lundi 31 octobre 2016

Alter Ego...

Choreography of pleasure...


A healthy boy should drink....


Early Morning....


Summer Memories


The boys were trying to impress me...
Look at my arms, at my muscles... 
I am the strongest, the cutest....

The shade said: "Follow me..!"


Summer Memories


Boys were laughing and screaming, dancing and playing...

I would love....


I would love to hear the sound of your voice, to see the way you smile, the way you laugh...
I would love to caress your hairs with my hand, and perhaps my fingers could also explore smooth face, your cheeks, your chin...
I wonder what is the colour of your eyes, what is the taste of your lips...
I don't know if you are real, or if I am just dreaming you, but some dreams can be real, right ?

Eyes are the gates of the soul...



The Art of Sacrevoir


Bronze Statue
Kassel
2005

The Arcadian Dreams of Wilhelm von Gloeden


Doux garçon aux yeux bleus... / Sweet boy with blue eyes...



Franchir le seuil / Crossing the threshold


samedi 29 octobre 2016

Silver Dream...


I would never dare...


... to wake you up, my loved one...
Because our first night was so long and sleepless...
That I feel so well how to sleep you need now,
Dreaming about our embraces and our caresses,
Our kisses and our loving words,
Our desires and the peak of our pleasure...
The two of us were just one,
Now you are you, again...

I remember...


... your two ear rings...
and your necklace with a bullet from WWW2...
... and your boyish face...
And you chest, yes a boyish chest too...

I remember I loved you...

Academic Study...


Asian face....


I don't know why Asian boys are so appealing to me...

Because they are boys, indeed...

But there is something more...

I love the shape of their eyes...

I love the smoothness of their face...

I love their mystery... They are like unknown islands to explore...

I love Asian boys because their faces, their eyes have a story to tell me...

I love their lips too because they are unknown flavours to taste...

Yes, I love Asian boys...

What is a boy ?


Such a difficult question...
I am not sure words can answer it...
A pic, perhaps ?

Sweet music...


I don't know if it is a dream, a desire, a sorrow, a memory, or a hope maybe...
But is is a sweet music...

What is the point with my blog...?


What is the point with a blog such as mine ?

It is such an intimate, a personal blog... A blog where I post words and pics I cannot share elsewhere...

How could such a personal diary be posted on a social network such as blogger, and how could anyone else than me be interested in this words, in these pics ?

There are obvious homoerotic overtones, and I know I am not the only one to hear and enjoy them...

But I guess Eros in Arcadia is not a mainstream gay blog...

There is no sex, no pornography...

However, feelings, poetry, thoughts are perhaps the true pornography in our post-modern word, in the Web 3.0.

Anyway, my blog is about desire and beauty, not about fast sex... Enjoying the beauty of a boy on a pic, finding the right words to write about it is a matter of time, of distance...

My blog is about time and distance as well as it is about boys and their beauty...

I guess according to the current criteria of political correctness, I am just a pervert...

Words are useless...


... when eyes say so much...

In the deep of the night...


"In the deep of the night, I saw you, I saw you in my bedroom...
I don't know how you came in, the window was closed...
But perhaps the gate of my most intimate dreams was open...

I saw you in the deep of the night, your nude body mirrored moon light,
And I felt your presence, you came to me, you came to my bed
And I felt you coming close to me, I felt your warm body and your breathe,

And a first kiss you gave me, and with a shy caress I thanked you,
And I felt your arms around my neck, and the smoothness of your chest
Slowly glided along mine, while my legs winded around yours...

I wish I will never wake up from this dream, I wish it will last forever,
Or rather I wish it is not a dream, and that I am not making love with a shade,
You are so real, I feel your body, your warmth, your breathe against mine,

So lucky I am if don't share this bed, this night, with my imagination...."

Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers, 1998.
(translation by Mark)


Blue eyes...


Pink lips...

There is such a sweet harmony of colours in a cute boy's face...

Et Ego in Arcadia...


If I was Theocritus or Vergil, 
I would sing your beauty,
Young unknown shepherd
I met in the deep of the forest...

If I was a painter or a sculptor,
I would get inspiration from your beauty,
From your graceful body and smiling face,
And hard I would try to make you as lovely as you are...

Perhaps you are not a boy, but a young god teasing me,
Perhaps you are a dream born from my imagination,
Is it forbidden to love a dream, a ghost, a god ?
I am not the first one, I am not the last one

Singing such a sweet encounter in the deep of the forest...

Athletic Grace....



Unveiling....


I met an elf...



Are you Legolas young brother ?

© Sinal

Light


Light is playing in such a sensitive and sensual way with your body, with its curves and outlines, with  you smooth skin and your graceful pose...

I would love to be the light, since it is allowed to caress you in such a gentle and loving way...

Beauty of Youth: Iconic pics....



Web of Desire


I love...


I love the sound of your voice and the smell of your skin,
The taste of your lips, and the colour of your eyes,

I love the way you smile, I love your smooth face
And I love the light down over your upper lip...

I love your tanned chest and the curves of your shoulders,
I love your arms and your legs, soft and so boyish...

I love the way you smile when I say I love you,
I love how serious you are when you say you love me...

I love the way you fall asleep between my arms,
And I love how I wake up between your arms...

I love to hold your hand while we are walking in the street,
I love how you give me a kiss on my neck while we are in the park...

I love to look at you reading a book, I love the music you want me to listen to,
I love when you are quiet, and I love when we go crazy...

I love you...
I guess I just love you...

Rêve Bleu


"C'était un rêve bleu comme un repli de la nuit,
Un rêve au goût salé et à la tiédeur sucrée,
Comme lorsque des membres entrelacés
Refusent de s'éveiller au lever du jour...

C'était un rêve bleu comme tes lèvres, comme tes mains,
Un rêve de caresses sans fin, à corps perdus
Dans les plages du désir, dans les vagues du plaisir,
Lorsque les yeux se ferment enfin, au seuil du petit matin..."

Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers, 2000.


jeudi 27 octobre 2016

Portrait



Desirable


What makes a boy, a body, a boy's body desirable ?
Is it the same desire for a boy, a girl, a woman, a man ?
What are the triggers of that desire ?
The face ?
The body ?
What is visible ?
What is hidden and left up to the viewer's imagination ?
What does mean desiring a body, a boy I will never meet,
Caress, kiss, or embrace... ?
Could my be desire be just the dream of a caress, of a kiss, of an embrace...
Or just the idea, the concept, the feeling of how they could be... ?

I know this pic is at the same time the question
and the answer...

In a blossoming garden


Daedalus and Icarus


Charles Paul Landon (1799)

Henry Scott Tuke


There are so obvious Arcadian overtones in Henry Scott Tuke's vision of British beaches...
I love the golden light, the golden bodies...

On the Beach


Some summer afternoon should never end,
And there are thoughts and dreams that forever should last...
What is a boy ? Why is a boy desirable ? Why does he make me dream ?
You are at the same time these questions and their obvious answer....

Learning to fly....


Beautiful flowers....


"Garçon doré, garçon aimé,
De si loin je t'ai regardé,
Sur les rivages de sable gris
Où tu passais l'été...

Des douces courbes de ton dos,
Du galbe si garçonnier de tes cuisses bronzées,
De tes lèvres toujours humides et entrouvertes
Je saurais si bien de mémoire dessiner les milles détails...

La vie est belle, même si le temps s'enfuit,
Et qu'une jeunesse ne dure que le temps du printemps,
Mais certaines fleurs resteront éternelles,
Dans le coeur des amants des jolies fleurs..."

Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers (date unknown)

Greek Ephebe


"It was such a hot day... It was the peak of the heatwave...
Boys and girls enjoyed the sun and the sea, the sand and the waves...
Milky bodies had to be protected from sun burns...
But sun rays were caressing your chest, your shoulder in such a sensual way...

And do you remember ? Your towel suddenly fell down and unveiled
What it was supposed to hide... But you did not care....
And nude as a Greek ephebe, you went to the sea
And happy as a young dolphin, you swam through the silver waves..."

Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers (1995 ?)
(English translation by Mark)

The Photographic Art of Wilhelm von Gloeden


Taormina, San Domenico Monastery, end of XIXth c.
albumen photograph

The Photographic Art of Hajo Ortil