The Libertine

A public blog that features a compilation of exceptional artists' works; serendipitously discovered by a secret admirer. The ongoing overtones of the production frequently include evocative imagery, passionate emotions, pure beauty and raw exprience (to name a few themes). Our content is composed of artistic expressions, fashion editorials, promising talents, diverse bodies, freedom for all, love forever and the eternal search for truth in the visceral …………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………… (SUBMISSIONS TO

Month: January, 2010

Beauty Borrowed

I copied this off . It spoke to me. Words are speaking to me today…sorry boys and girls;) just one of those days:

Do you know the most surprising thing about heartache? It doesn’t actually kill you. Like a bullet to the heart, or a head-on car wreck, it should. When someone you’ve promised to cherish forever says, “I never loved you,” it should kill you instantly. You shouldn’t have to wake up day after day after that, trying to understand how in the world you didn’t know.”

Dear Frida….(frida kahlo to marty mcconnell)

leaving is not enough; you must
stay gone. train your heart
like a dog. change the locks
even on the house he’s never
visited. you lucky, lucky girl.
you have an apartment
just your size. a bathtub
full of tea. a heart the size
of Arizona, but not nearly
so arid. don’t wish away
your cracked past, your
crooked toes, your problems
are papier mache puppets
you made or bought because the vendor
at the market was so compelling you just
had to have them. you had to have him.
and you did. and now you pull down
the bridge between your houses,
you make him call before
he visits, you take a lover
for granted, you take
a lover who looks at you
like maybe you are magic. make
the first bottle you consume
in this place a relic. place it
on whatever altar you fashion
with a knife and five cranberries.
don’t lose too much weight.
stupid girls are always trying
to disappear as revenge. and you
are not stupid. you loved a man
with more hands than a parade
of beggars, and here you stand. heart
like a four-poster bed. heart like a canvas.
heart leaking something so strong
they can smell it in the street.

— marty mcconnell


The Un-Loving Of You

I’m letting you go,
I’m giving you back,
Each bit of your self that I’ve kept…
I returned those eye brows,
and a few of your teeth,
I packed them and hummed as I wept…
I shipped off your thighs in a box with some fingers,
the larger ones only, for now…
When you asked for your shoulders
I blinked back through a frown,
But I let you take them,
And some lashes I’d found.
Now, the chuckle was harder,
I was still using that
And without out your soft hair,
I just can’t hang my hat
But I do understand that you need these things back
So I try to be gracious, although it’s an act.
The hard part is coming
And I know I’ll feel lost
with no way to smell,
Or to taste, or to talk…
See, I cherish your lips
still so familiar,
and your eyes that melt chocolate for me…
There’s a crook in your nose
that it’s not yours without,
and I’m starting to feel a bit empty…
At last to my treasures
high up on a shelf…
to your voice and your skin and your hands,
I hoped I could keep these forever,
but your starting to list your demands…
I can’t bear to imagine the woman who gets these,
I break down each time at the thought.
They’ve been mine for so long,
I just couldn’t tell you
how I’ll go on when they’re not…
Almost nothing is left here
You’ve taken it all
so we’ve parted, I get it, I’ll go…
but I wonder if I could compel you
the compassion to leave me a toe…?
By: Kate Van Raden

The Night Was Too Short, And It Tasted Like You

Feeling a bit under the weather lately guys. I have been following all the developments in Haiti since the earthquake and my heart is breaking today. I don’t understand why some just suffer so greatly, for so long, with seemingly no relief. I don’t understand why many people have comfortable and simple lives and never experience deep pain, while others are born starving or with aids into a world with no love and no hope for them…while parents bury their children…while thousands die in hurricanes, in floods, in earthquakes, in bombings, in war, in genocide…alone. I try to fall on the ground and give thanks for all my blessings everyday, but today my blessings feel like heavy burdens. I am usually not highly religious, but today I understand Christs choice in the story of the crucifiction. I can relate to wanting to scoop up all the pain and suffering from all those who don’t deserve it and drape it over my shoulders…break every bone, peel every inch of flesh, I would take it all. Needless to say, no one among us can end all the suffering of the entire world single handedly. But if we each go out into the world with an attitude of love we can change atleast the lives of those we meet. To inspire you to spread the love this weekend, here is another feel good love post. Enjoy

Le Cig

Come on baby…light my fiiiiiiirrrrreeeee…

many images discovered on

Those Eyes…They’re Breakin’ My Heart Kid

I was so thrilled to stumble upon this breath taking beauty shoot. It’s rare that I find beauty work that equally represents the creative vision of editorial work, but in my opinion, this was perfectly executed! It’s just a bonus that the model happens to be the impishly gorgeous Behati Prinsloo. Thanks again NUMERO!!! 

Behati Prinsloo by Liz Collins for Numéro November 2006

This Breath Will Bleed My Soul From Me

Richard Siken “Scheherazade” from his book “Crush”

A Pun Undone

Live fast,

flash in the pan,

snatch your breaths and clutch them close to breast,

every blink is your stolen treasure. ..

Scribble your dreams in your palm,

write them in ink,

read them often,

add till your whole body’s blue…

Make haste while the sun shines,

count each stitch in time,

love unwisely,

for anything worth doing right is worth enjoying…

Allow yourself to be carried away,

be reckless,

exchange your youth for worldly wisdom and know the trade was good,

tomorrow is a new day…

for one more daytumblr_o127u0DBdu1qze65vo1_1280


These tights! O. M. G.

Oh The Places We’ll Go…

On the wings of love

By: Kate Van Raden

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 1,639 other followers