Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

•November 28, 2022 • 1 Comment

“Lament for the wild”; Mixed Media collage / November 2022

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

Your mother tells you to get inside,

but you are

ears against the clouds


for butterflies.

10 years.

The teacher tells you

to stop starring out the window;

algebra is an ancient tongue

that still cannot hack into the

will o’ wisp.

20 years.

The living room ghost tells you

to get back in

as the snow

settles on light

and you are

blowing smoke signals

to the dark blue of the sky

searching for . . .

*inspired by, what is in my own humble opinion, the stupidest job interview question ever.

Artwork in “Floriography” magazine

•November 4, 2022 • 6 Comments

My artwork, “Summer noon” was recently published in Floriography magazine, Issue 1

To purchase the magazine, please click on the beautiful cover below. The whole issue is beautifully woven with artworks and words.

Suburban Witchcraft Magazine : Issue 3

•October 20, 2022 • Leave a Comment

Issue 3 of Suburban Witchcraft Magazine; read and enjoy!

Suburban Witchcraft Magazine

Hello, everyone!

Please enjoy Suburban Witchcraft Magazine : Issue 3!

To read the magazine, click on the cover or the direct link below.

Suburban Witchcraft Magazine Issue 3

Issue 3 is our largest, deepest issue yet and it is woven by contributors and their creations from all over the world. Enjoy the stories, the artworks, the photographs, words and soulful snippets.

We want to thank the contributors for allowing us to showcase their work and for making Issue 3 an autumnal delight to work on.

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Issue 3: Cover Reveal

•October 10, 2022 • Leave a Comment

Issue 3 of Suburban Witchcraft Magazine: Cover Reveal

Suburban Witchcraft Magazine

Hello, everyone! Please enjoy the Issue 3 Cover Reveal

Issue 3 Cover

Issue 3 will soon be available for enjoying!

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•September 20, 2022 • 13 Comments


Mixed Media / September 2022

One of my newest works, sharing it because I like it, even though it was pointed out to me by first onlookers in the household that the work is dark and creepy. I am interested to hear other thoughts. I can agree in some ways, but I believe that we should sometimes, as creators, not stray purposefully from dark and eerie work.

Divine Tragedy

•September 12, 2022 • 39 Comments
by Gustave Doré, found HERE

*original, in Serbian, will be down below

*shared with dVerse Open Link Night

Divine Tragedy

Like angels of stone, we watch the Sun;
through our fingers, they curl,
those moments when
somebody’s hurts you,
does not matter who,
and now he cannot take a handful
from the bright stream;
drinks instead from your cheeks,
his mouth full and
while he licks a drop
off his fingers
says to you:
“Forgive me, for I had no choice!”
and then, he becomes, an icon,
a white wall peeling –
some Average Joes,
around him people,
flowers, clouds and ceilings – thirsting.
And he, while the grays are scratching,
thunders hatching, glowing slightly,
runs at full speed
tongue – to the rain.

We watch,
it’s pouring from our eyes.

You are eyeing the French candy
through the display pane,
the crickets are seasonal workers,
with wicker violins – in wallets.

Fallen angels standing in a full line,
chattering about weather,
donating, in front the church door.
To you, dad, a piece of land
without blood.
To you, lord,
the winning docket from the bookies.
To you, snake – teeth;
And forgive us our sins,
And our loves and our biting,
and that among the gifts of these
there is all but heart.

That we gifteh under whitest clouds
as we do under those professing rain,
so it is not nothing that remains.

He would eat the sea for lunch.
He doesn’t have breakfast – come mornings
his belly is full of dreams,
his eyes full of the Sun.

For snack –
a piece of highway,
for dinner – un-returning
sprinkled on the edges with wandering men:
a bomb in his chest,
burning in his mouth,
on his wrist a ticking watch.

one glass
full of water
to the brim.

And he questions should he
let his throat embrace it
or should he in the
ragging flames of remote heavens
that swallow the cities,
and ships, and forests, homes and sheds –
place it.

On the surface,
one ray is not drowning,
but swimming.

The sheets are straightened, the breeze is blowing,
the dream was shaken from the window pane,
nearby from a blooming bush
a flute, through the blue, bursts
of bottlnecked lucifer:
a golden field cauldrons on his tongue
and I, like a doe, listen to his shrill
and I drink and drink
against my will.


Божанска Трагедија

Као анђели од камена, гледамо ка сунцу;
кроз прсте нам пролете
они моменти,
када те неко повреди,
није битно ко,
и не може да попије
из шаке са сјајнога извора;
уместо тога пије са твојих образа и пуна му уста,
и док лиже кап са прста,
он ти изусти:
“Нисам имао избора!”
па постаје, као икона,
бели зид који се љушти;
неки тамо Авераге Јое,
око њега људи ,
цвеће, облачи и плафон – липсали :
а он док сивило гребуцка ,
кроји громове, светлуцка ,
креће пуним трком
језиком – ка киши.

из очију нам пљушти.

Гледаш у мињоне кроз стакло витрине,
сви цврчци раде као сезонски радници ,
са виолинама од прућа . у новчаницима .

Пали анђели у пуном реду,
чаврљају о времену,
донирају, испред цркве.
Теби, тата,
комад земље без крви;
Теби, господе,
победнички листић из кладионице;
Теби, змијо – зуби;
И опростите нам грехе наше,
и кога волим и кога кључкам ,
што међ даровима овим
свега има осим срца;

И што давасмо тако и под облацима белим и под кишним,
тако да нам не остане баш ништа .

За ручак би појео море.
Не доручкује – изјутра
стомак му је пун снова,
а очи сунца.

За ужину – комад
за вечеру – невраћање
посуто по рубовима човеком који лута:
у грудима му бомба,
у устима гори,
на зглобу сат који кућа.

часу једну до ивица пуну воде.

И пита се дал у грло ил на пламен бесни што у забаченим кутчима свода гута градове и бродове,
шуме, домове и супе;

да је смести.

На површини,
један зрак се не дави,
већ плива.

Поравнани су чаршави, поветарац дува
отрешен је сан са прозорског окна
у близини, из прочвалог грмља
кроз плаветнило распрела се фрула
луцифера уског грла
у гротлу му гори златно поље
и ја, као срна, слушам како поје
и ја пијем, пијем,
против своје воље

Done Days

•September 6, 2022 • 10 Comments

Done Days

Sour eclipse drips down the aerials –
the wind minces up some holy words;
sticks them to a calendar, pinches
the sweet misery, like keg powder over lily of the valley,
seasons sleeping endings unraveled into erythrean sins,
measured, spoken about, called to memory –
blue shame in the golden garden,
the antelope’s tongue on the surface of the water,
birds of a feather, shrieking – unapologetic,
invoke it and call it
a bedroom, call it a church,
the stones rustle in the seed of sanctuary:
come cold; do lonely –
every winter will soon root wet,
(you too)
in the yawn of light
come bold, come sorry – all
eternity’s ferocious prisoners
wandering the path of night,
(will count less and less)
blankets of bloom eating the dusk warm
(dots on the sky)
by the dark cover
of eden –
all the meadows
and accounted
of forget-me-nots

*showed first in Suburban Witchcraft Magazine, Issue 2

“Winter’s Dream” in Verum lit press magazine

•August 28, 2022 • 15 Comments
Verum lit press I

MY artwork, “Winter’s Dream” is in Issue 1 of Verum lit press magazine. Please go and give the whole issue a glance and a read, you won’t regret it.

Writing aesthetic artwork from a lit mag colour prompt

•August 21, 2022 • 7 Comments

Recently, on Twitter, engaging with literature magazines, londemere lit was hosting a prompt that I wrote to. As part of the prompt, we were invited to post our writing aesthetic + drink at caffe + the last line of a love letter we would write, and in return we would get a 5 colour palette. Here is how it looked


I knew right away that if I get a reply, I am going to use the colours graciously suggested as inspiration for my next artwork and here is the result :

The Artwork

This is a mixed media collage piece that arose from the colours we were given, which you can see down below:

Colour palette used

Do visit the magazine and show londemere lit some love; submit some of your creations to them (SUBS open on August 21st!!!), enjoy the aesthetic and get inspired.

Screaming bluebirds

•August 18, 2022 • Leave a Comment
Screaming Bluebirds

“Screaming bluebirds”

Mixed media / August 2022

As with all of my creations – I appreciate your thoughts.

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