http://search.deviantart.com/?q=by:nubianlover&section=today deviantART RSS for by:nubianlover en-us Copyright 2009, deviantART.com Fri, 04 Dec 2009 19:29:47 PST deviantART.com http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://s.deviantart.com/minish/widgets/apple-touch-icon-precomposed.png http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/3346389/ http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/3346389/ Sun, 12 Sep 2004 13:55:22 PDT


The hailstorm is back brothers and sisters and its time to listen to my words…



so kick back, slip off your shoes, unwind and relax, time is on our side after all…



I really am back, this isn't just a fantasy you've made up to get you through those bitter nights without good poetry, no, no…

This, my friends…





this is real


p.s. sorry i forgot to tell you i'm now 21 ]]> ~nubianlover http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/3059776/ http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/3059776/ Fri, 06 Aug 2004 17:56:22 PDT
i've been off and on but not for too long ]]> ~nubianlover http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2826488/ http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2826488/ Wed, 07 Jul 2004 15:14:38 PDT

~Aladdin-Sane (because he wrote this) ~ Hostile Takeover

this guy is cool...

~betweensmiles (because he wrote this) ~ bastards and gangbangs (and this) ~ Desire-able


GO SEE ALL THESE GREAT POEMS, NOW ! ! ! !



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Member of



]]> ~nubianlover http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2799337/ http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2799337/ Sun, 04 Jul 2004 01:55:04 PDT

~Aladdin-Sane ~ Hostile Takeover


Full of wit and sodden with a more obvious humour, this is a poem that should be published in the Financial Times and NOW!!!!



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Member of



]]> ~nubianlover http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2777495/ http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2777495/ Thu, 01 Jul 2004 05:52:19 PDT
just a little longer

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Member of



]]> ~nubianlover http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2681017/ http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2681017/ Thu, 17 Jun 2004 09:00:01 PDT
The goal of the group is to provide a welcomming place to promote and support black art. Various types of art are encouraged for submission. (poetry, paintings, photography, etc...)

So go check them out

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Member of





]]> ~nubianlover http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2671990/ http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2671990/ Wed, 16 Jun 2004 04:59:43 PDT
this is just a round-up of the groups i have joined

and this will be added to the bottom of every journal entry i make

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Member of





]]> ~nubianlover http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2665725/ http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2665725/ Tue, 15 Jun 2004 10:36:53 PDT
---

The stone.
The stone in the air, which I followed.
Your eye, as blind as the stone.

We were
hands,
we baled the darkness empty, we found
the word that ascended summer:
flower.

Flower - a blind man's word.
Your eye and mine:
they see
to water.

Growth.
Heart wall upon heart wall
adds petals to it.

One more word like this word, and the hammers
will swing over open ground. ]]> ~nubianlover http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2648064/ http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2648064/ Sun, 13 Jun 2004 02:55:53 PDT Federico Garcia Lorca - Ode to Salvador Dali


A rose in the high garden you desire.
A wheel in the pure syntax of steel.
The mountain stripped bare of Impressionist fog,
The grays watching over the last balustrades.

The modern painters in their white ateliers
clip the square root's sterilized flower.
In the waters of the Seine a marble iceberg
chills the windows and scatters the ivy.

Man treads firmly on the cobbled streets.
Crystals hide from the magic of reflections.
The Government has closed the perfume stores.
The machine perpetuates its binary beat.

An absence of forests and screens and brows
roams across the roofs of the old houses.
The air polishes its prism on the sea
and the horizon rises like a great aqueduct.

Soldiers who know no wine and no penumbra
behead the sirens on the seas of lead.
Night, black statue of prudence, holds
the moon's round mirror in her hand.

A desire for forms and limits overwhelms us.
Here comes the man who sees with a yellow ruler.
Venus is a white still life
and the butterfly collectors run away.


*

Cadaqués, at the fulcrum of water and hill,
lifts flights of stairs and hides seashells.
Wooden flutes pacify the air.
An ancient woodland god gives the children fruit.

Her fishermen sleep dreamless on the sand.
On the high sea a rose is their compass.
The horizon, virgin of wounded handkerchiefs,
links the great crystals of fish and moon.

A hard diadem of white brigantines
encircles bitter foreheads and hair of sand.
The sirens convince, but they don't beguile,
and they come if we show a glass of fresh water.


*

Oh Salvador Dali, of the olive-colored voice!
I do not praise your halting adolescent brush
or your pigments that flirt with the pigment of your times,
but I laud your longing for eternity with limits.

Sanitary soul, you live upon new marble.
You run from the dark jungle of improbable forms.
Your fancy reaches only as far as your hands,
and you enjoy the sonnet of the sea in your window.

The world is dull penumbra and disorder
in the foreground where man is found.
But now the stars, concealing landscapes,
reveal the perfect schema of their courses.

The current of time pools and gains order
in the numbered forms of century after century.
And conquered Death takes refuge trembling
in the tight circle of the present instant.

When you take up your palette, a bullet hole in its wing,
you call on the light that brings the olive tree to life.
The broad light of Minerva, builder of scaffolds,
where there is no room for dream or its hazy flower.

You call on the old light that stays on the brow,
not descending to the mouth or the heart of man.
A light feared by the loving vines of Bacchus
and the chaotic force of curving water.

You do well when you post warning flags
along the dark limit that shines in the night.
As a painter, you refuse to have your forms softened
by the shifting cotton of an unexpected cloud.

The fish in the fishbowl and the bird in the cage.
You refuse to invent them in the sea or the air.
You stylize or copy once you have seen
their small, agile bodies with your honest eyes.

You love a matter definite and exact,
where the toadstool cannot pitch its camp.
You love the architecture that builds on the absent
and admit the flag simply as a joke.

The steel compass tells its short, elastic verse.
Unknown clouds rise to deny the sphere exists.
The straight line tells of its upward struggle
and the learned crystals sing their geometries.


*

But also the rose of the garden where you live.
Always the rose, always, our north and south!
Calm and ingathered like an eyeless statue,
not knowing the buried struggle it provokes.

Pure rose, clean of artifice and rough sketches,
opening for us the slender wings of the smile.
(Pinned butterfly that ponders its flight.)
Rose of balance, with no self-inflicted pains.
Always the rose!


*

Oh Salvador Dali, of the olive-colored voice!
I speak of what your person and your paintings tell me.
I do not praise your halting adolescent brush,
but I sing the steady aim of your arrows.

I sing your fair struggle of Catalan lights,
your love of what might be made clear.
... ]]> ~nubianlover http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2621731/ http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2621731/ Wed, 09 Jun 2004 14:35:27 PDT
.....

full name - Brendan Hale

nicknames - smurf ( ~amyhittheatmosphere )

family - mother (drunk) father (dead)

hair - black

eyes - brown

height - 6'0


[ basic info ]


brendan was created - in april 12th 1984 - in a bed

talent - writing (i hope that is one anyway)

uses - a toothbrush and a pen

influences - everything


[ interesting ]


dreams - sexual, they are all sexual - sometime sexual memories

spirituality - fleating

memories - falling, red wellies on black legs, white shirt, emerald ring down a grid, girls

most embarrassing - girls

virginity - 13 years

grew up - when i first had sex

car - sky blue Fiesta

turn offs - a twitch or padded bras

on cutting his dreads - i didn't want to be known as 'that guy with dreads'

fun - writing, reading, Big Brother, music - sometimes work out

food - semi-vegetarian - only when i'm thinking about it - i'm a bad boy

pets - none, but i want a Black Labrador doggy

terrified of - women

could imagine - a career in writing, like a freelance writer or working in the music industry, or something like that. i think that'd be very gratifying- artistically gratifying.

can't miss - Big Brother - cuz i'm that sad, hooked on it for no reason!?! GO VICTOR

enjoys - writing and reading

colour - my favorite has to be black, but i like red too - i wish my car was red

wish you were here - tim - he died in 1999 car crash


[ loves ]


single for the moment perhaps more later


[ past loves ]


Constance Teasley (high school girl who cheated on me)

Rebecca Hilliard (high school girl who i cheated on - for no understandable reason)

Luz Green (high school girl i was friends with that led to more)

Hattie Granado (the girl i truely loved)

Amy Deans (the rebound girl)

Jilly (the cute blonde that only wanted to look brave by asking me out)

and lastly the woman i fell for, but left me for her husband - which just sounds painfully funny now


[ about love ]


will marry - the girl I find who wants to talk about poetry in a bar is the woman I want to marry

childhood - painful and at times comical

..... ]]> ~nubianlover http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2566307/ http://nubianlover.deviantart.com/journal/2566307/ Wed, 02 Jun 2004 13:51:10 PDT

welcome to my userpage


my name is Brendan Hale i'm 20 years old and have been writing for about 6 years



I have been browsing here as a guest for a while

and inspired by ~silenceinnumbers - another black poet

i have decided to make my own page on this wonderful site




Lastly I hope you will enjoy my words

as they are my soul ]]> ~nubianlover