Caught up in this fire brigade
I forget where you are sometimes
Behind the tree leaves
Of a distant paradise
It’s where I want you belonging
Free and happy
Viable and beautiful
No gray clouds cast over your skies
Limitless possibilities
Smiling, playing with rocks
I just want to see you happy
Like this
It’s what gives me joy
Your eyes
Forever imprinted in the leaves
Your eyes through the shreds of a leaf
Colorful gem
Against the deep green
Looking at me
You fly away, you slip away
You hide in mirrors and evening stars
Their reflections show, who you are
In colors, and winds, and in the arts
You’re magic man
You lure delight
From dawn ’till dusk
Day and night
You swim in veins
Like stormy tides
There’s more to you
Than anything here
You dance with light, slip in wine
You dazzle bright, and shame the sun
There’s more to you
Than anything here
You fly with shadows
And stay in mirrors
Reflecting
Shimmers…
I became a real vegetarian six years ago. The thought of someone suffering overpowers the taste. Little by little I’m noticing that I don’t need much at all.
Clutter binds me; I want to detach myself from things that I don’t use. I don’t care to put on too much makeup, I don’t care too much about fashion…
I just want to have natural and genuine relationships with people. Maybe that’s why in parties I seem happy, because I am… letting myself get questioned. But every time I feel the pressure to behave like how I should, I clam up.
Deep in the forest, by the cave, I sit with animals who keep me company from the distance. We don’t say a word and we don’t touch at all, but I feel like they’re listening to the melody of my heart. I look at a hare and think that I could never hurt it. The hare hops away to do what it does in order to live. I look down and play with rocks in my hand. The sun manages to beam through the tree branches into the woods. It feels so lonely out here once in a while. With whatever little I have left, sometimes I feel like I myself am disappearing. I walk the forest trails following this strong, invisible thread of love. I push through the leaves and look as far as I could to see if I could find him. I don’t know if it even leads to anywhere, but it’s the only thing that gives me hope.
Born in Switzerland, Alphachanneling is the pseudonym of an artist based in Oakland, California. Inspired by, as they put it, “Taoism and tantra, pornography and folk art, BDSM and the divine, the mystical and the occult, indigenous and outsider art”, Alphachanneling creates a utopic world of intensely deep sexual experiences devoid of shame or judgement.…
The sea side is far from here. The meadows sway in their own faint little tunes. This grain matches my mustard color sweater. I like the color of the sun; the way the light reflects across the sky in beams and touches my sweater. If you were to look closely into my eyes, you’d see the reflection of the blue sky that I’m glancing at. I can’t help but somewhat smile. I feel that he is here. That he knows just where to find me over these hills. Today’s a beautiful day, and I can’t help love this beautiful earth with its majestic colors… I guess I’m a pauper. I’d rather lie out here and live to live like this, and die like this. I never want to be in a different state. I wouldn’t know myself when I’m angry. It isn’t who I think of. Skin red and hot, flushing blood. And the speed at which I run, running away, running towards. This lust for power… no. I just want to be in love forever. Your heart is so genuine, and so lost we are together. Your eyes, there’s a spiral staircase in them that goes somewhere. I’m lost. I lose. There’s a white flag rising next to me; I’m no fighter. You, the world that created you, this world that we’re lying atop; this is all that ever means anything, this is all that I’ll ever remember. I don’t even expect you to find me here, you’re with me everywhere.
How real is this fact
That I’m out here, able and intact
Underneath shelters and shelters of
Clothes, blankets and thick walls
Preserved in like a specimen
Segregated and closed off in a pitch black cellular chamber
That’s silent, faraway, and forgotten
Awake, with a buried heart that wonders
Whether there’s a man in a forest
Who could hear
