Mardi 24 novembre 2009 à 10:30

http://petit.pois.cowblog.fr/images/180pxMalcolmXbulletholes2.jpg A heart for nothing

don't need one if I love no one.

Drums and violons in my head, 

my life needs rythms. 

I fell in love,
with a place.
But all things go.

Vendredi 20 novembre 2009 à 17:35

http://petit.pois.cowblog.fr/images/467439024.jpg Waiting in the ether.

 

It'll take all of my strength to give up

Can't afford to be just one in a flock,

become lost or mislaid

Most ideas turn to dust

And does anything I say seem relevant at all?

You've been at the helm since you were just five,

While I cannot claim to be more than a passenger,

Looking on the brighter side.

You better hurry,

Rabbit, run, run, run.

The worst part is over,

Now, get back on that horse and ride.

 

You belong to a simpler time

I'm a victim to the impact of these words,

And this rhyme.

Stepping over what now towers to the sky,

With no connection.

And let's jump out the window.

They are cold, still,
to form, feel, kill, propagate, only to die.
Dissolve magically, absurdly,
they'll end, leave, dissipate, coldly and strangly return.


Samedi 14 novembre 2009 à 15:03

http://petit.pois.cowblog.fr/images/552012097962116931432377494305843442607957n.jpg Les jours paraissent longs quand on ne fait qu'attendre. 

My secret garden isn't really secret anymore. It's is polluted by all those strangers.
Stupid me. It has helped nothing. 
A regret only remains. Still.
Frustration grows inside of my garden. 
Birds are not allowed to fly until I'm happy. The river has dried up.
Ghosts are hunting my garden.
Afterall secrets make life even more interesting.


All in my head ?

Everybody destroys and life is ruined.

Mercredi 4 novembre 2009 à 19:25

j'avais ce gros chat dans ma gorge, qui m'empêchait de respirer et mes idées de voyager. le chat est dans le jardin. 

accross the kitchen floor. 

I said i'm not coming out until this is all over. maybe i will, and so explose and reburn. again. 

How can people anticipate my feelings, as even I can't understand them. I just feel the pression in the air.
`the bads and the goods.`


I turn to the sun, and look ahead. I'm blind in the shadow of the greatest. 

singing is crying our thoughts. 

http://petit.pois.cowblog.fr/images/cashkofferDWKult948730g.jpg

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