Monday, 28 June 2010

note to self?

i do believe it is time for a new theme. this time round, we will be tackling hector's choice of DENTAL TRAUMA. please feel free to go back and generate more delicious content for the old topics though (NEW YORK, FOOD STUFFS, WHEN I GROW UP, I WANT TO BE______, FANTASTIC MACHINES, SONGS).

if you have any suggestions for new topics, just shout me a hollar yo!

Wednesday, 23 June 2010

dental trauma: first kiss

I have bit
my tongue for too long
on this one.

I know that conscience
and the cold bite hard,
and rhyme is a twisting

tongue, is a sound leaf
caught between
two lines of teeth,

but this was torture.

Your cigarette
was a lovebite at the night's
cold neck

a brush of teeth along her black
back, a perfect kiss
in the cold air. So when

your lips brushed mine
I could not help but wonder

between the rush
of teenage lust and tooth
and tongue, salivasap,

your lip
managed to trap
itself between my metal brace

and gum, biting
itself into submission
bleeding, suffering, then numb

as kisses became kickboxing
to escape, save face,

to free your tongue
like a bird of song
from its newfound cage:

my bruising, glinting brace.

Monday, 14 June 2010

fantastic machines

jetpacks! now with colour! and baseball-playing giant robots!

Monday, 7 June 2010

welcome to the black parade- my chemical romance

okay, so this isn't exactly an illustration for that song but the idea was heavily ripped off- uh, i mean inspired by- james jean's shit hot artwork for the album

god, that man is a freaking hero.


i feel shame.

my body is a cage- arcade fire

oh wow. this is just a little bit emo-tastic. listening to that song got this image of some dude trapped under a layer of skin stuck in my head but i lack the chops to pull it off even halfway decently. waaaah.


Tuesday, 1 June 2010

The Headmaster Ritual- The Smiths

Belligerent ghouls run Manchester schools
Spineless swines, cemented Minds

Sir leads the troops, jealous of youth

Same old suit since 1962

Mid-week on the playing fields
Sir thwacks you on the knees

I wanna go home
I don't wanna stay
Give up education
As a bad mistake

P.s. my blog address has changed to
(you may need to 're-follow' me) sorry dudes

Lail Arad, Everyone is moving to Berlin

It’s all going down in East Berlin.She swept her long hair over her shoulder and swayed the table decisively. He looked at her and took a little sip of his cool beer. He'll never be able to fit me in, she thought, between that faded old sofa and the cranky fridge with half-drunk bottles of Weisswein and the hung-up washing and steaming cups of dark tea on the sideboard of the shop. Never, if not tonight.

She thought he'd liked her that day on the U-Bahn. She couldn’t work out what was a memory and what she’d invented. Was he itching to take her bottom lip between his teeth, as she was, and gently bite?

He paid for her drink and winced. “Sorry, my contacts, hang on a sec.” He was so polite, it was exhausting. It was a little cold. She wanted him to warm her up, to put his electrifying fingers on her shoulders and squeeze.

“Got a light?”

“Sure.” He flicked a flame between their lips, briefly. Crumpled lung chrysalis. Was it just breath, or was there something else forming between them, as sweet and flickering as smoke?

Lail Arad / Everyone is moving to Berlin