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Showing posts with label Neil Krug. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Neil Krug. Show all posts

Saturday, 6 August 2011

This boy lives in a house built of matches and sleeps in a single matchbox

Neil Krugs Collaboration with supermodel Joni Harbeck Alexander for upcoming PULP ART BOOKS








.

"Neil Krug’s stylized photos of his girlfriend [now wife], the model Joni Harbeck, were taken with
Polaroid film years past its sell-by date. They have the kind of grainy, sun-scorched feel of a Sergio Leone spaghetti western.
And ever since the couple began posting the photos on Flickr early this year,
they’ve drawn a blaze of attention.” - The New York Times.

Tuesday, 2 August 2011

Out of my mind, there's no love in there I move on, move on



I don't know whether to laugh or cry
And i don't know whether to live or die
I kept my love for her locked deep inside
It cuts like a knife
She's out of my life
Out of my life, out of my hair
Out of my mind, there's no love in there
I move on, move on
Dear god, i wasn't breast fed
And most of my conversations with men seem to revolve around music
I'm no musician but the pain has been instrumental
My sense finally tune the instruments of
Of being lonely, of being lost, of being loved, of being human
Man i could use a metaphor but i can't get beyond this shit
I could use someone to talk to
But most of my conversations with men seem to revolve around music
I am a poet who composes what the world proses
And proses what the world composes
I am a poet who composes what the world proses
And proses what the world composes
Damned indescion and cursed pride
I kept my love for her locked deep inside
And i don't know what to do
To get it through to you
Get out of my life tonight
Get out of my life
Out of my life, out of my hair
Out of my mind, 'cause no lovin' fair
I move on, move on
She had nothing but time on her hands
Silver rings, turquoise stones and purple nails
I rub my thumb across her palm
A featherbed where slept a psalm
Yay though i walked, i used to fly, and now we dance
I watch my toenails blacken and walk a deadened trance
'til she woke me with the knife edge of her glance
I have the scars to prove the clock strikes with her hands
And i don't know what to do
To get it through to you
And i don't know what to do
To get it through
Out of my life, out of my hair
Out of my mind, 'cause no lovin' fair
I move on, move on, i move on

Poetry by Saul Williams, photography by Neil Krug