a friend once told me
never ever fall in love with a poet
he'll eat your eyes at breakfast
have your heart cooked for lunch
and in the evening he'll listen
quietly your laments
while drinking a glass full of tears
your tears
now this shit might be true or not
one thing's for certain
i've since written some poems
and always been keeping an empty glass nearby
the coffee will taste the same
the blue chair she sat in
will stay blue
her PC screen – darkened for a while
her pictures – gone
people will chit chat in lower voices about the same things
money/hair/kids/grit/turkeys
the delivery boy will bring the mail
at 11:00 AM sharp
babies will cry until their mothers will feed them
mothers will moan until their babies turn will come
some managers will keep planning targets
some employees will keep ignoring them
some will loose a key from their drawers
Her ankle softly torment on the chest
Released my wings so sharpen and so thin
Into the breath of spring from east to west
And the enchanted world that lies within.
Two flowers blink and misty rivers grow
When I can see my body from above,
When all the riddles have the answer – no,
When Eden’s lost and death is chasing love;
But when I see the sprightly nymph, a thorn
la nuit est comme la caresse du papillon
parmi des mots déchirés d’oubli
ses lettres brûlent encore
ma peau...mes rêves
glissent silencieusement
sous nos prochains réverbères éteints
Comentarii aleatorii