Tuesday, February 11, 2014

Poetry by K.K.W

This months cover by K.K.W,
with layout by Aleksandar Ares.
"..and if I die before I learn to speak...can money pay for all the days I've live awake, but half asleep?" (1) Post by Aleksandar Ares, Poems & photos by K.K.W
A little bit of golden light [Near Grand Army Plaza,
Brooklyn N.Y]
                       Thy night is brisk,
                   with subdued temperatures
                         Flowing behind,
                   a hue quite somber in soul,
                     though spirited in shade
                          Tinted cobalt
                 with undertones...of silent screams.
                            [New York]
In pursuit of the perfect Martini. 
                      A spark in the night
                      Whispers in the wind
              Moments building, to over-flowing joy
                Against the grain I seek to touch,
                the heart of it, in spite of lust
                 No more jests, the lies are gone
             Take my hand...or leave me to my grief.
                     [A moment of clarity]
Wurdulac (The Vampire Aleksandra).  
                A look, a glance, a favored thing
                 Turn now to me, and give me this
              Your words from thoughts, deep within,
                    favor me above all others
                     Let me savor all of you
                   Keep me warm in your embrace
                  Trust in me...I crave only you.
                       [30 days of night]
Sonja on Mott street, near  Bleeker.
                More a thought, in place of pain,
                   rather than an open phrase
         A word of lust, bespeaking an effervescent kiss
                Atop my ego...I fall to her grace.

Lunar eclipse [the digital rose] 
K.K.W (Kerwin Kendell Williamson) is a visual artist, poet, art-critic, curator & internationalist. These four poems are from his early works (2007 - 2009), when he lived on Saint Marks Place in Brooklyn, N.Y (sharing the top floor of a town-house with Monika - a young woman of Polish decent from Baton Rouge, Louisiana who was his muse, at the time). (1) from the song "Standing outside a broken phone with money in my hand" by Primitive Radio Gods. If you would like to view some of his art-work, go to:www.fotoblur.com/people/kerwin
"Art is the reason, art is the way"

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