Archivi categoria: Other
in the bleak midwinter,
snow melting, funny jokes,
Connecting people, missing transmission, blackout.
Unable to live, control.
Unchain, my mind is unleashed.
Negotiate for me,
and as the bombs approach we will share our feelings on the web.
Make the money move, ruin them,
make them suffer for the sake of the Nation.
Embrace me, far away from all this mess,
far away from the people who dare to offend you,
who are shocked at the sight of a same-sex kiss.
Kiss without any limit, let them feel ashamed.
And this song is hurting as a stylet,
a stain burning on my skin.
The cold bites my body,
a sense of loneliness,
that I would have never thought to feel,
her abandon. She cries like a baby.
I try to look for a place to hide,
but the only solution would be to get under the covers,
receive the warmth of the night,
release my body through the land of dreams,
instead of resisting here,
to fake the existence while I want for a change,
and I share some words with a far-away soul.
or points heading to a crash?
Then, after the smoke will be swept away,
and the riot will begin,
what will you do?
Where will you take shelter?
Under the table ice is consolidating in huge buckets,
Words left alone.
The desire of feeling a human body close to mine,
the sudden feeling of an arm around my chest.
Other noises, other silences.
She sleeps, she hopes to wake up to a greener world,
while I wake up feeling the blue.
Then I build up my smile,
try to be strong through the day,
telling me endlessly: you are you,
you fell into the greatest mistake of your life,
allowing an unintelligible destiny
to chain my wings to the ground,
allowing my brain not to run away,
to tell you that I loved you.
But I lied..
Why? Still I ask myself why.
Then path became slippery,
and I followed the flow,
but inside, that chance, that flight that I should have caught,
is still there waiting for me.
Wait for me!
Wait for me!
Wait for me!
The blinding smile of a perfection behind the screen.
stop to cry,
wipe away your tears.
A red ‘E’ hanging on the wall,
the heat suffocates me.
My eyes are cascading,
words that are a whirlwind, a mess, an undistinguished murmur.
How can they speak about that all the time? How can they just talk like this?
I feel on the outside, I don’t want to be like them.
They don’t want to meet me,
that smile could be my safety, but I will never be brave enough to open my mouth.
A red beard. A vanishing face, bloddy lips.
I don’t want to get out of this safe refuge.
I want to touch their skin, I want to be their head, I want the peace and joy and quietness in their mind.
The strength of their means, no uncertainties.
Neons, my eyelids are heavy.
Smile for me, without knowing that I’m watching you,
your big arms shine as a safe harbor.
I’m ashamed, wrong, the fag you hate.
The judgement of the world is smashing my sensations.
A new ceiling,
my eyes a trail of tear on empty and dark roads.
What am I doing?
I don’t even understand why I went there,
and I remember how lonesome I was.
I don’t feel anything,
Let me get the time to write,
to craft a story,
to be safe,
to stand the challenge
Under the lights, aside, apart from the mess.
I see unnamed meaning’s faces, talking and moaning,
erasing their protections as the clock ticks on.
Faces, smarter people.
A sweetness forbidden.
I watch them from a distance,
too weak to make a move,
too stunned to feel something.
He touches her,
an interests. Beats.
I want to cry so bad,
let me cry, I want my tears back.
I can’t stand the difference of time,
standing under the dimming light of the moon.
There’s no one around me, I’m alone.
No time to understand what’s going on, no time to think.
The river flows unrelentingly,
between the Valleys of the Meadows of Heaven,
the peak of the Mountain still shines.
I’m in the hole, waiting for the time.
A boring movie on a quiet slow evening,
efforts of nothingness.
One week ago. The cage.
A violent but creepy break out.
One year thrown away,
what seemed impossible turned to reality,
We are like strangers,
you are a shadow of something I can hardly recognize,
a smile, your dream, useless pain.
I’ve put the gun against my forehead,
letting you pull the trigger at my command.
I’ve locked the door with my own trembling hands,
too weak to fight for myself.
I’ve tied my hands on the arms of this lonesome chair,
cracking down slowly suffocating in your smoke.
Projects, eyes, money wasted.
Two minutes of madness, a headlong.
Crazy epiphany of an ironic destiny.
Your sentences are like thin air,
pulled up by your breath,
but invisible on the road when it lays down on the gravel.
Another cage, and then the jump.
White lines, unknown pleasures.
Blackness, light behind the windowpane.
the green luminance that I won’t see anymore,
a dead end I won’t drive till the end.
these ruins we built so perfectly.
The humid smell of trimmed grass in the timid warmth of the sunny afternoon,
the joyful tweeting of the birds hidden amid the branches of the trees,
colourful blooming flowers rising in the flower beds.
The gateway closed in front of me and the empty courtyard of the house on the other side of the street struck me with unexpected violence.
This smell. This smell of once upon a time, when I was just whispering to the clouds to move away, to give room to the sun.
A child, dreamy-eyed facing the future.
All his dreams on the table, reality was hidden under a cap of morning dew, whose aroma was in his head and in his nose.
He was smiling, and dreaming, and wishing himself to be strong, while writing his thoughts on paper, stories of courageous heroes, wonderful landscapes and a battles to win.
He wanted to set out. He was smelling the sound of an upcoming summer, owning up to his proper feelings and the people he loved the most, and the burning love of him, denied and forgotten, closed in the safest box and threw to the bottom of the deepest ocean.
Thus, he was just loitering in the overseas dream, smelling the never ending fields of another land, far away from itself, far away from the people who could judge him.
And his voice was a guiding light, helping him to understand the language of his own wishes, his efforts to improve himself.
He used to write every night, alone, praying to have the strength to jump, to thrive.
He was taken aback by reality, but the sun still shines on the same fields, warming the same hopes, opening the same rugs in his soul.
There are still the same sounds, the same world outside, the same boundaries to cross.
While spring relentless comes, to make him live once again, toward a burning sunset, into a reflection, a mirror, dwelling in a happiness he still longs for.
Le piano est mort,
l’ancienne loi disparue,
et maintenant que le soleil m’éclair,
l’espoir dans mon coeur va espérer.
Une couple parle et bavarde, en murmurant.
Je bois mon dernier café.
Après, le courant fort de la vie m’emmenera dans ma prison.
Les chaînes piquent ma peau
et mes yeux saignent,
jusqu’à la nuit m’enveloppera,
dans un ciel où il n’y a plus des étoiles.
On the second day the curtain is closed on the black stage,
as the main character sits in the front row, waiting for its time to catch the audience.
The light fades out,
While shivers crawl down my spine and I wait for the ending of this war, lulled by the trembling sound of a blurring piano in the cool and clear winter sky hanging on the Big Square.
People are murmuring as I isolate myself. I should walk in the gloomy light of the ancient architectures, down till the crowd melts away.
I won’t never be on time, as the Great Gig in the Sky crashes my thought in a crystalline view of perfection.
Aaah AAAH WAAAAH WAAHWAAAH WAAAoooh.
She sings, as the curtain closes on this stage.
Here, where my heart lingers.