samedi 18 mars 2017

Soap...


Sometimes, it is time to close your eyes...
Sometimes, it is time just to listen to your feelings...
Sometimes, it is just time to listen to the music of your body...
Sometimes, it is just time to forget anything else...
Sometimes, you just need intimacy, privacy...

Soap in the eyes is so helpful...

Never stop dreaming....


Dreams are gates allowing us to access another world...
Dreams are a fine tuning of the human soul...
Without dreams, there would be no desire, no hopes, no futures...

The way I love, who I love are parts of my most intimate dreams...
But I feel these deams are real, because they are part of my life, of who I am...

Perhaps sometimes in the (near ?) future, dreams will be forbidden and illegal...
Because, there is no control upon our dreams at least, not yet...
So better to make dreams illegal...

Enjoy your dreams...
Enjoy the one you are dreaming about...

Enjoy, while it is still possible....

Youth and flood


What is in common, between boys and water, between youth and river, between young male beauty and a flood of white foam ?

Tempus fugit...

The water caressing this boy's body will never be the same again...

And this boy will be another one tomorrow,

And me, who is looking at this pic, is so ephemeral too...

Carpe diem...

Why ?


Why late teen boys are so important in art and literature, in painting and poetry, in sculpture and in novels ?

What is so special with them ?

Golden Years


If I was Scopas or Praxiteles, Raphael or Michelangelo, Caravaggio or Wilhelm von Gloeden,
You would be my favorite model, no doubt about it...

For now, I can just sing how cute and gorgeous you are, with just the basic words of a human language...

Don't ask, don't tell...


Sunrise ? Or sunset ?


"Garçon de l'aube, garçon du crépuscule,
Je te vois à l'orée de mes nuits, de mes matins,
Dans la lumière dorée d'un rêve naissant, finissant,
Dans la tendre tiédeur d'un lit partagé
Entre le corps d'un amant et celui de son aimé"

Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers, 2010.

samedi 11 mars 2017

Is it worth running ?


Arcadia


"Je ne sais d'où je viens, Arcadie ou Uranus,
Mais je sais que je vis en étranger là où je suis...

Je ne sais qui je suis, une ombre, un paria, un non-sens,
Mais je sais qui tu es, et je suis à travers toi...

Je ne sais où je suis, dans un rêve, dans un mirage,
Mais je sais où tu es, devant moi, sous mes yeux...

Je ne sais comment dire, ni à qui le dire,
Mais toi seul, sans doute, peut me l'entendre dire...

Je ne sais si je vis encore, ou si je suis déjà mort,
Mais je sais que mes désirs survivront à mon sort...

Je ne sais si je suis seul, ou si nous sommes légion,
Ou plutôt si, je sais, j'appartiens à une tradition..."


Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers, 2011.

Just playing wild and crazy...


But we love them for that, don't we ?

A boy in the sandhills


It was a sunny day,
And we were alone at the beach...

It was a happy day,
Because some encounters are unexpected...

It was a lovely story...
Was it its beginning ? Or the end already ?

A dream... Just a dream...



I wonder what is your name...
How old you are...
Where you are from... ?

I wonder what you like, what you dislike,
What you think about, what you dream about...?

I wonder if you are happy, I wonder how is your life ?

Summer Memories


vendredi 10 mars 2017

Dreams


Sometimes, a dream cannot be expressed through human words...
Silence is the answer...
Or just a gaze...

Apollo in the bathroom


"L'eau chaude dilue le savon en de blancs sillons
Qui tendrement se répandent sur ton torse, entre tes tétons,
De tes cheveux à tes cuisses, de ton nez à tes lèvres,
De ton menton à ton ventre...

Ah cette eau chaude qui te caresse dans l'intimité des matins lumineux
Où tu t'éveilles doucement à la vie en t'étirant dans la vapeur du bain...
Temps en suspension, où une âme réinvente son corps,
Dans la sensualité d'une étreinte moite et tiède..."

Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers, 2001.

A visual metaphor....


There is such an energy, such a power, such a potential flow in a boy's body...

Porn is not the only way to depict it...

Number 2


Forbidden caresses


The sun should not be allowed to caress in such a sensual, indecent way, a boy's body...
Have you seem the way the sun caresses his chest, his torso, his head ?
It is just so obscene, distasteful, disgusting and pervert...

Boys should be protected against the sun's obscene caresses...
Actually, boys should be forbidden to undress in open air and to display their bare torso...


Fun


I miss those years of fun, playfulness, crazyness, innocence...
I miss those years of friendship, bad jokes and silly games...
I miss those years when we played with water and sunlight...

I miss the teen boy I was....

Eyes, lips


A boy's eyes are like a book to read, a screen in a movie theater... They tell a story...

A boy's lips are like a piano keyboard... Kissing them is a fine tuning of the soul...


Why is it so difficult... ?


Why is it so difficult to say who I am, how I feel, what I mean ?
Why is it so difficult to be who I am, to live the life I am dreaming about ?
Is it too late already ?
It is the end ?
Everything was so fast...
I was not aware it was so fast...
But my time is over...

I am so sorry...

dimanche 5 mars 2017

Vintage dream


Morning


"J'aime le matin me réveiller dans tes bras
Sentir la chaleur de ton corps, la douceur de tes mains...

J'aime ta première caresse, ton premier baiser, tes premiers mots...
Et la douce senteur de ton corps adolescent s'éveiller contre moi...

J'aime ces instants instables, entre le rêve et l'éveil,
Où j'hésite à ouvrir les yeux, de peur de ne pas te voir dans mon lit..."

Eraste de Saint-Amant, Poèmes garçonniers, 2010.

Light


Close your eyes !

Close your eyes
And dream...
Yes, imagine...
Make a wish...
Make a dream...

Open your eyes,
Your dream is real, 
Here you are
Here I am....

Focus


What is the focus of this pic ?
Your eye ?
Your lips ?
Your nipple ?

vendredi 3 mars 2017

Bain de Jouvence


Flower


Where is the flower ?
Who is the flower ?
What is a flower ?

Your face ?

A rose ?

Your face, definitely....

Hug


Human face


In a human face, boy or girl, woman or man,
What matters for me, beyond this face beauty,
Is what this face mirrors...

A human face is like a sky...
There are clouds, there is also a light.... 

By the way...


By the way...

What is a blog ?

How what I am trying to express could matter for you ?

Do you understand what I mean ?

Or are you a one time visitor who never returns... ?

Or do you enjoy my pics only, and you don't read my texts... ?

Who knows... ?

I don't know....

What should I read first ?


What should I read first ?

Your eyes ?

Your lips ?

A boy's face is a book to read...

A lover is a reader...

Icarus


I don't know why...
Today I feel the Greek myth of Icarus is about the love of beauty...
Getting too close to beauty can burn your wings...
Absolute beauty can make you fall...
It can make you die...