SOON TO BE RELEASED - STRANDED HEARTS
An Anthology of Love Poetry
Written by Gesso Cocteau
Illustrated by Pete Berg
"Now I understand
the secret of redemption,
I will never forget you.
We are forever
stranded hearts _____."
STRANDED HEARTS
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The Hunger
The Hunger It is the edge that matters. The place where the meadow grass stops and the dark wood begins. Not the easy center, which never welcomed anything that mattered. Desire lives here. In the breath that lingers, before the skin touches. It is the pulse of what might happen. Tell me, how do we mistake this necessary instinct for salvation? Once, we were a singular body, whole, but carrying two fates. The split left its bright, cold hollow, a wound the sun could never warm. A hunger the centuries could not erase. This is why flesh reaches first. Why the stranger can feel like recognition. Not a miracle, but a memory made visible. The opening scene of lust is always the most dangerous. The seduction: it burns cleaner than the act, leaves fewer scars, yet goes deeper. I create now from the place above the wound. From the knowing that this longing is only an inheritance, a map drawn deep into our souls. There is a black bird of instinct and memory perched inside me, watchful, elemental, whispering that eros was never meant to save me, only to awaken me. ©Gesso Cocteau GessoCocteau #GessoCocteauPoetry #GessoCocteauArt
Before the Bronze: The Shape of Forever
In the language of clay, love is never still,it keeps forming us, endlessly, into Forever. Forever (for the Viking) In the beginning, there was only clay and breath,the quiet surrender between two forms learning how to be one.Every curve, every reach, remembers touch,not the touch that ends, but the kind that begins againeach time one heart leans toward another. I call this Forever because it carries the weight of love that has no edge,no border between body and spirit, giver and receiver.It is the moment before bronze,when the pulse of creation is still visible,alive beneath the fingertips that shaped it. Here, they stand,not as man and woman, not even as figures,but as the echo of devotion itself.A reminder that love is never still;it keeps forming us, over and over,until we recognize ourselvesin the arms of another. — Gesso Cocteau This is Forever in the foundry completed in clay and before the mold is made. I will post the piece when it is completed in Bronze.
True Love
True Love “Make me immortal with a kiss.” — Christopher Marlowe There are moments as an artist when creation feels less like invention and more like revelation, as if the piece already exists in another realm and you are simply the vessel pulling it through.True Love came to me in such a way. Two forms entwined, not just in body, but in essence, suspended, weightless, eternal.I thought of the Marlowe line: “Make me immortal with a kiss.”And I understood.Some kisses are not between lipsthey are between lifetimes.I wrote this poem as an invocation of that fire. True Love (for Carl) Make me immortal,not with words,but with the wayyour hands erasethe boundary of my skin.We are already myth,two bodies forgedin the same crucible of need,the same molten breaththat shaped the stars.You lift me into youas if gravity were only a rumortold by thosewho have never touched eternity.Kiss me,and let deathfind us fused,still burning. Poetry and Image© Gesso Cocteau