leoraigarath

Omri Ofek Luzon

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Dancers by leoraigarath, literature

Between the Drawn by leoraigarath, literature

A Letter of Love to a Lover of Letters by leoraigarath, literature

In the Syllable by leoraigarath, literature

Literature

In the Syllable

...then there is a way in diswaiting. Dust some yellow sand covers, here uncover bare bedding. ...suffusing red planes, blushed dunes, under incidentally quilted blanket wet as arid curves, as sounds. ...in a persistent pavement, in a solemn unsuited promise, some written words erase some letters drip and soak unto a perfuse miracle, a dislocated split, a letting go of...

A Letter by leoraigarath, literature

I Do Not Love by leoraigarath, literature

Toast and Coffee by leoraigarath, literature

Literature

Toast and Coffee

I forget our little important things, like the way you like your toast (butter on one side, sugar sprinkled) the way you like your coffee (black, strong, half-filled cup, a drop of sweetener) or the way you like your sex (as hard as love, as sweet as figs). I forget little unimportant things, such as the movie we saw last night (the one with DiCaprio and the cops) the meeting we had with the doctor (and you hate the doctors, in their white robes) the dinner we had by the shore (fat steaks grilled on a burning fire). Maybe I forget them little things, but, you know, when things are gone they pass

A String of Thought by leoraigarath, literature

Literature

A String of Thought

From time to time, as my sightless eyes witness (I fall) and remember - I remember my me. There's no-here-point, nor a true false-salvation as a self-persuasion of an identity, as from this grace grave- yard of eternal worship rises an I, an I now is me. No-long-pride (lost its magic), nor a sane self-redemption. To the endless thoughts of an endless nothing, to the eternal bursting of the finality of death: This, is home.

I Am Lost for a While by leoraigarath, literature

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Dancers by leoraigarath, literature

Between the Drawn by leoraigarath, literature

A Letter of Love to a Lover of Letters by leoraigarath, literature

In the Syllable by leoraigarath, literature

Literature

In the Syllable

A Letter by leoraigarath, literature

I Do Not Love by leoraigarath, literature

Toast and Coffee by leoraigarath, literature

Literature

Toast and Coffee

A String of Thought by leoraigarath, literature

Literature

A String of Thought

I Am Lost for a While by leoraigarath, literature

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Writing Letters At Dusk by Moonbeams, literature

Literature

Writing Letters At Dusk

It's as if the sunset was everything I had to say beneath a spill-- a fancying forgoing form to remain a fancy; aphasia in the clouds of ink meeting tea-stains in the spaces of corners where the eyes always fall to rest anyway as they take it all in -- what there is between two people; how a good day is always offset by a storm, or what will someday eschew its form but is somehow still worthy of a word that leaves you searching for more words until the day is dark and bruised with the meaning of them running ren in streaks over tracks and a ghost train, and you are certain that there was a word for that which moves without moving, c

Some Bulbul by TheBloodWriter, literature

Literature

Some Bulbul

my bulbul had flown a wide ways all Grace-full as The Magpie, but my, isn't she an odd bird? her do all up and front-ways with those red cat-staches. She is all about the tractable frisson, moves the worm to get the earth. The whole weald makes marvel 'look at this here scofflaw!' a claque looking to lapidate something but their bellweather ain't nothing but torchwood and my bulbul, she's got brio! best let her do her thing.

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A Catalogue for Enlightenment by leoraigarath, literature

A Catalogue for Enlightenment

leoraigarath

About leoraigarath

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Artist // Professional // Literature

May 16, 1982
Israel
Deviant for 19 years
He / Him

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Freud, Lacan, Yeats, Shakespeare, Milton, John Donne, Michele Montrelay, Emily Dickinson, Goethe, Baudelaire,

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leoraigarath

Aug 27, 2020

PhD is Not the End

2 min read

I've been working on a PhD. Took me just about two MA's and one BA to arrive at this beautiful moment in life in which I can say that I am working on a PhD. You'd think that working on a PhD is something new... I've been doing this for a couple of years (at least) now. But it sounds new, so here it is. You see, this is the thing with this "new" thing - nothing is never truly new. You've known me -- well, some of you -- for more than 15 years now (time flies!). All this time, and here I am telling you something new. Something that sounds new. Is it really new? It sure feels new. But not because it is new, but because I'm telling you this here. On DA. I haven't been adding anything to DA in a while, and I've been "thinking" about returning to DA here and there. It is pretty difficult to do this, kinda like taking a step backwards -- although not really, the laptop is right ahead, before my eyes. But staying away for so long a time... Things change. This is it - not new, change. A

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leoraigarath

Feb 7, 2017

Devious Journal Entry

0 min read

So... I'm in dire need of a new journal HTML theme + graphics. I have the general direction, but I'm in a dire need of a designer to do this for me... My HTML skills sum up at "hey, if I delete this then... oh... that's not right... !" Anybody knows somebody who can help me in designing this journal thingy? :) Thanks, - Omri

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leoraigarath

Jun 5, 2016

I have too many things on my profile page, I seriously consider a makeup session. Maybe redecorate, update some graphic stuff, maybe change my damn theme. Do you think it is mid-life crisis?