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.

"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

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.

Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep

En ces périodes de calme où mon navire est en vitesse de croisière il y a une citation de Adam Sol (tirée de Jeremiah, Ohio) qui m'est revenue l'autre jour et que j'avais envie de vous faire partager,

"We travelers have tattooed hearts into our arms and ankles"

Sous peu un poème qui me donne du fil à retordre depuis un petit moment.

Poème

HOLIDAY INN

Hold on to the memory it's all you've got.

Things have changed.
In good and in bad,
and i hadn't.
Tears, laughs,
boxes, questions about life,
phone calls and bills,
no impact,
until tonight.

I don't want to know what time it is
or what time it is not.
The streets to the hill
still wind around
in the night and good times go.
One a.m., two or three
it makes no difference to me
because i am where i want to be
by myself,
for tonight no better company.

Tomorrow is a different story.
Yesterday was i know now,
at the time i didn't,
when it spoke no words i could hear
and showed nothing i could see
is that what they call destiny?

A light for the blind
and to yesterday's poison an antidote.

A few words on a note
might not change the world
but it can save a man,
a man who doesn't want to change.

Un lien vers la chanson d'où est tirée la citation au debut du poème:
The Distillers - The Hunger

Thursday morning brings the dawn in

Je ne suis pas allé au feu d'artifice hier soir.

Deux poèmes presque finis
et une bonne surprise musicale trouvée l'autre soir:
Duane Peters Gunfight

enjoy

Sous les tilleuls

Fernsehturm
(click for better qual!)

Unter den Linden

Holidays in the sun

Back from Berlin, loved the place, loved the people, loved the graffiti and the tattoos.

I didn't write a word there but i took cool pics, i'll probably write about it later though.

I just received the Wake Forest University poets Anthology for 2009 and look (click for better quality) :

I'm first! with To have or not to have,
I'll upload some Berlin pics but i'm out for the night!

On the road again

A litlle one before heading off to Berlin,
i take my notebook with me, see you in a week.

ELYSIA

The road dulls the spirits
slowly
like meat
on a knife.
It takes us far away from frathouses
and decent neighborhoods
on a long strip
boarded by country towns
where people tell me i am blessed
and billboard that say just enough
when clouds are shapeless.

The sun slowly sets
and hits the water tower
pink and orange replace blue,
nothing new.

Welcome to Wallace.

The road is so long it never seems to end
and we open the box of big questions
and change CDs
to the hissing sound of the AC.

Existence.
Relationships
Time and sinking ships
crashing planes,
and dead stars

but God is just a bumper sticker.
A metal fish.
A late night conversation
that divides and irritates,
anecdotes and the truths we put aside.

Taco Bells and gas stations
provide.

I read the signs but don't know the direction
i'm a passenger as always
on the passenger seat.
The road is clean and the sides are lush,
a drive through Elysia while dusk
calmly descends upon us.

Davidson, NC

Long time

Bonsoir,

So i finally made it home and after a computer fixing and an internet connexion not working for a month TruthOfMyYouth blog will be active again! I don't know how active but it will be,

Here's one:

DERIVE II

My thoughts became asphalt.

At the end of the line,
the one i drew with my bicycle,
________i found a table.

Under the big yellow M
that flared in the night
and lit solitude only
________i sat there.

Outside, aligned,
the tables were all deserted,
the city too,
below
________between the lamps,
hundreds of shimmering lamps.

I wrote a few lines
under the eyes of the cameras,
that kept watching just in case.
At a Mc Donald's, i wrote
on the cold metal
of the silent mall
________i wrote.

Some tourists were smoking cigarettes
outside the adjacent hotel
danes, czechs, germans, poles?
They threw the red butts on the floor.
One last puff and i was alone
and finally,
________i was home.

Coup de coeur muscial: myspace.com/decemberagain (normal)

Snowflakes froze my mistakes
a new season, another chance
to make it up to win the race
cause when i left without a trace
it was because i was afraid
to freeze to death
to kiss your face.