GALLERY OF ART, SHORT STORIES & POEMS
Schnauzer (2007)
Graphite on paper.
By Troy Jezeski (http://TJJEZESKI.imagekind.com)
Brett Favre (2007)
Graphite on paper.
By Troy Jezeski (http://TJJEZESKI.imagekind.com)
"Sanguine Haven" (2006) - Troy Jezeski
Small blonde hairs reach out begging for attention. Their presence only noticeable due to the contrast of them against your tanned, freckled shoulders.
My fingertips slowly approach. I try to move in metrics invisible to the naked eye. A goal of allowing only the heat from my fingers to surround and comfort your beckoning flesh. The perfect goal, touch without touch.
However unable to resist temptation, my fingers meet your skin. The heat between us melds two into one. I feel your skin melt in between the ridges of my fingerprints. I lose track of where I end and you begin.
I feel the waves of body heat radiate along my hand, enticing the rest of my body to give in and also lose its singularity. The shock waves roll from your epicenter. A safe zone. A place I know I need to reach in order to weather the onslaught of emotion rolling my way.
The epicenter. It is a place I know well, yet I have still lost my way. For this sanctuary lies in your heart. The reverberating thump sounds so close, but I know that I have a long way to go still. Yes, a long way to go before I am home again.
"Reckoning" (2005) - Troy Jezeski
Becky jutted her finger through the air. “Why did you do it? Why?”
Two brown eyes stared back. A sheet of despair rolled across them. Nothing was said in return, yet his face spoke volumes.
Becky continued to lambaste her companion. “I just don’t understand you. You destroyed something sacred to me. I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.” She paused shortly as if expecting a certain response, when none was given she put her hands to her hips and stormed off. A loud sigh trailed behind her. A verbal exclamation mark.
Jake sat solemnly on the couch, his head under the duress of gravity. Locks of black hair wavered before his eyes. He pondered his actions and remorse filled him, yet it was no comfort. The damage was already done. He could not go back and change things no matter how much he wanted to. Memories of cuddling up with Becky just this morning flashed in his mind. Happier moments that now seemed like a distant past. Was it the loneliness of being home alone day after day? Becky’s career left little time for him. A brief morning encounter coupled with a present, but mentally unavailable Becky in the evening. Sure, they slumbered together every night, but unconscious sleep leaves little to satisfy the cognizant of the mind. Loneliness ruled Jake’s days. His mind wandered, he longed for attention; the playful days when he and Becky were both much younger. Days when life was still lived to the fullest.
Loud footsteps echoed out of the hallway and into the living room. Jake lifted his head shyly and gazed into Becky’s infuriated eyes. Her gait slowed and her pulse reduced. Reason coated the anger that had consumed her only seconds before. “I can’t go on like this. We have been together too long for me to be angry any longer. Things happen.” Becky comforted Jake. Her tone alleviated Jake’s despondent mood. “But, promise me you won’t do this again?”
Becky’s hand pulled from behind her back to reveal a tattered stiletto heel. “I loved these heels!” Her other hand stroked Jake’s sheen black fur. His tail wagged furiously. The excitement of forgiveness elevated his body temperature forcing a symphonic pant. An action that almost made it appeared as if he was smiling.
“What am I going to do with you, boy?” Becky exclaimed while smiling at Jake. A small chuckle left her mouth as she looked back down at the destroyed shoe in her hand, riddled with canine teeth marks.
"Behold" (1995) - Troy Jezeski
Behold! Love in its grandeur stands before me. Or is this Love, for why does the angelical white-clad innocent fall to her knees in sorrow? Liquid emotion traces the anguish on her face. I know not what grieves this creature.
Behold! Pain in its grandeur stands before me, his shackles securely fastened to the innocent one. What is his purpose? What is the reason for the existence of this famine stricken creature preying on the good?
Behold! I rub my eyes, for Love is not Pain's captive, but rather Pain, clad in white, kneels at his master's hand; Love. Why must Love require this co-existence? Are they two or one in the same?
Behold! I rub my eyes, for Love in its grandeur stands before me--reaper in hand, yet Pain has become an apparition, a vapor amongst Love's grim shadow; a reminder of what is to come.
Behold! Love in its grandeur stand before me...why?