il fait chier.
Je chie,
il faut gratter.
samedi 12 juin 2010
mardi 24 novembre 2009
Sexperience
Have you ever experienced poetry
Not as words disposed in verses
But as birds worshipped with nerves
And observed in their soft flight
Across dark skies during night?
Have you ever felt a full moon?
A bright square star full of shine
That feeds your soul while it croons
The softiest song of all the world
With notes that borns tight and dies curled...?
__________________
Last poem
Next poem
Not as words disposed in verses
But as birds worshipped with nerves
And observed in their soft flight
Across dark skies during night?
Have you ever felt a full moon?
A bright square star full of shine
That feeds your soul while it croons
The softiest song of all the world
With notes that borns tight and dies curled...?
__________________
Last poem
Next poem
Farewell
Farewell! if ever fondest prayer
For other's weal availed on high,
Mine will not all be lost in air,
But waft thy name beyond the sky.
'Twere vain to speak, to weep, to sigh:
Oh! more than tears of blood can tell,
When wrung from guilt's expiring eye,
Are in that word - Farewell! - Farewell!
These lips are mute, these eyes are dry;
But in my breast and in my brain,
Awake the pangs that pass not by,
The thought that ne'er shall sleep again.
My soul nor deigns nor dares complain,
Though grief and passion there rebel:
I only know we loved in vain -
I only feel - Farewell! - Farewell!
Lord Byron.
_____________________
Last poem
Next poem
For other's weal availed on high,
Mine will not all be lost in air,
But waft thy name beyond the sky.
'Twere vain to speak, to weep, to sigh:
Oh! more than tears of blood can tell,
When wrung from guilt's expiring eye,
Are in that word - Farewell! - Farewell!
These lips are mute, these eyes are dry;
But in my breast and in my brain,
Awake the pangs that pass not by,
The thought that ne'er shall sleep again.
My soul nor deigns nor dares complain,
Though grief and passion there rebel:
I only know we loved in vain -
I only feel - Farewell! - Farewell!
Lord Byron.
_____________________
Last poem
Next poem
samedi 14 novembre 2009
lundi 10 août 2009
Sculpture bidimensional
The image sculptor stood by the road
holding his chisel and looking around
trying to find something worthy
of his divine efforts.
The dawn approached
stealing our luxuries
and Babylon was slowly sliding
from the face of the earth.
This man all by himself
can give divine birth
and make eternal
the cigar I smoke.
Light into stone,
shadows and colors,
nothing can escape from the touch
of the sculptor.
_________________
Last poem
Next poem
holding his chisel and looking around
trying to find something worthy
of his divine efforts.
The dawn approached
stealing our luxuries
and Babylon was slowly sliding
from the face of the earth.
This man all by himself
can give divine birth
and make eternal
the cigar I smoke.
Light into stone,
shadows and colors,
nothing can escape from the touch
of the sculptor.
_________________
Last poem
Next poem
