artemissere

Born to capture these rapturous reflections.
Burn them into the eyes of others.

We are the cameras of the damned,
the Polaroids of the dispossessed.

Our truth is travesty;
our history disasterous casting.

We walk amongst them, but never feel.
Represent their lies, with a brush surreal.  

We are a race, not a
harmoniously moving herd.  

We flock.  

We fck.

We fight, never give up,
never give in, never have balance,
find far more ends
than beginnings.

Who are we
after all,
we of broken
springs

Who are we
but the fallen
queens and
kings

of yester
day

I've been away for some time.  I have missed you, and look forward to checking out more art from DeviantArt artists in the near future.  

While I was away, I completed my first published piece, "Obscurious". It is a dark catharsis, an artistic anthology of my works of poetry, philosophy, short fiction, photography and graphic art.  Some of the art that you've seen in my Gallery also appears in the book.  I will be posting more snapshots in the coming weeks, and welcome you to purchase a copy for yourself through Lulu.com (search 'artemis sere').  The price of the book is a reasonable $15.00, and contains 156 6x9 pages of my written and visual nomadness.

Thanks for your interest in my works.

Cheers,

artemis

from "The Bonesetter's Revenge (Book 1: Obscurious)"
copyright 2010 Artemis Sere

and now swiftly
we slip
back
into our colubrid
skins, answering
the silence
with words
that may never
be said again,
distinctly
disparate of
the subtle
hopes afforded
to the unbroken
and spoken
for,
slithering between
tall severing blades
and into
scaled shades
of two people
slipping toward
oblivion,
greener grass
losing pigment
to lifeless
gray, praying
with mantis hands
that these cycloid
shucks protect
against
the bitter winds
of unnatural
selection

from "The Bonesetter's Revenge (Book 5: Purgatorian Days)"
copyright 2010 Artemis Sere

fly south
my love
follow the arrowsign
of flapping feathers
as they guide
to warmer climes
and freer times
in synchronous
measure
ever southward
ever bound
to home;

flow south
my love
the pomegrante
withers on the vine
so far from fertile
so wide from life
its seeds tumble
into silence
its skin recedes
with deference
as the pit calls
and draws you
back, infernal
treasure
ever downward
ever bound
and alone;

flee south
my love
shed your dreaded
locks across the dying fields,
upon the fleeing flocks
and the harvest wield
we welcome your return
and celebrate your escape
our dead are dreaming
and living awake
so flee the failing light
return to effigious days
of pleasure
ever backward
ever bound
and praised;

so hurry south
my love
drift on the billowing winds
follow the arrowsign
on the avian horizon
as it leads the way
to happier times
and hidden climes
in perilous
measure
ever homeward
ever bound
and beheld

by hell

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(v.1) from "The Bonesetter's Revenge"
(Book Four: The Dire Craft) copyright 2010 Artemis Sere

isolation
is a quiet voice
that grows louder
in the absence
of sound,
until it
consumes
the echosome
acoustics
of your heart,
logic and
harmony,
and creates
a discordant
cacophony of
the bound and
the doomed

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