Respira - He Breathes

Mi manchi. Amo l'Italia. Divertiti!

Respira..

Scrivi per me

come se la penna velluto che brucia la pelle mia, mi guarisce

Scrivi in me

Con passione profonda, così conoscerò il gusto d'amore sulla tue labbra.

Scrivi attraverso di me

come spargo tua dell'arte dentro nel cielo, con una sola espirazione erotica

 © 2014 Jacob Jakober

© 2014 DNKG Respira

Non parlasse Italiano?

He Breathes...

Write for me

As if the velvet pen, burning my skin, heals me

Write in me

With deep passion, so I will know love by the taste of your lips

Write through me

 As I scatter your art across the heavenly vault,

with one erotic exhale.

© 2014 DNKG Respira - 10/13/14: 441pm
©2015 DNKG -edit

Let creation set you free: Poetry

Silence

Cut down, pushed down, thrown down

a spastic reaction, a commandeering confection of a bully 

Crashing. 

Down.

What is silence.

To be torturted by it. Nay but nay. 

What is silence. 

The gift of tongue forcibly ripped, defiled from the frame, literally silenced. 

What is silence. 

Lover castigating your soul's breath, making it trivial as a reminder of your "place."

What is silence.

But of water squelching on the fires of passion, on the passion of devotion on the devotion of IT.

What is silence. 

A self made prison of barbed-wire and chain linked fence, where the tulips grow outside the unlocked gate.

What is silence.

Is it found in the twisted torment of a childhood bound by scars, lashings, and pleasurably guilted sex scents?

What is silence.

Is it the empty "home" with blood stains strewn across the idyllic curtains 

and 

fallen photos staring into the loathsome Nothingness upon its walls?

What is silence.

Is it the noose around the neck of the body whose burden is too much to bear? 

What is silence.

What is silence?

Is it madness? Is it peace? Is it revolution? A time of contemplation? 

What is silence?

It is tethered by invisible strings that flow from Genius, to fingers, onto the page.

It is the feeling of rage, hate, love, kindness, peace, swelling tearfulness, & desire to be alone - in a single moment?

What is silence?

Is it in the mindful spaces between the pauses and screams? 

Between the sirens, flashing lights, the tireless infant and the paranoid lover incessantly battering?

It is found in the quiet, panted inhalation of the willful submersion.

It is found upon the bitten brim, invisible beside the flesh eliminated
It is found in the shards of the forsaken heart anesthetized through decades.
It is found in her Mind, that despicable self-disdain, to allow such subjugation. 

When did the Uninvited silence, Silence me.

Photo: Ellen Haroutunian

© 2014 Silence - DNKG

Il desiderio nel cuore mio: Tocchi Mi

Il desiderio nel cuore mio: Tocchi Mi

Io farò solo permetti mi tocchi

se tuoi mani sono così pieni d'intenzione,

che ogni pennella delle tuoi palmi sentono

come sei scrivendo un romanzo sopra pelle mia.

The desires of my heart: Touch me

I will only allow you to touch me
if your hands are so full of intention
that every sweep of your palms feels
as though you are writing a novel upon my skin.

©2015 DNKG Tocchi Mi

Series 2 - Lost and Recaptured: Tales of Love Unspoken

Welcome back to the ongoing story between Spanish soldier, Andrés Rojas and French noblewoman, V.M. of the House of Hapsbourg. Here in Series 2, we discover more about our two fictional characters in the historical backdrop of the Franco-Spanish War. Thank you for visiting. Share your thoughts and share our writings on your social media sites. Thank you again.  

Any similarities to individuals living or dead, real or fictitious is purely coincidental.

Lost and Recaptured: Tales of Love Unspoken
Perdido y Recuperado: Cuentos de amor tácito
Perdu et Recouvré: L'histoires d'amour tacite

Series Two: Love's Perilous Obstructions

Serie Dos: Obstrucciones arriesgado del amor

Série Deux: Périlleux Obstructions de L'amour

Mi Reina,

Perdóname, por no mandando este letra más temprano. 

Con esta guerra no tengo mucho tiempo para escribir. 

No tengo el tiempo para estar solo, para poner mis sentimientos en un papel. 

Pero nuca pare pensando de ti. 

No más el recuerdo de tu hermosa sonrisa me mantiene. 

El recuerdo de tu olor tan dulce, no más puedo soñar del las noche que te puedo detener. 

La noche que te puedo dar un beso.

Mi Reina, finalmente mi das tu nombre. 

¿Pero que es un nombre, no mas palabras, no más un título?

A mí un nombre no dice quién eres un nombre nomás dice que te pueden llamar. 

Pero mi amor yo te voy llamar que tú quieres. 

¿Para que tienes el miedo que alguien descubre su nombre, 

o es el miedo que alguien descubre que estas escribiendo con un soldado? 

¿O es que mi Reina ya tiene un Rey?

Mi amor si entiendo que esto puede estar muy peligroso, 

pero no hay nada que me puede mantener de usted.

Espero tu letra con mucho amor,

Andres Rodrigo Rojas

Avis officiel de Sa Majesté royale, Roi Louis XIII, le Roi de France et de Navarre

Monsieur Rojas,

Sur le nom de Son Majesté royale, le Roi Louis XIII, 
vous êtes, désormais, dûment informé que vos lettres à Vivienne Mylene, 
la princesse du sang royale de France, sont une nuisance pour cette maison. 
Vos paroles et vos sensibilités sont une peste à sa nom souveraine. 
Ces expressions fallacieuses de passion sont un venin; 
un venin qui va être remédiera immédiatement. 
Son Majesté, offrez cette opportunité à cesser toute communication avec cette famille royale. 
Ou contenterez dans la connaissance que vous rencontrerez un coup fatal
 et serrerez la main froide de le démon que hante votre cauchemars seulement.

Son Excellence, Cardinale de Richelieu 

2 June 1637

Andrés,

J’ecrit cette lettre dans une chambre privè. 
Je sais pas où je suis. Mon cœur n’a pas reçu le mots à toi.

Je me trouve dans l'hiver.  
Je me sens comme le neige, 
avalant le forêt et comme le silence envahissant les sommets immobiles. 
Tous les pas ont été effacé par le vent du Nord, 
et mon corps sans vie, 
expirant avec chaque baiser de cristallisè. 
Mon compagnons sont les branches et feuilles, 
qui choisissent mourir pour que je peux témoin le lever du soleil un jour de plus. 
Je survis uniquement sur l'espoir que la chaleur de quelqu'un ou quelque chose, 
peut me faire sortir de cette obscurité.

Alors que je ne me souviens pas la couleur de ton uniforme 
ou le cheval tu montes il y a longtemps. 
Je me souviens la forme de tes yeux, 
les courbes de tes lèvres et comment le lumiére dansant est tombé sur ton visage. 
Ce sont les braises qui empêchent ce cœur du gel. 
Ce connaissance que tu es pensent de moi, m'empêcherais de lâcher prise. 
C'est m'espoir qu'un jour,
 tes bras va fondre environnant la glace de mes membres 
comme tu murmureras, «plus jamais».

C’est le temps que j’ai te dit la veritè sur ma vie.
 Je suis une princesse du sang royale de France, 
comme le Cardinal de Richelieu dit en son letter à toi. 
Cependent, je suis niece le plus aimée de Louis, le Pomme de ses yeux. 
Les rumeurs inondent les esprits et les âmes de tout, meme les morts. 
Rumeurs que je me suis donnée à lui sous une nuit sans lune.
Je peux dire uniquement ceci au moment. 

Nous avons un calme garçon d'écurie qui nous avons confiance. 
S'il te plaît, soyez patient entre les communications, parce qu'ils peuvent seront rares. 
Nous ferons tout notre possible pour protégeons sa vie, nos vies et tien.

Je me souviens pourquoi croyant en une cause plus grande que soi-même est important: 
parfois, ce est tout ce qui empêche nos yeux ouverts, 
nos cœurs tristes battant, 
et notre âme pour atteignant la lune. 
Même dans les plus sombres d'hiver, il y a un sentiment d'espoir.

Avec mon amour,

V.M.

À votre Excellence,

S’il vous plait, pardonnez de mon folie.
J’ai été inconscient que j'ayant écrit à la Princesse de France.
J'ai ete aveugle par sa beauté. Ce n'est pas mon intention à fais une pertubation dans la cour.
S’il vous plait, ne blâmez pas la Princesse de mon folie et je demande votre pardon.
Votre Excellence, regardez! Je ne suis pas juste un pauvre soldat Espagnol.
Je suis un capitaine et j’ai mon proper navire dans la flotte Espagnole.
J’offre moi-même, mon navire, et mon equipage comme une penitence à se battre pour votre cause dans cette guerre horrible.
Je suis fatigue d’attendant autour pour mes commandes. Ils ne savent pas faire de prendre action!
Mais Vous, Mon Excellence, connaissez les actions qui devez prises.
Je suis prêt offrir m’alligance à vous.
Je demande seulement votre pardon et pour le opportunité à faire de devenir vos garde du corps personnel 

J’attends patiemment votre réponse,

Capitaine Andrés Rojas

© Harsha Photography

Translations in English

Traducción en Inglés

Traduction en Anglais

My Queen,

Forgive me, for not sending this letter much sooner. 
With this war I hardly have time to write. 
I hardly have time to be alone, to put my thoughts and feeling on to paper.
 However I never stopped thinking of you. 
Just the simple memory of your smile kept me going. 
The memory of your sweet perfume, all I could dream of is the night that I would be able to hold you. 
The night that I would be able to give you a kiss.

My queen, you have finally given me your name.
But what is a name, a group of words, just a title? 
To me a name does not define who you are, a name is just something that people can call you by. 
But my love, I will call you by whatever it is you wish.
 But what is this fear that you have of someone finding out your name, 
or is it the fear of someone finding out you are speaking to a solider? 

Or is it that my queen already has a king in her life?

My love I do understand that this can be very dangerous, 
however this is nothing in this world that can keep me away from you!

I await your letter with much love, 

Andres Rodrigo Rojas

Official Notice sent by His Royal Majesty, King Louis XIII, King of France and Navarre

Mr. Rojas

On behalf of His Royal Majesty, King Louis XIII,

you are now duly informed that your letters to Vivienne Mylene,

the Royal Princess of France, are a nuisance to the house.

Your words are sensitivities are a plague to His Sovereign name. 

These false expressions of love are poison; a venom that will be remedied immediately.

His Majesty, offers this opportunity to cease all communication with the royal family. 

Or be content in the knowledge that you will encounter a fatal blow

and will shale the cold hand of the demon that haunts your nightmares only.

His Excellency, the Cardinal of Richelieu

June 2 1637

Andres,

I am writing this letter from a private room. 

I do not know where I am and my heart has not received your words.

I find myself in Winter. 

I feel as the snow, swallowing the forest and as the silence invading the still summit. 

All the footprints have been erased by the North Wind

 and my body, without life, expires with every crystalized kiss. 

My companions are the branches and the leaves, 

which choose to die, so that I can witness the sunrise of the day once more. 

I survive only on the hope that the warmth of someone or something, can get me out of this Darkness.

While I do not remember the color of your uniform or the horse you rode long ago,

 I remember the shape of your eyes, the curves of your lips, and how the dancing light fell upon your face. 

These are the embers the keep my heart from freezing.  

The knowledge that you are thinking of me, prevents me from letting go. 

This is my hope, that one day, your arms will melt the ice surrounding my limbs 

as you whisper, “Never again.”

It is time that I told the truth about my life.

 I am a Princess of France, as Cardinal Richelieu said in his letter to you. 

However, I am the most beloved niece of Louis, the apple of his eye. 

Because he loves me, the country speaks in whispers. 

Rumors flood the minds and spirits of all, even the dead. 

Rumors that I have given myself to him under a moonless night.

I can say only this much at the moment.

We have a calm stable boy that we trust. 

Please, be patient between communications because they may be rare. 

We will do everything we can to protect his life, our lives, and yours.

I remember why believing in a cause greater than oneself is important: 

sometimes, it ‘s all that keeps our eyes open, 

our sad hearts beating,

 and our soul reaching for the moon. 

Even in the darkest Winter, 

there is a sense of hope.

With my love,

V.M.

To your Excellence,

Please forgive my foolishness. 

I was unaware that I had written to a Princess of France.

I was blinded by her beauty. It is not my intention to create a disturbance in the court. 

Please, do not blame the Princess for my foolishness and I beg your forgiveness.

Your Excellency, look. I am not just a poor Spanish soldier. 

I am a capitan and have my own proper ship in the Spanish fleet.

I offer myself, my ship, and my crew as a penance to fight for your cause in this horrible war.

I am tired of waiting around for my orders. They do not know how to take action. 

But you, My Excellency, know the actions that must be taken.

I am ready to offer my allegiance to you. 

I ask only for you forgiveness and for the opportunity to become your personal bodyguard.

I wait patiently for your response.

Capitan Andrés Rojas

2014 © DNKG and ARR. Lost and Recaptured: Tales of Love Unspoken -  Series Two: Love's Perilous Obstructions