Preparation in the Coliseum, 1912, Lawrence Alma-Tadema

Medium: oil,canvas

The Laboratory, 1849, Dante Gabriel Rossetti

Portrait of actress Fanny Janauscher, Arnold Bocklin

Figure on a moonlit lane, John Atkinson Grimshaw

Walking on the road

Drunk and dancing

Shall we hum and sing

What we never knew

Baby, maybe we are not the stories

Meant to be together

But can't we be the song

Beautiful and sweet

Listening to which

Dreams shall come

Of sunshine and smiles

So come and look into my eyes

Oh boy, do I love that

Shy smile playing on those lips

But tonight is about

Dancing to memories

Memories we have decided

To create in some tomorrow

You heard it love

Memories to be created

For we are sunflowers

And are we the sun

So we dance and love

From miles and miles

But I know and so do you

That this is the love

That feels home

That feels perfect

©swagatika

The Battle of Giaour and Hassan, 1835, Eugène Delacroix

Medium: oil,canvas

Saint Alipiy the Iconographer, 1893, Viktor Vasnetsov

Death of Sigismund Augustus at Knyszyn, Jan Matejko

Michal Korybut, Jan Matejko

omg lost 9 followers last night for saying ff isn’t activism 🤩

Peace at Sunset (Evening in the White Mountains), Thomas Cole

Medium: oil,canvas

Phials of light

Seek not love All I know is where it used to resonate The space turned vacant

A loveless cage

You, who shall not be bound To words... Primordial queen... goddess Terms fall short, and as such It is senseless

I confess to you my callous emptiness

I have turned a collector

A thief, wielding  A blade-like quill, stealing Snippets of brightly souls To display their Comforting luminescence, beaming

There, where love used to resonate

All the lights Have been swindled

Covertly obtained, and small enough To never be missed; never be noticed In being taken

Infatuation Never acted upon Due to its fleeting nature Yet appropriated Eternalized in inspiration; bottled up To prevent the foreordained Escaping From loveless cage

A display case

All these phials of light...

They are mine And as such, the world’s For though they’re prized possessions They are not my own

When I am gone At long last engulfed by the darkness I now so egotistically fend off in some Unjustly claimed right To existence

All will be released as stars; as poems Infused with the hope to shine ever on

Yet I will be annulled Completely

Finally metamorphosed to this Callous emptiness

Wherein each snippet of soul was stolen To see a life, long stripped from purpose By placebic virtue, prolonged

--- 19-6-2021, M.A. Tempels ©

~~ 𝒷𝑒𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝓃𝓇𝒾𝓈𝑒....

𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑜 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑒 but 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑛𝑒.

𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑜𝑝𝑙𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑖𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑙𝑜𝑤!

𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑑𝑜 𝑡𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑎𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑔𝑜?

~illusoryescapee

Kazimierz I Odnowiciel, Jan Matejko

Somewhere in him, a shadow turned mournfully over. You had to run with a night like this so the sadness could not hurt.

Ray Bradbury, Something Wicked This Way Comes

if anyone ever wants info / advice about sugaring / being a SB i’m 100% down to talk about it because it was a big part of my life pre-covid ( less now, but looking back into ). i’d probably not write a sb//sd relationship romanticized if you’ve never been part of that life / into other sex work just because it can come off the wrong way when you haven’t really. experienced anything similar. 

Ruins by J. M. W. Turner (1775 - 1851)