Hollo(panta)gramme

Colles les mots, sur rien, comme un tableau noir, fait de la nuit, l'école du vide, ne change pas d'avis, les doigts Hans! désarticule le son de la mécanique des corps, brûle, brûle,brûle je ne ressens rien de tout façon,la maison aux couteaux ,tu parles en cercle, tu as le goût de toutes ces filles, les bottes en cuir chevauchent des corps inertes, ta voix lointaine; je ne comprend pas les mots du vent, la main enlève les cheveux, eux faux, couleur du soleil déserté, gestuelle cataclysmique, les planètes;une rotation inversées,et pourtant: je me tiens là, sans conséquence, sans substance, rien, le désert est notre fils qui vomit dans le Styx, trop de vin, noir,je te cherche,silence et symbole vert et puis rien,doigt suspendu, sur une bouche déjà close, rien, juste toi.

Painting: Nicola Samori

Hollo(panta)gramme English

Glue the words, on nothingness,like a black board, made off night, the scolar void,,don't change your mind, the Hans fingers! dislocate the sound of bodies mechanics,burn, burn, burn, I don't feel anything anyway,the knife house, you talk in circle,you taste like all those girls, the leather boots astride inert bodies,your voice: far; I don't comprehend the wind's words, the hand remove the hair, fake, color of the deserted sun, cataclysmal body language, the planets; a inverted rotation, but still; I am standing here, without consequence, without substance, nothing, the desert is our son throwing up on the Styx,too much wine, black, am looking for you, silence, green symbol and then nothing, hanging finger, on a already closed mouth, nothing, just you.

Painting: Nicola Samori

Thelema

La main: serrée

une mer rouge: nous faisons ce que nous voulons

les morts courent vite

les couteaux sont lourds

je coiffe tes cheveux

Je suis Ta femme écarlate

Thelema

Le coeur: plat principal

le lit défait; des tâches

Je suis ta femme tâche

blanche, rouge, une allumette

brule le souvenirs et les bleus

une nouvelle peau: la nuit est morne

les rêves isolés

Je suis Ta femme écarlate

Thelema

loin loin loin

elles ont toutes le même visage

leurs cheveux m'étranglent

leur rires; vomissures d'un ciel écarlate

je suis le pendu des mots

La bouche; cathartique les rues se referment

je me perds; chaire incandescente

Je suis Ta femme écarlate

Aucuns souvenirs; l'oeil se fane

tu marches avec nous

je ne te veux plus et je t'aime

la maison molle

les garçons sauvages; un morceau

morcellement d'essence

Je suis la Femme feu

ils m'ont brûlée pour moins que ça

Thelema

The hand: tight

a red sea: we do what we want

the dead runs fast

knives are heavy

I comb your hair

I am your scarlet Wife

Thelema

Heart: main-course

the undone bed: stains

I am your scarlet Wife

white, red, a match

burning the reminders and bruises

a new skin: the night is dismal

isolated dreams

I am your scarlet Wife

Thelema

far far far

they all have the same faces

their hair strangling me

their laughter: spew out scarlet sky

I am the words hanged man

The mouth: cathartic the streets closes up

I am loosing myself: incandescent flesh

I am your scarlet Wife

No memories: the eye wither

you walk with us

I don't want you anymore and I love you

the soft house

the wild boys: a piece

parceling essence

I am the Fire Wife

they burned me for less than this

Thelema

Picture: Lissy Elle

Adiour Horses

Who ruined their mother's, Girls

Collected amnesia with dry space, Girls

Each other, Girls

Ruined the womb, throw me a hundred

affordable

love, Girls

Ruined their mother's wombs, Girls

Matter discarded, Girls

Each other, Girls

Adiour Horses,

Dna pilgrimage, scattered lungs, Girls

Quiet! Girls

Who ruined her mother's womb, Girl.

For Karl Holmqvist

Picture: Lissy Laricchia

Hysetria

It is not just the scars,

it is the landscapes; dry

It is not just the tears

it is a room; empty

It is not just the numbness

it is a search

I crossed unknown roofs

Measured the lights

Hoping for the Greatness

of uncanny heights

It is not just the blue and the red

it was a urge to fed

It is not just a slap

it is a world divided, apart

It is not about me and you

it is about stealing fire

when the house burn down

I wandered through flammes

stray in the air

for a scattered jaw

of words unknown

It is not just the love

it is a hand over the night

It is not about the blood

it is about pagan laugh

I crossed unknow bodies

Measure darkness

in a sardonic smile:

I was gone

Picture: Lissy Laricchia

I Wolf

I wolf, cold wind,

fur made of beatings, the night

has slits my throat,

you stand still, within death reach

and only a thin blade set me apart from you

but i let you go, as i always do.

Je suis loup,vent froid

pelage fait de battements, la nuit

a tranché ma gorge,

tu restes là, à portée de mort

et seule une fine lame me sépare de toi

mais je te laisse partir,comme toujours.

Picture Lissy Laricchia

Seaward

Skype Music; new project Patrick Seabase//Vena Ward, more to come…