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Fragments
Fragments Where the darkness kisses the light and the light begs for forgiveness, where the split in time allows the shade of this shadow to sleep within his arms. Where once I lost sight of the beauty of wildness and our unharnessed rapture. Where I dreamt we were children and the wink of your eye became a door to our lives. Where I lost you and you would not return when I asked you why you whispered to me, “the void is where we find one another.” When the emptiness echoed with illuminated sight I saw fragments of myself. I became a witness to the rising of our lust. you remember now____don’t you? © Gesso Cocteau From 'STRANDED HEARTS' An Anthology Of Love Poetry Art by Pete Berg for 'STRANDED HEARTS' An Anthology Of Love Poetry
The Raven
The Raven I am the precipice of the mountain you are standing upon, I am the feather that lands at your feet when you are alone, I am the dream wrapped around you, holding you tight on a cold winter’s eve: I am the moon catching you when you fall from the sky, I am the song of the flower that kisses you good night, I am the wildfire that burns between us. I am the heart that goes on beating even when it is broken, I am the kiss that bruises you, the lust that does not struggle. I am the first time you fell in love from a distance: I am the faithful and the betrayed, the unthinkable, I am the silent lover, the starving lover, the lover who wants to be yours. I am the unfinished stone you searched for in the quarry: I am the naked earth who stands before you awaiting your hammer and your blade. I am the poet, the sculptor and the shadow reading your words, I am the dream between dusk and darkness, I am the pathless woods the broken compass and the poetry lost in translation. I was the one you were seeking because I was seeking you. I was the wildfire that burned between us. ( Now ) I am the embers laying down in darkness. I am temptation, I am the raven. Poetry and Art © Gesso Cocteau
'STRANDED HEARTS' HAS ARRIVED'
A poet can only give her heart away once, the rest is observation. Poets are right to assume that love is eternal, and in a world of temporary things love is the immortal human experience. This is the poetry that sleeps between our love. May we always be bruised by beauty and touched by angels, but may we also be aware of our demons and our shadows, for the heart can only love in truth and these are the ingredients of the human condition.
STRANDED HEARTS
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 _____."
Hunger
To need one another is where we disappear ____
The Way it Felt
It is the way the beginning of winter felt,
Yearning
"Perhaps like the sixth symphony you love so much we are decreed by fate."
What is Passion?
“I want to know what passion is. I want to feel something strongly.” Aldous Huxley Is passion a verb or an adjective? We know that passion is always the source of our most brilliant moments, the wave that sends ecstasy through our veins. It is the gravity that we feel when we get lost in the dance or enchanted by a song. It is the pleasure of sexual energy that is imagined even before the touching takes place. The human body was built and designed to generate passion. Passion conquers fear and sends you into a turbulent storm to feel, something beyond our tame existence Passion burns like a fire that cannot be extinguished by anything other than acting upon your desire. Passion begs for you to ignite every nerve in your body, to burn like a Phoenix and become baptized by sensuous journeys. Let your lust verify that you are a human being, walk into the fire and leave the ashes of love behind. Remember the struggles are what lead you to passion. Still waters reflect the need to feel. Passion will free you, it will gift you with something more beautiful than you can imagine, something stronger, something wilder something that will elevate your soul, give wings to your madness and courage to your life. On a personal note, (my darling Viking) With you I forget to breathe, I starve for you, I crave you, I want to sit before you, listen to you, touch you, love you beyond all reason, wear the scars of our journey proudly and with purpose. You are my passion, you drive me to the primal places of the ‘unfettered howl’.to the edge of the world and beyond, to my knees, to the flames of hell and the softness of heaven. I love you when the winds are silent and when the storms screams. Everything in our world wills me to you, the cloud, the sun, the sky and the earth. Choosing you was not the safest path, but it has been the most glorious and the most passionate. I would do it over and over again throughout eternity. I have learned from you that fear cannot be trusted but taking your foot off the breaks and letting go can take you to the place of mystical roses and translucent waterfalls. I will always write about you in the language of rapture and fire. I will ink our story upon my skin and I will inject our love into my veins. You are my letter to every star in the universe to every soul who cried out for love, to lust as it walks into the arms of craving, to the fates and the ebony raven, through the love storms and into the eyes of seduction. I write for you until this tale of ecstasy falls upon the endless pyre of being. I surrender myself to you, to the forest and the trees, to your shadow and your light, I embrace the happiness and the sorrow you have stitched into my life. You are my only poem, my only sculpture, my only dream. And here is the secret revealed, “falling in love is easy. Falling in love with the same person repeatedly is extraordinary.” Passion is a verb. Omnia vincit Amor: et nos cedamus Amori. Love conquers all, and so let us surrender ourselves to Love. Keep the Faith, Gesso Cocteau September 15, 2022 Illustration by Pete Berg
Expression
Expression (For my friends who tell their stories, decode their mythologies, who stay curious, who go forward without looking back, who dare to inhabit perilous ideas and let themselves be vulnerable.) Wounded words that write their own poetry, minds that are curiously tenacious enough to paint their imagination: Clay that shapes beneath the broken fingers because love leads the artist into dangerous places. Feeling lost at times. and not knowing if you dreamt this poem or it dreamt you, but as artist we go forward and cross our shadows ____ dream our demons Imagine our angels. To stop for one moment and forget who we are suppose to be. To acknowledge that mankind’s human condition never finds its center but is constantly edging up against its boundaries. As artist our creativity is fueled by primitive instinct and cultural conscience. If we see ourselves through others we can create from substance, not the mirrored reality but the reality that embeds itself deep within our awareness. The flower leaves the plant without moaning, without regret without harming, and without need. As artist we can create with passion, with an understanding that desire will never give you what you need, will never quench your thirst or relieve your appetite. That is not the quest of desire, desire leaves you hungry, hunger makes you aware. We fall in love to create, we rise and we assent. It is the will of desire not to be satisfied. It is the artist who must never diminish his or her soul, but to understand the only true freedom we have to create with is within our minds. In the meantime I offer a synopsis In the simplicity of a quote written by Oscar Wilde “The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” Keep creating and keep the faith ____ Gesso Writing and Image © Gesso Cocteau