Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Schweppes, vélo et disque volant

Je vous promet que j'aimerai écrire plus que des bribes de fin de soirée mais je ne trouve pas le temps, à part en fin de soirée si mais bon.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009

"Faut respecter toutes les marques"

Un poème en préparation, bientôt sur cette même page. En fait des fois il y a une phrase que je trouve cool et je me dis que je vais la noter et partir de là, mais cette phrase que je trouvais trop cool, qui m'etais venu lors d'un tour de vélo a la Toison d'Or (comme souvent,) avais disparu dans les tréfonds de mon esprit un peu comme un cosmonaute en détresse dans le noir galactique,

mais en triant mes SMS hier soir (de temps en temps, il faut,) j'ai retrouvé cette phrase, oui je l'avais enregistrée dans un message.
Cette magnifique transition pour attirer votre attention sur le blog de Valérian, le collage au top du top, pas les collages de grains de riz sur rouleaux de pq pour la fête des mères ou autres gommettes, non du grand collage, du collage d'homme, en somme, bref:

Firstmanintospace

Bonne journée, n'oubliez pas de faire du vélo et vive la musique des années 80...et Morsay aussi

Sunday, August 2, 2009

poème (updated)

I'LL GO WITH YOU

One cloud is enough to cover the sun
and in the garden
my cousin swings life away,
as a kid would.

She reminds me of the time when
i swung life away too,
close to the cherry tree and
only bothered by the asparagus plant
that stroke my leg and that i found ugly.
It was forbidden to touch it.
I'm not even sure that plant ever gave asparaguses,
what i'm sure of is that i grew older.

Today, i left the city for the wild country
to find sunflowers all lined up and sad.

The wind makes ripples
in the rye like waves.
I finish a can of tonic
and stare from the plastic chair
reclining back on fragile legs
and sink in an abyss.

When i once left
on a dock called August,
i didn't think twice.
What would i do now?
What should i do now?

Every night i walk the streets
of dogs and newspaper headlines,
of scattered sounds and pouring rain
of pearls and pills
and on a different continent
i see the same faces.

Last night, i was thinking of a big clipper ship
and a beer can showed me one
as it rolled on the sidewalk
from a bum's corner.
AMSTERDAM MAXIMATOR 11.6%
Brewed in the Finest Tradition
SUPER STRONG.

While locking my bike i heard him play
some notes i could not recall immediatly
but that i was sure i knew.
On a not so beat-up guitar
with a sticker i could not figure out,
he played I wish you were here by Pink Floyd
as Gab did,
maybe a little less well.

I wish Gab could have been there to tell him
"you should play it like this,"
but nobody says should to a bum
and nobody says I'll go with you
either.