A Seven Dayed America

For a while
I close the door
Closing behind
Closed doors
A while
To remember
I've closed 
Before
I remember
A space
A room
To remember
A while
Ago
I've stepped inside
To begin
My dream
As I began
To step inside
To Mark
My Beginning
I began
Inside
To begin
The Beginning
That would last
My last beginning
For a while
I think
This thought
I trace
The lines
Of your lips
In my thoughts
You smiled.

DUNES

Hills collides with the sea,

where bodies emerges and submerges; consciousness of the grey dunes.

PYTHIA

God-like erected,

you climb windows

as eylashes in flames 

In the dark

there is no one to know

For you say: I AM THE SUN

in that room

You

Always were known by

Phyagorian' sons

of

God-like erected shouts

On blinded Pythia

your Delphic stones

vaporous bodies off

Godess-like

Riding the depht of your

Sun eyed snakes

There is no one to know

in the dark

For your mouth is chasm

Of unknown death.

In the death of your eyes

I

She is radiant/hermetical to her nothingness. We stopped by the lake. Everything was quiet there-I've felt it- quiet and irrational, misshaped in his eyes ; the lake.

I've never really planned on being here with him, making it so easy, so easy for him and his breathing whom I've felt alternating in flashes of irregular thoughts. BUT I had a knife, as always. I won't make it that easy for him.

His skin was recognizable, every inches detailed by time's landscapes markings. In the back of my neck; his hand.

''I know this wind'' he says. ''The smell of it on the tip of my finger''. Why can't I recognize you? I thought. You are everyone in this moment.

Stranded

I had stand in the dark, stranded, off memory
White voices on a half Astron,
maybe it was a kindly gaze
maybe it was The Mother,
half blinded on descending skies
but
it was capricious
on a mouthful haze
The quietness of this night,
the quietness of this stilled night,
the quietness of the space
between empty shapes
I do not know
Why me is not another
Why am I watering unaligned words
orphaned from reason.
I had stand proud and in lies
therein laid my tired body
over the lunar desert of dried up eyes.
I am there.
Watching
the flowers carousel wooden dreams
where music had stopped:
bring me back
just bring me back
for I am stranded on your dark hair
night
I am
that
off
memory






Picture: Susu Laroche

Splatter

Let's end this by returning where we came from

a cosmic blank plastered in white

as we never had a name

we'll leave it to the hang man

stand still with no fight

as I wonder

I don't understand this encounter

A supernatural kidnapping

at some supermarket's beam

the distance can only be dignified

and we have to love this ending

I please you

I make you come

I forget you while you're still breathing.

While you're barricading your breath  

something pronounce your death

maybe it was my voice

maybe it was the sea breaking

in two

as for always 
we were always one

never me

never you

am the window banging

in radiant endings

you're the ashtray of my thoughts

scattered snapshots

even though I ve eroded my knees

as pale empty submarines 

I don't regret this knife

and books never read 

on how to 
handle soulless meat

it was me the steps who stopped from
bleeding

backward

Let's end this by returning to this evening

that never happened

or maybe it did

I was never good for such remembering

though it is funny now

while nothing make sense

staring at a room

I' ll be painting red

Picture: Todd Hido

Chronicles of the empty world part: I

French and english version

Tomber amoureuse toute seule, marcher dans des rues mornes,l'asphalte comme autant de chaires flasques, glissement de l'âme, un peu à gauche, oui juste là, vas-y, évapore-toi, cours et oublis, oublis tout ce qui ne t'es jamais arrivé, oublie que tu viens d'aimer en une nuit, et que cette nuit ne se reproduira plus jamais.

Etait-ce parce que tu pense ne ressembler à rien? Mais même ce rien est une substance, un plasma de vie, un faux-semblant, un ectoplasme d'une vie que tu n'auras pas, pas avec lui.

Les fils restent immobiles alors que rien ne l'est dans la nature, des choses, des hommes,du bon sens, mais cette rencontre ,ces paroles, cette disparition, elles rallongent un temps que tu souhaiterais vraiment voir soit revenir soit n'avoir jamais eu lieu, car tu ne comprends pas cette sensation monochromatique. 

Une sensation d alcoolisme inutile, une merde céleste, un vomit cosmique sur ta nouvelle robe que de toute façon il ne verra jamais.

Alors tu erres dans les rues avec soit-disant ''des choses à faire'' mais ces ''choses'' soudainement te semble les plus absurdes de toute ta vie, parce que soudainement ton seul intérêt ici c'est une nuit qui ne reviendra pas, quelqu'un auquel tu n'as laissé aucune impression,tout comme il n'est point besoin de se concentrer pour faire battre son coeur,il est inutile de se penser en marque indéniablement laissée. Tu n'es rien. En fait tu es Tout mais tu n'es qu'un moment pour tout les autres alors qu'eux sont toute une existence que tu vis en ne vivant pas la tienne.

C'est humiliant, oui c'est humiliant le silence, le silence qui ne sers aucune essence mais qui au contraire t'empêche de respirer correctement. Tu te sens ridicule d'être seule à ressentir cela. Ridicule dans cet isolement du monde alors qu'intérieurement tu lui fait un gros fuck you.

Cela faisait longtemps, rentrer dans une maison encombrée et poussiéreuse, et d'un doigt,une personne ouvre les fenêtres, cela faisait longtemps que tu n'avais plus vu le soleil, tout te semble vide comme tout l'est toujours pour toi, malgré tout tes efforts, sourires, perte de poids, changement de couleurs de cheveux, d'humeur, tu penses que tu ne seras jamais assez, simplement parce que tu as passé ta vie à vouloir être autre avec l'autre. 

English 

Falling in love alone,walking in dreary streets, asphalt as layers of flaccid flesh, soul's sliding,a little to the left, yes right there, go on, evaporates, run and forget, forget everything that never happen to you, forget that you just love within one night and that this night will never come back again. Was it because you thought you looked like nothing? But even this nothing is a substance, a life's plasma of emptiness, a sham, a ectoplasm of life you will never have, nevertheless not with him. 

Wires stand still while there's nothing as such in the nature,of things,of mankind, of common sense, but this encounter,these words, this disappearance, extend a time that you really wish could either come back either had never happened, because you do not understand this monochromatic situation. 

A alcoholic sensation of uselessness, a celestial shit, a cosmic spit up on your brand new dress that he won't ever see anyway.

And so you wander in the streets with some ''am supposed to do things'' but these ''things''  suddenly seems the most absurd thing of all your life, because suddenly your only interest here it's a night that will never comes back, someone upon whom you left no impression, as it is not necessary to concentrate in order to make your heart beat, it is then useless to think about yourself as a undeniably mark you would have left. You are nothing. As a matter of fact you are ALL but you are only a moment to anyone's else while they are for you a whole existence you live instead of living your own.

It is humiliating, yes silence is humiliating, the silence that doesn't serve any essence but that on the contrary, prevent you to breath correctly. You feel ridiculous to be the only one feeling that. Ridiculous in this isolation from the world while in the mean time you are screaming fuck you on the inside.

It was since a long time, getting inside a clog up and dusty house and with just one finger, someone opens the window, it was since a long time that you haven't seen the sun, everything seems empty to you, as always, despite all your efforts, smiles, weight loss, hair color changes and moods, you simply think you will never be enough, only because you have spend your entire life wanting to be someone else to be with someone.

Picture : Todd Hido

Where did my men left

Where did my men left

consumed in 

the memory

sailing boat, aboard an artificial

light, harbor, delightful sins

where are my men

lost at sea, you see nothing

ever made any sense, thus 

meaning had no place in here

seeking it out, the guts of a soul

that stood

there.

always.

silent.

One by one they 've sailed

to a firm tight that

will keep them anchored

here

forever

in the denial of true

feelings

there.

always.

silent.

I stood there, watery

fierce and forsaken

I've lay in them, melted

the drop frozen, stone's skin

screaming as moon-like being

I've opened

the cave 

lost the keys, forgotten reef

from where they came 

wash me

wash me away

roll on me

as I stay stiff

in their golden

seaweed

always.

forever

left open

Where did my men left?

Picture: Lissy Laricchia

In the Darkness of Skins, Changes Make Us Orphans

You make

turn (the) tables

and everybody applaud you

In here nobody is known by you

They absorb the light

as long as there will be bodies to be taken

you'll be ok

in the darkness of skins,

changes make us orphans.

Tu Fais tourner les tables et tout le monde t'applaudit

Tu ne connais personne ici

Ils absorbent la lumière

Mais tant qu'il y'aura des corps à prendre

tu seras ok

Dans une obscurité de peaux,

changer fait de nous des orphelins.

I do not have matches anymore

The sensual delight of the architectural anarchy

utters a shout of broken mirror

You know me, so you say

But I, on that side of your voice

the rain falls.

We thread tears in the window

changing the sight

without any brave return to wait for

only a day of pierced nocturnal

still one

where all the shouts become liquid

You step over empty bottles

from which none history is

known by you

Beyond faint and indeterminate thighs

Then

and only then

we speak of enamored reality

forgotten on a bookcase of 

uncanny books

which gauges us ceaselessly

and laughs at our triviality

You look at nothing of me and

you hold your breath in a room in walls red

How many heart beats you still need?

We look for novelty in dirty sheets

instead of washing them

We burn ever born memories

in empty rooms

We burn in rooms emptied of

emphatic suns who taste like desert

for

only then

sing the romance of vampiric burns

You look at me through tears

talking a aquarium language

Then if you insist

and only if you insist

we shall go to these streets

stripped off decent celestial bodies

while our faces will become

difficult to take into account

Then maybe

and only maybe

we shall understand our love

French

Je n'ai plus d'allumettes

La volupté de l'anarchie architecturale

émet un cri de miroir brisé

Tu me connais, tu dis

Mais moi, de ce côté-ci de ta voix

la pluie tombe.

On enfile des larmes à la fenêtre

changeant la vue

sans retour vaillant à attendre

seulement une journée a trouée nocturne

encore une

où tout cris deviennent liquides

Tu enjambe des bouteilles vides

dont tu ne connais l'histoire

Par-delà des cuisses faibles et indeterminées

Alors

et seulement Alors

Nous parlons de réalité amoureuse

oubliée sur une étagères de livres étranges

qui nous jauge sans cesse

et se moque de notre trivialité

Tu ne regardes rien de moi et

tu retiens ton souffle dans une pièce aux murs rouge.

Combien de battements de coeur te faut-il encore?

Nous cherchons de la nouveauté dans des draps sales

au lieu de les laver

Nous brûlons dans des chambres vides

des souvenirs jamais nés

Nous brûlons dans des chambres vides

de soleils emphatiques au goût de désert

pour seulement

alors

chanter la romance de brûlures vampiriques

Tu me regardes au travers de larmes

parlant un langage d'aquarium

Alors si tu insiste

et seulement si tu insiste

nous irons dans ces rues

dénudés d'astres décents

Pendant que nos visages deviendront

difficile à prendre en compte

Alors peut-être

et seulement peut-être

comprendrons-nous notre amour.

Picture: Ralph Eugene Meatyard

Die Trümmenfrauen - Les Femmes des Décombres-

Et les hommes on laissé la poussière

encore une fois

sur nos robes élimée, bombe h baby orgasme radio-actif

Oeil de verre, lignes brisée

nous sommes les femmes des décombres

il y a tout sous nos robes, et

de l entre jambe

jaillit,

le commencement d'un matin stérile mais plein

le mal de dos amoureux, pierre par pierre

nous dansons sur le feu

de vos langues orgueilleuses

bâtissez maintenant avec vos queues

elle hurle mais nous avons autre chose à faire

que de pleurer les fantômes de poussière

décrépies

violée

effacée

humide et sèche, aux rythmes brisé

les femmes des décombres

l'horreur n'est pas le vide laissé

mais le manque d'idée pour le combler

Fausse colline, invoquons les Dieux illustres

poussiéreux en haillons, à genoux nous nous sauvons

pierre par pierre, oeil pour oeil

une fois de plus

les hommes n'ont laissé que la poussière.

English

The Rubble Women

And men left only dust

once again

on our worn dresses, H bomb baby radio-actif orgasm

Glass eye,broken lines

we are the rubble women

under our dresses remain everything and

from the crotch

gush out

the beginning of a sterile but yet full morning

the loving back pain, stone after stone

we are dancing on

your proud fire tongues

Go on, build now with your dicks

She roars but we have other things to do

That to cry the ghosts of dust

decrepit

raped

erased

wet and dry,

in the broken rhythms

horror is not the space left

but the lack of idea to fill it

Distort hill,

Let's conjure the illustrious Gods

Dusty in rags, on our knees we're running away

stone by stone, an eye for an eye

once again

men only left dust

Picture: Ralph Meatyard

Rest

I am not as brave as you

It is so so quiet here

where the fire rest.

Picture: Lissy Elle

EmptyNest

Tonight I've cried for you

or maybe I've cried for us

this scattered pieces falling off

ending moons and goddess of

the sun light stuck in

parallel dreams at the bottom of

a falling drink, drop /tear out/

this distance, fucking flesh this hand

on my head swinging the time mocking

any lines I do draw off

a falling sky

am sorry am turning you to someone you are not

just so I can own this pain this filtered air

parsimoniously nourishing my empty nest

Am sorry I can't even own this

the wand biting thighs, the eyes hors champs

a hand grabbing mine

and you'll never know how emptynest

the river of mine, traveling through desperate frames

while everyone else here are ''so fine''

''Hi''

''hi''

smile and sleep smile and sleep

they'll never let me leave am here forever

''Hi''

''hi''

waited for a ghost with a broken lighter of

tired god-like manicures

turn off your skin this liquor of

endings

and I fucking cried for us

I fucked the liquid blind

I fucked with or without light

this scattered pieces falling off

ending moons and goddess of

emptynesting the burden from

a night that should have never come.

Picture: Lissy Laricchia

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