Isis

[Robert Crisman]

Isis the Goddess, favorite of slaves and all the outcast, now stood over Bosch as he writhed in the straw in the dungeon in Memphis in chains.

Bosch asked for water, she nodded, and no sooner done than water appeared in a pail and he drank.

Isis, a lithe apparition, ivory burnished and black depthless eyes, in diaphanous gown, her tiara light taken from Deneb; her lips were the sweetness of fruit in the shade by a river so ancient it flows down to Eden, where sirens and dolphins cavort in the moonlight and Earth is a whisper of Paradise bled to its essence.

Bosch confessed his misdeeds as he lay in the straw, though Isis appeared not to hear; what were the sins of an artist inflicted with eyes that had gazed upon Hell, who had eaten the Devil's excretions and choked up the sorrows of women whose souls embrace murder?

Bosch had taken those souls as his own, let go their tears, sang their rage and laughed their raw laughter, and left the Devil a bone in his throat...

Isis unchained him, made Ramses lie upon straw in his place, and together they left the world of the Fathers, to raft down the river toward Eden.

[Jamie Hogan]

How are you this prolific? It's like your muse takes viagra.

[Michael Brown]

Read through the last few posts to try and get a foothold in this fever dream and feel as if I'd walked on coals. Have looked at Earthly Delights various times throughout the years, and until now haven't given much thought to the man behind the garish images. I should have suspected that it would be you who would make me stop and consider the artist, something I've often done, but inexplicably never before with him. You are an original, sir.

[Gita]

Oh man, I love the idea that Isis swapped out Bosch for Ramses and hit the road. Wonderful.

[Angela]

I have never read a literary reference to Deneb in my life.  How perfect.

[Paul de Denus]

I love the way you paint your visuals-'her lips were the sweetness of fruit in the shade by a river so ancient it flows down to Eden, where sirens and dolphins cavort in the moonlight and Earth is a whisper of Paradise bled to its essence' and 'choked up the sorrows of women whose souls embrace murder?'