mercredi 21 août 2019

Yes, of course...



Yes of course
Of course you know
Don't tell me no
You know I am in love
In love with you
Yes, with you. In love with you.
Who else ? There are the both of us
Just the two of us, right now.
So, who else? Nobody else, darling...
Just you and me...
So let me...
Let me kiss...
Let me caress...
Let me hug...
Let us...
Let's go...

Someone should tell you...



Someone should tell you
How lovely you are
What love is about
Why you are so lovable
Why I love you...


Somewhere in Asia...



It was such a slow, a sweet, a sensual, a never ending ritual...

I will never forget how magnificent you were... 

I will never forget the music, the perfume, the poetry of your body...

Tee shirt




"Et lorsque...
Lorsque j'ai commencé à soulever ton tee shirt rose...
Et lorsque de tes mains tu as ôté ce tee shirt rose...

Et lorsque...
Lorsque mes doigts ont ouvert ta ceinture...
Déboutonné ton jeans, et qu'il a glissé le long de tes cuisses...

J'ai vu se dévoiler un corps lisse et odorant, une peau douce et sensuelle,
Un corps timide et audacieux, dans l'attente des premières caresses...
Qui ne frémirait que sous les lèvres de mes premiers baisers...

Et lentement, avec une infinie douceur, dans un tendre corps-à-corps,
Un corps-à-corps de garçons timides, amoureux, timides,
Je t'ai accompagné dans le lent fondu enchaîné d'une étreinte

D'une étreinte sur le lit de notre première nuit..."

Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers, 1996.

Why?



Why?
Why is so difficult?
Well, loving someone is not THAT difficult...
But being loved back...
Why is it so difficult?


Selfie



There was something
Something in your smile
Something in your eye
Something beyond what words can tell
Something like a sweet, a silent music...

You...



Wake up!



Pompeo Batoni — The Return of The Prodigal Son —  1773  (detail) 

vendredi 16 août 2019

The Art of Gaston Goor: Mourning



Gaston Goor - Pastel Drawing - 1962  (Private collection)

Vintage Memories


Why are you looking at me?


 Gaston Goor. Pastel drawing. Detail.
Private collection

The Art of Gaston Goor



Original drawing for Renaud Icard's Mon Page novel.
(Private collection)

First editition of the French novel by Editions Quintes-Feuilles (2009)

https://www.quintes-feuilles.com/Mon-Page/

You are so cute...



You are the most beautiful boy I never met
You are the most charming the cutest
You have a unique charm a seducing power
You make me speechless breathless

Oh well I can just say three words

I love you

For you




I don't know
If a boy or a girl
A man or a woman
Were ever loved
As much
As I love you..

You know who you are

At least I hope so

But maybe not

Who knows

Un jour peut-être...



"Un jour peut-être
Tu t'offriras à mes caresses
A mes étreintes
Je ne sais si c'est à moi
A moi de prendre
Ou à toi
A toi de donner

Un jour peut-être
Je prendrai
Tu donneras
Sans que l'on sache
L'alpha et l'omega"

Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers, 1996.

Human life



A loves B
B loves C
C loves A

Tragedy?
Comedy?
Just human life...

What is the taste...



... of lips I did not kiss yet?

mercredi 14 août 2019

Veni Vidi Amavi



 



Eyes



Gus Van Sant — Elephant



Thoughts from a sleepless night...



Remembering eyes and faces...



First kiss



I think after our first kiss, our first embrace,
I would slowly and gently remove your shirt
And unveil your smooth chest and torso...

My fingers would slowly travel across
The sweet and soft plain of your body
And then, I guess, they would unbutton your jeans...

And open the path towards unexplored areas...

Arcadian Dream



If I was Vergil or Theocritus,
Strato or Meleager, 
I would write endless poems
About the beauty of your face,
About the outline of your lips,
About your golden skin,
About your unforgettable gaze.

You are my Arcadian dream...

I know we already met



I know we already met
In so many dreams
In the deep of the night

I know we were lovers
And we recognize each other
When you visit my soul

I remember the taste of your lips
The sound of your voice
The warmth of your body...

mardi 13 août 2019

There is nothing I can do about it...


 


Celebration



Pale skins / Honey-colored



Pale skins I like, but honey-colored more,
And blond and brunette boys I both adore.
I never blackball brown eyes, but above
All, eyes of scintillating black I love.

---

Are pale skins my favorite, or
Honey-hued adolescents? What is more,
Liking blond and brunette,
I love brown eyes—and yet
Scintillating black eyes I adore.


Strato, Greek Anthology.
Two alternative translations by Daryl Hine


Which one do you prefer?

Ganymedes



Without the beauty of boys, Western Art would be so poor...

Perhaps sometimes in the near future, political correctness and homophoby will ban such paintings from our museums...

What is your name?



White Beach / Plage blanche


(© sportfotos-online.com)


There are no dreams without a white horizon
There is no desire without memories of a lost paradise
Beauty is infinite as the sky above a white beach...

samedi 10 août 2019

Offering



For You / Pour toi






You know who you are
Tu sais qui tu es

So very deeply


 


Eros


(Louvre Museum)

"His eyes flash beauty sweet enough to scorch:
Does Love equip young boys with thunderbolts?
Bringing a sexy gleam to mortal dolts,
Myiscus, shine on earth, my darling torch."

Meleager, Greek Anthology
(translated by Daryl Hine, Puerilities. Erotic Epigrams of the Greek Anthology, Princeton University Press, 2001)

Arcadian dream


(© sportsphoto-online.com)


"Pure beauty, you were at the peak of pure beauty
Just a delicious flower in the sand hills
On a a secret beach, far, far away from the real world...

Why do you make dream and imagine so much?
Why are you inspiring me so many thoughts, feelings and memories?
You are an enticing music that will haunt my heart forever...

Will we meet again, in the sand hills of my dreams?
Will we be friends and lovers in the archipelago of my desires?
I am afraid you are not real... You are a dream, a mirage...

You are the mirror of my soul, of my heart, of my unconscious
You are a poem, a music, a perfume, a vision I will never forget
Where are you gone, my delicious ephebe, where are you now?"

Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers, 2001 
(translated from the French by Mark D.)