On the Road

I finished On the Road by Jack Kerouack a few days ago and i regret i haven't read it before.
Exactly all i like.
Those who read it will understand, it might sound cliché but some art productions are just timeless.

Projet?

Couverture du recueil DIY qui est censé voir le jour sous peu :

Poeme X UPDATED

AMICITIA

I was riding on this train
lost in thoughts and memories,
lying stretched across two seats
feeling the restless rumble
with pictures of this girl
I'd never hold anymore on my mind
and eating expensive chocolate bars.
I was filling the small metal trashcan
which smells like ashes
with paper wraps.

I looked outside, the sun was about to rise
on the cow sprinkled fields,
ready to unveil the farms, the forests,
the landscapes
you only see through a french train window.
Always the same, as the smell
and the cold metal of the vent marking my elbow.
I could not shake the last image
i caught of my friends waving
leaning against a rail
one of them holding a coffee cup
steaming in the morning cold.

Them who sat with me in this house,
separated from the world,
laughing and singing,
not thinking one of us could be sad
on the phone with his girl
who had stolen all of his life.

The hour would come when our time would be over,
leaving only reminders:
sand in our shoes, music in our heads
from the strings that we strummed
or the song that we sang.
Some had already left.
Even though i was there
meeting their eyes across the room
listening to their words,
my dearest friends,
my mind was already gone
my eyes looking away
as they did on this train.

Drowsy, i felt it
would never stopped.
I imagined the end of the railroad track,
me standing at the edge of the world that i call mine
and a brand new one stretching in front of my eyes.
I was alone
with my twenty two years and a one-way plane ticket.

This one goes out to Kate (even though not about her) for giving all its sense to the Internet.

Poeme VII

LOTUS

I sneeze and hear the vibrations
in the body of my acoustic guitar
which leans against the corner of the heater
it is not at its place by the window;
i broke a string like this three winters ago.
I put it in another corner of the bedroom.
A white box with no perspective.

They are all parallel,
the pictures pinned on the shelf of the desk,
parallel with themselves, the walls,
the formica frame,
the speakers, books, paper stacks,
the lines of the drawers,
the laptop computer,
the desktop picture of the laptop computer,
CD boxes, little notes and schedule sheet,

The edge of the paper
on which i write lines,
not all straight
going to the basement or the attic
(as my primary school teacher said.)
Stanzas scribbled, crossed out,
sentenced to parole
until there is almost no white left.

A poem will grow out of this mess,
and'll never wither.

Poeme VI UPDATED

VELVET

I am in a dark room,
on a bed.
Under the covers.
It is not so dark since the light is strong
behind the blinds,
they are like my eyelids, not completely opaque.
I don't really know what time it is,
late in the afternoon probably,
i feel fine.
When my eyes are closed,
i could be anywhere,
this bedroom or another.
When i open my eyes i could see angels
painted on the ceiling
like in this bedroom
where she and i used to lie together.
I wait for the moment
when thoughts turn into dreams.

Now I open my eyes.
I stare at the walls, one by one,
white,
the same posters,
the same pictures,
but i still linger on them,
the variety of thoughts that arise in my mind
makes me leave them on the wall
and keep exploring each corner,
each letter,
each face,
the ceiling has a lot to look at too,
the design of the tiles,
i keep counting.

Music is playing.
Crystal guitar
the voice which sounds like cigarette,
the gentle, steady tambourine.
I'm not tired, i'm just lazy.
I'm a little bit tired
but i love being here,
all day.
"I want to nullify my life,"
i don't really know what that means
but i agree,
it is night in the day
and i nap my life away.

Un poeme que j'ai écrit il y a un petit moment, petit clin d'oeil au Velvet Underground

Bonsoir

j'avoue ça fait un bail que j'ai pas mis á jour, je reviens de Californie, j'ai quelque poemes presque prets je vais les poster.

peace out
stay gold
jah rastafarai