Wrecked trash

A bottle at the sea

Bullied by the waves

Reaches the dump continent

Of trash prayers

Ignored by the gods


I feel like a piece of trash

I feel so filty


But evertime I think of pulling the plug

I think of your pain

Then I’m commitedto stay

Forever bounded to broken soul brothers


The storm’s coming once more

The wind is pushing me away

But never I could tell

Where ends this world

Nor this darkness

Our hope fated to drown at birth


Send me an eagle

I’m adrift

And drowning






The Storm is Here (To Stay)

A storm is here
It’s dark, it’s gloomy
And I feel your absence
Stabbing through my ventricle
They’re kind of romantic
The birds are standing
High on the bough
Trying to reach the sky
Attracted by its electricity
The birds…
Are energy
The birds
Carry our souls
Beyond this world
The storm is here
And I’m not only talking about weather
The storm is here to stay
As the world is falling apart
The sky is gray
Black is my heart
As I fade away
I won’t come back
I’m the gatherer of souls
I wish to protect yours
But far away you went
And here…
We’ll never meet again
I’m carrying a wound
I cannot be repaired
I thought so
But I was wrong
Don’t let me rot here
At the gate of your city
For the spoil of your scavengers
Please, darling
Do not abandon
All of our dreams
The storm’s here to stay
As I fade away
Into oblivion

Commentaires fermés sur The Storm is Here (To Stay) Posted in Poésie


My eyes in Ionian tears
Standing at the gate
For ages, your return my fears await
Through the flames of Troy
And the betrayal
Babe, your city was burning
And the sea is raging
Beyond the wave
I can hear Calypso’s moaning
As she reaches climax
In appreciation of your unfaithful art
Damned to the abyss
I welcome the blazing tide
To silence my pain
Shuts her up
Faithful bargainer of perpetual grief
I’m fucking Penelope
For ages I’ll wait for your return
Pushing them fuckers away
Lit my dreams
You are all I can think of, babe
So let me know
Pick up my bow
Accept the challenge
Step into the beam
Don’t let me rot here
At the gate of your kingdom
For the contentment of them vultures
Everything behind the odyssey
Nothing before their eyes
But our muse
Our duality
Sets one foot in the light
Casting the other into the darkness
The right in white
The left in Hell
At ending the Cycle, should we fail
Our remains good for the spoil of the scavengers
Our legacy for the delight of immaterial

The Gardian of the Soul

I’m a strayed cat
In perpetual self-impermanence
The past and the future create present
For we carry the weight of our wounds
And project ourselves into the light
Heading forward
Present is an illusion
Ephemeral, untouchable
Unless I can feel your lips
And your words…
I will live 120 years
And will carry on
And will carry my love for you
And if necessary
Its non mutuality
So the beauty and the soul
Can keep breathing
Keep beating my lines
So I keep the faith
In myself
In humanity, my love
I’m a strayed cat
In perpetual self-impermanence
My open gate
Welcomes your light
Shine upon my path
Fill me with your joy
And maybe with a little more
I’ve been gathering the pages
A story is written there
It’s not of this time
Nor of this world
It was only told
The ancients painted their lips
In all the shades of its verses
Venus spoke to me
Told me I’m wounded
But I’ll heal
I promise you
I’ll live 120 years
To carry my love for you
Above the seas
No mountain will be tall enough
I won’t back off
What’s your name, honey?
Not your earthly name
What did they call you?
Hold my hand now
The tornadoes and the tsunami invade the plain
The havoc has no cure
But our love
Shadows are tracking us down
But we’ll live past the hundred, my dear
And lies can’t deny us passage
Towards the light
Your my brother soul
The sky shall rain on us
Its perseides
I’m a strayed cat, my love
Gardian of your soul
I will carry on
And maybe a little more…

I’m going home.

Commentaires fermés sur The Gardian of the Soul Posted in Poésie

Prophétie 4 – Livre des ombres triturés

Un genou enfoncé dans la terre, une lame écarlate à la main, tête baissée, je contemple la plaie par laquelle s’accumule à l’envers de ma vie, à chaque goutte tombée.

Autour de moi, de milliers d’yeux portant sur la moitié moins d’âmes guettent dans l’effarement et la confusion ce moment où je courbe l’échine pour contempler, au-delà de ma propre affliction, le corps de ton antagoniste refroidissant dans la boue, parmi les déchets, à sa juste place.

Chacune de mes inspirations, chacune des pulsations de mon cœur meurtri tentent de pallier à l’hémorragie et la joie porte sur nous, êtres abîmes, un regard brisé.

Les circonstances accumulent l’évidence, mais je t’en fais la promesse, je ne quitterai pas ce monde, pas ce soir. J’aperçois ton tant aimé visage alors que du bout de tes doigts caressant ma peau maculée de terre et de sang, tu décryptes mon histoire, comme on le ferait pour de vieux hiéroglyphes. Ils t’enseigneraient de vielles vérités; ils t’auraient raconter ce qui va suivre.

Goutte par goutte, culmine une puissance hors de ce monde, hors de ce temps.

L’entaille s’élargit enfin, comme à la naissance de la lumière, mon corps se tend, mes bras s’écartant de celui-ci, mon visage vers le ciel, dans un hurlement à gorgée déployée que nul astre ne peut ignorer, torturée par la douleur inhérente à la gésine du nouveau monde, j’ordonnai à l’Univers de te préserver et il répond par la beauté d’une pluie de ses joyaux perséides.

Ainsi s’annonce le soulèvement des malmenés.

Commentaires fermés sur Prophétie 4 – Livre des ombres triturés Posted in Politique