Monthly Archives January 2010

Jan 31, 2010 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments

Implode (South of Houston)

The certainty with which the coffee table was designed,
The selection of the metal.
The precision of the corners.
Its relationship with the light,

Betrayed the individual, for whom it was designed.

The entire space
An ensemble of crimson brick, Murano glass, and natural light,
Bespoke of a man, who was interested in the details.

The composition of a thing.

Ne plus ultra.

This is why the floors were imported from Burma.
And why the shelves were composed of titanium, borrowed from the Ural Mountains in Siberia.

It was also why the bare particles of rouge, melded with ivory, created a malleable pink hue. This was the embrace in which the silk was entangled with its linen counterpart. The bond created by two textiles whose fibers were immersed and interlaced in such a manner, that can only be described as love.

This was the office stationary.

This was the fifth floor loft, located at Prince & Mercer Street.

This was Mulberry Design.

This was the indelible imprint of a man, who wanted to do something.
Who wanted to contribute.
And so he set his attention,
To attention.
Made his priority the aesthetic.
Would not place his name on a thing, if the details did not tell a story.
Because the details were important to Max Mulberry.
Which is why the disappearance of his best friend,

Troubled him so.

Implode. Part II – DK

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Jan 29, 2010 | Post by: Devon Knight 1 Comments


A small kiss
Can become a great love.
An act of kindness
Can save the world.
And a block of marble
Can become an Adonis.
This is the magnificence, inside of you.

Michelangelo’s David, upon entering the Galleria dell’Accademia.
Florence, Italy… a Sunday afternoon (and an extensive queue – DK) …

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Jan 23, 2010 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments


Of all the beauty
Mine eyes have inhaled…
You are,
By far…
The most wondrous.
Amo Venezia.
My mortal self cannot comprehend you.

A view of il Canal Grande, whilst standing on the Ponte di Rialto…
Venice, Italy. Twilight – DK

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Jan 18, 2010 | Post by: Devon Knight 1 Comments


It is raining today in Los Angeles, California.
Sade is singing.
The ocean is near.
The coffee is superb.
Life is splendid.

Somewhere along the Pacific Coast Highway … 12:26 PM

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Jan 18, 2010 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments

Implode (The Birth of Max Mulberry)

When he opened his eyes,
The sun was not upon his face, as it should have been.
The warmth of Apollo’s favor.
The assurance of his love.
The privilege of his whole life
Despite the disappointment in his chest, he had not fallen out of grace.

The arbor canopy obscured the light, its golden rush absorbed by the satinwood’s emerald crown. Beneath the leafy shade lay an enchanted world, brisk with the chatter of rock frogs, blue magpies, and falling water seemingly in a rush.

A descended leaf, brilliant in its prime, but now as listless as he, crinkled beside his ear. A scarab’s efforts caused the blade to crumble further, until it resembled the earth of a recent past.

He blinked. A task that required his full commitment.

And then the rains came.

A torrential downpour of fruit. Star fruit. Courtesy of the temple monkeys nearby, who had been watching him sleep for five days. Despite laughter filled with mischief, they were concerned.

He tried to sit up. But nothing would be that easy again.


He was certain that he could.

He inhaled deeply, but this too, caused him much pain.


He could go back to sleep. This, he thought, would require less effort.

No effort.

The temple monkeys watched, confounded. The star fruit becoming gummy nectar in their hands.


He lifted his head, but wanted to stop.

And yet, a presence deep within his being, would not allow surrender
Would not allow retreat.
And so with great difficulty, he raised his head…

And Benjamin leaned forward.

Suddenly, the chattering frogs, the songful magpies, and even the hurried water abandoning algae covered cliffs, took a moment,

And a wonderful silence engulfed the forest.

The temple monkeys went about their business.

He was weak. His abdominal muscles ached, unaccustomed to laborious events. He sat upright for the first time, his entire person baptized in the dirt of the rainforest.

His eyes surveyed the area, though espresso hues and apple tones were all that could be discerned through hazed vision.

He had a satchel with him. His only certainty.

And indeed, a khaki satchel rested only several meters from where he had succumbed to the forest floor days earlier. He reached for the tote, though his muscles, skeletal tissue, and bodily organs all disagreed with this decision.

Particularly his heart.

“It will take time to be great again,” it seemed to say.

He paused, massaging his ample beard.

This was possible. He could do this.

And so he reached again. This time, the tips of his fingers met the strap. He pulled the satchel closer, securing it to his person.

He sighed. His first accomplishment in five years.

He wanted to smile, but again, in time.

So instead, he would endeavor onto his next accomplishment and stand. And slowly, things were becoming easier for Benjamin, as they had always been, prior to disappointment. He stood entirely upright, lifting the satchel above his head and bringing it to rest across his chest. Bearded, sullied, and broken, he took a moment and inhaled the forest.

The enclosure that had kept him safe.

He took a moment more, before moving on.

Through saturated earth and thick underbrush, Benjamin powered his way through the thickets of greenery and exotic flowers impeding his way. Low hanging vines and determined branches made his first trek in several days, difficult navigation. Thorn-bearing plants assaulted his hands, whilst unseen forest critters snipped at his bare ankles. From his satchel, Benjamin unsheathed a weathered machete and began clearing a path, removing oversized leaves from tree limbs, until an emerald carpet began to form in his wake.

And then he understood the need for secrecy.

Through the clearing, the earth fell into an expansive basin. An ocean of tea leaves swayed in the stimulated wind. The infinite body of rare herbs was surrounded by a majestic mountain range, certain of its sovereignty. Even the sun came to rest upon its lofty shoulders.

Benjamin stood atop the cliff, machete in hand, satchel over shoulder, silhouetted against a magenta sky.

Apollo did love him.

He would be great again.

Implode. Part I – DK

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Jan 14, 2010 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments

… and the streets were paved with gold.

“Mille viae ducunt homines per saecula Romam” – Alain de Lillie (1128-1202 AD)
As well they should. – DK
A street near Roma Termini, emblazoned with the mark of the legion…

Rome, Italy. 10:06 pm

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Jan 13, 2010 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments

For You

They submerged you in jasper.

Bathed you in chrysocolla.

Lathered you in gold.

Until your magnificence was as heavy as the weight of your love.

They professed for you.
Bled for you.
Walked the Earth,

Until the soles of their feet were raw…

In tuo nome.

They burned for you.
Allowed their skin to pop,
As it melted from the calcium of their core.

They suffered for you.
Bore the inquisition
And its insatiable zealots,

For your Majesty…

Your Grace.

And they loved you…

They still do.

Because your love,

Seduces the hearts of men.

A tablet in a recess of Il Duomo… Milan, Italy. April 2006 – DK

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Jan 10, 2010 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments

3 oz.

The first cup should be simple.




An ounce and a half.


Three, if expecting company.


No more.


Transformation should occur within a conical burr.


Tamping should be taken seriously.


And then wait.


Because everything is art.


And should taste precisely so.

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Jan 08, 2010 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments

Happy Birthday, Mr. Mulberry

A celebration of born days, replete with calamari, cocktails, and friends…
Los Angeles, California. 12:14 pm

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Jan 08, 2010 | Post by: Devon Knight No Comments

The Air Within Your Lungs

“So… what did you do?”

He sat before the inquisitor, uncertain.


He thought about his life.

The moments of his past.

Hot air balloon rides, not taken.

What had he done?


He tried to speak, but was unable.

In 5th grade, he almost won a spelling bee. The word was phenomenon. He placed second.

The inquisitor was patient.

When he was seventeen, he fell in love. She was British and he was bashful. She was poised. He was imperfect.

Still, she was fond of him. Despite his flaws.

His thoughts wandered. The milky white glaze of the interior seemed to enclose around him. This increased his anxiety.

When he was twenty-four, he tried to love again.

This time, he was dashing…


He was travelled.

He developed a palate.

He only drank coffee expelled from Peruvian grown beans. These were french-pressed, of course.

He was sophisticated.

He had seen the world and most of its wonders.

When he met her, he assumed this would be a continuation of his life.

His assurance of forever.

Right there… Inside of her.

She was stunning.

Intelligent. Artful.

She had seen the world, too.

She wanted a life with him, but he had become fascinated by the accumulation of things.

She attempted to loosen his grasp, but he would not let go.

She would leave.

And so he decided to forgo love, for financial success.


No words.

The inquisitor’s patience was infinite.

More recently, he forged down the path of excess, full throttle.

But his heart did not follow.

And so he sat before his maker, unable to ascertain what he had accomplished with his life.

“I loved you so much, that I gave you the air within your lungs…”

No words.

“What did you do with my gift?”

He thought a moment longer… Still uncertain.

What will you do?

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    With regard to <em>Implode</em>, certain details, locations, occurences, et al. may not resonate along your cerebral palate if read out of context. For this reason, it is recommended following the episodes in chronological order, as they appear, which requires a bit of time travel.

    The first experience occurs in January 2010 with <a href="">The Birth of Max Mulberry</a>.

    Thank you.

    For allowing me to be apart of you,
    If only for a moment.

    - DK