© 2022 Ean Kotard. All Rights Reserved.
Fertile soil
And now I wake up just to dance, I’m not the muse of sorrows, Instead, I dance atop of grapes, Ideas of the morrow. And…
Expand →Poems
Iman
Harvest of greater cause, Our bodies, soil of souls, Our souls, the crop of cosmos. Head study 0323 – fragment. Ean Kotard. May, 2020.
Expand →Premeditatio malorum
A constant whisper of the could have been, the tamed informant, looking from the past beyond your future, creating universes of options where you’ll not…
Expand →Fulcrum
To think I am the pattern, the constellation, the vantage point in which so many things converge. The anti-chaos, the exception, the complex ordered balance,…
Expand →RBK – sunday dream
This morning I saw you getting married, white dress and all, a mockery again, to a degree less immature but mockery at last. You were…
Expand →Halloween 2021
Today I’ll dress as voice, as sound, the squeal, the never-ending scream and walk around as all those waves that bounced from thickest walls of…
Expand →Ginger
I met her at the small lagoon, not knowing she’s an ocean. I met her at the small lagoon not knowing I’m the forest, and…
Expand →RBK – soothing rant
And at that dawn, you smiled unfinished and dropped my hands under the snow-caked hills. After a carousel of changing faces, my hands, infused by…
Expand →Fun guy
Today is 2053, I’m hungry, sterile, minimalisticI want a juicy piece of meatWith blood and tendons, chewy strings,Not seasoned, seared nor marinated.The art above me…
Expand →Kriss
She’s always gazing from the shadows, configuring with geometric solids, with alchemistic fumes, the dirt and soul. Her dresses, covering her values, stamped like phalerae…
Expand →