die free
some die young
i say, some die freeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
and some die young...
but we-you and i-
we...we aint
gonna die full...we
gonna die empty...
empty...i said we gonna
die empty.
cause you and i
is gonna pour allllllllllllllllllllllllll
of ourselves into
others; said
you and i
is gonna pour allllllllllllllllllllllllll
of ourselves...
all of the RIghteous things...
the eternal things....
we is gonna pour alllllllllllllllllllllllll
of those creative things
into the soul-goblets of
mankind...
we is gonna pour
allllllllllllllllllllllllllll of our
artistry and our
quiet wis.dom,
we is gonna write
our experience-given dig.ni.ty
on the paper veins
of the huma.ni.ty
charged to our oversight.
you and i...
is gonna bury....you and i
is gonna
plant our inspiration
in the dark soil of
tomorrows' children...we is
gonna etch the
intent of Yahweh
on the bone of the one's to come...
the ones that will
ride the wild
waves of new mornin's and society's
yawn...we is gonna
put substance in
these Son-cups...gonna put
sweet, liquid enrichment and life
in those Son-cups....
then hand them back
to The Divine One.
-cause...-
some die free
some die young
i say, some die freeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
and some die young...
but we-you and i-
we...we aint
gonna die full...we
gonna die empty...
empty...i said we gonna
die empty.

©2011 -Spokesman

 

-quotes-

Shaun Arts

A Self-Portrait: Film Are The Color of My Eyes.
Smiling after Writing my Essay Titled: "I Love You Film" located at: http://www.shaunarts.com/essay-area please read when you can.

Seek a new day of Positive Energy!
Shaun.

Congratulations to all of the Artists who passionately LOVE their Art, way before the agents, managers, fame, middle-people, groupies, drainers, drugs, alcohol, increased income, crunching deadlines, & that desire to express yourself with Art was yours & not theirs!
-Shaun Arts.
(If I put my camera over my Heart, would you call it Love?)

*

'Humbleness teaches wisdom...so I can respect that.'

Shaun Arts

Photograph's Name: Presence.
Photograph's Birthday: 30th of August, 2011.
Photograph's D.N.A.: 120 M.M. Film, I.S.O.: 160.
Photograph's Subject: Terrell Tilford.
In Harlem, it appears as if there is no traffic, no crowds, & no busy factors that makes New York so loud. As he stands in the middle, under the above train-tracks, all comes to a pause.
Shaun Arts.

Credits:
Male Grooming: Makeup Artist: (J) Soul: (www.jsoulmakeup.com)
Photography: Shaun (www.shaunarts.com)

-tanka-
(forpresenceamidstthenoise)

...presence, my man,
you cloaked in the blk-n-white
of a single pause. just you...
yo attractive appeal pryin' opened
the thighs of our mind-greetings...silence.

©2011

 

-tanka-

sepia dreams...this
...russett colored wonder
captured in the eternity
of celluloid...beauty in
dusky refrains...i internalize.

©2011

-tanka-

held his head
hysteria abated.
i held his mental-
runnings collected

with tears.

-haiku-

sharpened my voice

prepared to sing the

cold shoulders you give.

-haiku-

laughter like grapes

bare-feet trailing through

the lost winds.

-sonku-

pagan tears

eroding

altars-

resolute

wonders that

sever sighs.

-haiku-

interim rock garden-

austere in my look

your water licks me

-haiku-

the new place traversed

silent footsteps rendering

journey, exciting.

-haiku-

my bath,

my cell-

textin amg suds.

-tanka-

with pic-axe and

zen like focus,

i chisel for

the stream of

meaning behind your words.

-haiku-

student,

learning ancient art

of being simple.

-tanka-

wiccan ritual...

carving you in trees,

stringing your smile

among autumnal

leaves.

-sonku-

forgive my

pagan ways.

forgive me

for wearing

you as an

amulet.

-haiku-

russett eyes

with measure steps

approaching the bough of my sighs.

-haiku-

it is with regret...

that i close my eyes against

your saffron image.

-haiku-

word-priest, keeper

of breath and sound.

high altar-my lips

-haiku-

nose wide opened

the scent of new africa-

natural looks good on you.

-haiku-

trying something new

nervous about the taste...it is

appealing-i bite.

-haiku-

morning...ingrained

mantra. ritual

prayers-stained glass words.

-tanka-

my mind

this split new

birth, chariots

carrying your brand

of seasoned living.

-haiku-

waltzed the

ripples of you

the waters of life.

-haiku-

this antique

stroll across

bandaged thoughts.

-haiku-

intersection of

King and Gerstner, cars in heat...

heated day pillages.

-haiku-

my sun-cup

the glare hides

negligent demons.

-haiku-

repel this heat

the rites of

the sun-children

-haiku-

it wasn't enough

you sashayed; your hips, fragrant

balinese dreamings.

-tanka-

offered your stone lips

the song of my acrylic

pores- offered you my

wild polynesian laughter,

let us slide down lukewarm nights.

©2011 -Spokesman

6 WordStories

sweltering heat, this curse. #fourwordstory

to envy your stand alone words. #sixwordstory

entangled: an entendre of being. #fivewordstory

opened mouth-the song of existence. #sixwordstory

dinner at an inn, along the cornish coastline. #eightwordstory

my mood is ecru, less inviting. #sixwordstory

[Swiss Moments]

rose on my elbows; eyes staring into the sweet rosy mouth of day.

haiku

crisp and cold...
snow flurries mingling
with the cocoa of princes.

on the balcony facing the alps, wrapped in black and silver ermine.

my plane lands in Lusane-quick clean-up then head to the opera to sing.

intrigued by european towns...royalty and chateaux hiding things.

haiku

assignations amid
the blue noise of swiss
evenings bowing to land.

©2011

Aphorisms VI (30)

((VI))

aphorisms: those words that rein you in when you're in danger of making an ass of yourself.

*

down lexington, we moved like ripe mornings toward altruistic cafe.

*

profanity is overrated and the new language of the intelligent and ignorant; how crass!

*

never fully aware of the volume of eyes glued to your life and words.

*

space junket baby...space junket.

*

one of the times i most respected myself was when I could admit: I don't know everything and never will...and its alright with me.

*

no one picks a book up anymore-each person heading toward purchasing the next best iPad or such.

*

i often wonder if we're heading to a world like Farenheit 451?

*

when i look around reality today; i wonder if what i'm seeing was painted by Salvador Dali.

*

i reach toward what seems furtherest from me in order to move from whats comfortable.

*

and they accused me of wanting to be more than i am now...and they were right.

*

i'm not content to remain a half-full glass.

*

i can't be content to remain a completely full glass.

*

beaver-switches and leaden dams are the portion of idiots and those afraid.

*

Hasenpfeffer: whooo! what an interesting word.

*

their minds, cavorting whipporwills.

*

the story-line of our lives-often meandering deviations that never seem to make sense but comes together at the end.

*

its not up to me to interpret my story (life).

*

with all the babbling...honey, hush!

*

even now, i have to tell myself: GET OVER YOURSELF!

*

i love myself, but i love myself with caution...i know selfishness lurks.

*

no one takes the time to search for understanding anymore.

*

you dont have to force yourself to be simple.

*

it takes too much work to be complex.

*

its a dangerous thing to give what you yourself do not possess.

*

what seest thou?

*

with un-tired, and unobstructed eyes; I see beyond now and tomorrow.


*

each thought attracts an experience? good gosh! What have I been thinking?

*


thinking :: the lost child of silence.


*


...realized, my life talks entirely TOO much nonsense.





©2011

[thats what she said...when confronted with lust]

into the pc-photos of male forms inciting my hands to move.

and when the moment came, i wanted my hands in his boxers...touching.

saw him grbbin his package...holding it with power....i hungered.

had a thang for derrier's...a crucial desire for men with asses...

too many nights-half passed three; hands near my loins-stoking embers...release.

masturbation-my selfish gratification-a quick stroke.....release...

©2011

7 haiku [nasty]

casually perused-
pics in stages of undress...
sexuality incited

mouth watering...
memories of me-stairwells-
you-and lust stiffly releasin'

secretly...i dig
the down-n-dirty, oh-so-
nasty nastiness of lust...

my tongue-
like wide-opened thighs
for scent-n-look of a thug.

wicked mouth...
lips wrapped @ your altar...
incantin' ivory releases..

sometimes my
thoughts are filthy...the kind
where we do anything.

seduction often
comes-heady and potent...
often i want to come as well.

[beauty of mankind]

man...always striving to pick his own self up from the dust of the earth.
man...always seeking new and better ways to live life apart from The
One who authored his very existence.
man...so beautiful and resplendent of His creation's; yet woefully and often
sadly ignorant...
man...utterly beautiful in his/her physique...yet painfully unaware of the
source of His being.
man...always striving to pick his own self up from the dust of the earth.
man...always seeking new ways to live, move, and have being apart from
The One...
man...seemingly destined to repeat the same degenerated, erroding cycles
until man...will just wake up and admit.....

I can't function in and of myself.

©2011

haiku

we people hve
grown skittish with the
idea of being the future.

haiku

his thunder came
sound of hoof-beats-
approach of horsemen.

haiku (atdaysinn-myboss'esson)

crazy little indian boy....
appearing from around corners-
close to being knocked out!

[Rainy Days] (*legends)

the approaching rain...curled up on the sofa; eyes staring at unseen things out
of the panoramic picture window. eyes staring, seeing nothing and all things.
dreaming...and seeing that one...the one with the cajun chestnut hued skin and
hazel pools of occular perfection that crinkle with mischevious laughter...rainy days.

*legends: 50 word short stories.

Rainy Wednesday...

tanka

earthy palms
flailing in the wind-
some errant storm god
pouring his power
'cross the powdered city.

sonku

little rain chants...
when we
hve brokered
our
emotions
into sighs.

tanka

overcast skies meet-
cars rapidly heading to
find shelter, protect
their coats-we merge and remove
ourselves from this reality

©2011

tanka (fortoffeewhowalks)

        toffee walks-
             struttin his strut along
   the baulstrades of reality
               blk man...his walk produce
  sound...that art...that distinction...reality.

©2011 #SongCycles

1 tanka/1 haiku

(to the man w/the voice of an angel)

mouth-gateway of Yah

oiled and sanctioned-His.

*Meistersanger of The Divine's pleasure

dusky mezzo sing-painting in melody

images of life, death, and in-btwn.

u produced patchouli

words that merge with

the blue nights in my blood.

©2011

1 haiku/1 tanka

each footfall-
a memorial to

life already spoken.

*Winterreise   

cold journey of the

soul through doors of

emotions that sift and

seperate men frm basketcases...

colors of our makeup.



*Winterreise (German: Winter's Journey)

©2011

Aphorisms V (40)

((V))

in silence one learns, matures, and becomes certain and sure.

*

...anointed, but not my time. silent years.

*

my lifestyle must teach, preach, prophesy, and testify long before my mouth ever opens.

*

cast suspicions like McCarthy...

*

the life of a classical vocalist...intriguing and tumultuous.

*

focused creativity: nursed in the arms of silence and learning, then executing.

*

i gave myself over to art, gave myself over to music...

*

somewhere at sometime i ceased to exist; and everything about me was music.

*

with music i discovered the fulcrum of my life....the crux of my existence...it was Him in song.

*

the poet's love...his *dichterliebe...transcends mere words...

*Dichterliebe (German: Poet's Love)

*

has your passion become a healthy obsession...#SongCycle

*

...things dont JUST occur, even in nature, there is a cause and reason.

*

Christianity...the PEOPLES' religion! (now THIS is extremely scarry, BUT its our reality.)

*

...living each moment, savoring all its colors, BUT not making moments permanent residences.

*

exhaust a moment for all of its lessons and benefits, but keep moving forward.

*

Choose the moments you engage in. Dont live in every moment. Only the ones that are worthwhile and beneficial.

*

impacted lives produce results.

*

when's the last time you rebuked yourself for teaching something you don't live?

*

those that are their own worse critics are still biased and subsequently lenient even on themselves.

*

most times I tell myself to just SHUT UP!

*

internal dialogue can be the most damning influence on your forward progression.

*

arrested development??? arrest the development of junk that impedes your growth!

*

sassafras...what an interesting word.

*

scavenger of life...diggin thru this muck for valuables.

*

sold all of my inferiorities...

*

his conversation was the fuel to my lust-CUT OFF!

*

and they debated, trading philosophies...i walked away.

*

unfruitful debating only serves to work my and any man's nerves.

*

'i love you' the biggest lie most mankind tells; we really mean 'i lust you.'

*

in my mind: heading to my chateau in Lusane, Switzerland.

*

met a man from switzerland...i want to go even more.

*

stark honesty with self about self ALL the time!

*

cut NO corners with myself!

*

things often become fresh, full of life, and exciting when you change the eyes of your perception.

*

when i was young; flattery mixed with lust was exciting-now, its old and ridiculous!

*

betrayed myself with me...when i wasn't starkly honest with me.

*

made me hungry enough to trust him

*

gave me-and somebody made off with all my stuff...

*

its now so fashionable to have problems.

*

the public loves people with self-destructive lives.

©2011

sonku

hey man i...

mean...yeah...ummm

what way

yo blood flow?

...yo silence

roar of tears.

©2011

8 NumWdSty (Number WordStories)

this heat-unwelcome rapist of our strength. #sevenwordstory

rocking daylight in tired arms. #fivewordstory

shade of sexuality misleading. #fourwordstory

wasn't ever imaginative-downfall. #fourwordstory

their games became redundant. #fourwordstory

peering into the face of the deep. #sevenwordstory

question that let you inside. #fivewordstory

mmmm...yes...yes now. #fourwordstory

©2011

9 haiku/2 monoku

somehow lost

me, swirling

stomach of you.

cedar dreams stationed

bleak, earthy ungents spread

life-moments that merge.

(for Pastor WLJ2)

man. whose sun-dried hue

uplifting bursts of feel-good

invoke laughter prayers.

the man

walking in colors

wearing summer storms.

to journey

before arriving, i lift my

life goblet-ceremony.

used our mouths

we would pastor

rippling dreams.

broken glass

reality-you've cut

your feet of optimism.

various images

becomes the coat

around bare shoulders of conscience.

my mouth

safari chant-high praise

our celebration of love.

2 MONOKU

5am caress.smirk and surprise unwarranted.

no summertime words green enough to grow me.

©2011

8 haiku

indian summers
the chant of tom-toms release

this daytime voodoo.

walked his

fears-this

indian summer

blk man

hoarding the songs

of your pregnant mornings.

yellow gal

walking tearstreaks-

sour whoredoms.

he held me

scraping thunders

the wings of suspense.

engorged

eyes beholding

spicy laughter.

mouth wide

symphonic instruction

when words sing.

thinking

priviledge reserved

for the creative.

©2011

5 Tanka

I

said you love me

many other ones

you love-i let

you back in the sound

broken glass moving inside me.

II

and i dance

creations and old

women gathering

melodies from

bones.

III

by the wisdom

of suns

arch me softly-

womb ripe

walking new breaths.

IV

witching hour

envisioning

oboe-dark whispers

this orchestra of

solidarity.

V

i am

wet with

meanderings

the chant of

sri lankan hymns.

©2011