La langue qui claque, Lady Luck [most popular ebook readers .TXT] 📗

WINTER
when the cold bit my ankle
i knew it was, i knew it would
howl later, grunt deeper, watch me when I sleep.
I forgot the stars sparkle
Too late now, i knew it would
come closer, grow thicker, freeze the tears I weep.

Oh the plains, oh the sky,
oh the moors, oh the cry
of the wood that now crackles in the fireplace
oh the wind, oh the slap,
oh my fate, oh the night
when just one breath is a choke on my drying face

and when the air bit my wrist
I knew it was, I knew it would
clutch its teeth, hold its pace, watch me when I walk.
Couldn't feel my fingertips
Is it fine? I knew it would
wash away, paint it white, clog the words I talk.

oh it's vain, why complain
of the sky, of the land
of the wood that now crackles in the fireplace
close the doors, hide it well
and recount the magic spell
learn the sighs and the moans of a pale embrace.

COPENHAGEN

As if I want to write in awe.
In lack of you, of nothing, not even the hand, not even
something you are willing to give out.
I won't stand as a beggar by your side,
yet this is as best as it can be, better than a shadow, or a ghost - what I truly am.
The stone hearted lady.
Will you see or feel or crave to touch
the silk of my skin the burnt flesh of sin?
At night I bite my forearm so bad it bleeds
it splashes on the sheets and in the morning
I don't wash them, they remain, the stains.
In the day, I shower and walk and talk
to strangers and familiar faces
And I speak of books and about the future
of the land, of the neighbours upstairs
you know, and then the people they believe
they think that I like tomatoes and potatoes
and music and all the strings attached
of a person when I am a shadow a ghost,
a beggar lingering and graping your elbow
will you listen to me and watch my eyebrows
frowning? But then you shrug and turn
to the bright morning light
and the girl on the other side.

PLAIN ABSTRACTIONIST

cries of pain
never redeemed anyone
in the end
i lost my edge
and never felt so fine
in my cage

i try to fight
despise on the barriers
around our home.
my ghost struts on the barricades,
the knight groans
I drown in city foam

tears and rain
never washed down anything
in the end
i suck my rage
try to collect my broken spine
in my cage.

comprehend and sympathize
far away i throw my disguise
and as my fingers turn to fist
i am a plain abstractionist

FUNERAL

all the mourners were looking
down at their feet
muddy and wet and dripping
with pain and grief
on a sunday he'd fallen
for her, afraid
he had carefully hidden
his love, too late
one'd call on fate
to face the moan
she's gone

the mother's shoulder
was covered with thick
dark piece of fabric
he kind of felt sick
he shrugged the guests - unidentified -
as the priest passed by
on a sunday some time ago
he fell head over feet
he wept his eyes and had to
throw the earth on dust to dust
- you know

sweet hereafters,
tomorrows parties
sleeping in the corner
drowning in the mist
he might chase her ghost
the forthcoming nights
the absence and cold
in his gaze, aghast
for now it is too late
one'd call on fate
to face the bitter taste
she's dead

UNTITLED

ogh and i felt the strength speeding out my body it was trying to find the exit sign
written in blood probably
it was rushing and i never ever
ever noticed before
i had a secret backdoor for escape
for strangers to elope and finally getting married straight to
holy matrimony
away from me like
strength and pride, that kind of things
might be happy and fulfilled and trusting each other now
like two misty bitches
so
as i was saying
the cloud felt cold and the knees stumbled every second
oh count it backwards
backwards
down
i fainted i think for a second or two no one saw i was still standing in the waiting room
all white its a hospital
wing
after all
wing will you carry his body? somewhere far, somewhere cloudy
will you?
and the tomb will be empty but thats what its bound to become
you knbow you cannot fill a tomb with memories and love
no matter where your beliefs lead you
and i don't even have the rage to keep me company and i don't even have self pity
it becomes unselfish
how scary
lie down lie down lie down lie down
and itll be fine
greasing the path it was a nice gesture from anyone who did
and i whall be thankful for creating such a slippery way for my own
redemption
who thougt itll come in the end throughout music
i feel like stomping did you ever feel
like stomping over nothing cause the floor would have cracked ages ago
and the countryside is so peaceful far from the mobiles chirrping
and the waves that make my teeth tremble and shake
i told you the strange microwave story my sister warming her coffee up earrrrrrrrly
in the morning and me a floor up threatened toothless awakening
how frightening
so my elder died and the kings mourned and its fine and okay
and my dad saw him pass away and he won't find comfort
any time soon.

VENU-ER

just a quickie
what are you really?
I'm a venu-er
I'm going there and sweating and I can imagine
the most beautiful sight we're offering
It tears me apart to be a part
of this thing
I'm a venu-er, a registered member
of the mob that's piling itself up
until the scene is cracking
I'm cherishing every single punch
pinch squeeze of every single part
of my body and the singles to shout
and sing.
I'm a venu-er
And the heat is my religion
and turning deaf my only option
it has been printed somewhere
that venu-ing was my salvation.

UNTITLED

cry i'm unpaid and suspected to underestimate the everyday effort
the struggle
cry i'm unfaithful and abandoned in the daytime
never surprised to be done
and for those who had the soft voice
they whispered and lived miserable ants
what happened to them? if you need a recollection
a reminder
then i might mention a tree a gun a bullet a shotgun
among spilled pills and broken glass
in case you still wonder
theres nothing i can do
cry i'm unrest and sitting here and waiting
for time to tick as if
it would finally come up and take me away.
troubled troubled down
deep
bleep
bleed
games of things behind the sun


in the absence of parties and penthouses and champagnes
on saturdays what are the youth supposed to waste
as for as far as i'm concerned
i can be deeply scorned i ruined health despise wealth but aspire to reach it
now every day
on a harsh pretention acting of being someone else
and i'm confused when no loved one shows
up and declaims an attraction and when the lovely lovables are erasing my face
hiding it in the sand can't they get the picture yet?
I'm fragile in spite of the thick arms and back
I'm fragile even though I never cry
I'm fragile from chrissake noone sees what's at stakes
when there pushing their elbows deep in my ribs
it sounds like a litte thom this clap your hands say yeah
i don't miss new york i know it is too clean
i know all the illusions they're building they make us dream us
the high towers and the freedom it s always the same story
the poetry and the portraits
but it's not working
bleed deep bleep answerphone machine

UNTITLED

I've ruined the spectrum of a possible encounter
do you want to hear the whole process
I started with a pinch of scorn it's safer
in order to take down the bridges with excessive
enthusiasm.
brick by brick and drop by drop, water and stone will sure elope
you should not fright
to be fickle
the smile won't let the frown win
the battle.
The mailing list was extensive and I received the adds and bills
one could not touch, one could not think
that all for real was in the pipeline
outrageous and out of reach expensive sorrows
are not written nor carved just dialed and
it's fine
they're fueled and propelled out
you should not fright to ask
the smile won't let the frown take up
the mask.
I ruined it all and this I knew
as soon as I reached the keyboards all variously designed
when I typed the letters in bold
and underlined the style and the body of words
swamped.
It rose slowly this afternoon though clouds did hide the moon
mark a bench there you go
a white stone, a small rock on the way
as I sway,
I swell and fall empty barrel of the gun
the smoking powder and the scent on my fingers
lifted and evaporated
like this
when a dialed quickly typed bleep emerged
tired eyes read and I knew
never
never you would be holding my hand.

CHILDHOOD

On the blue corner there lies the lying loser of my dream
Of last night
In the dark dull sewer creeps the injured soldier of the scheme
Of my life
The woodpeckers beaks could hammer forever in the realms
Of my sky
And his voice will constantly stammer through the layers
of my mind

N-n-n-nay no Nay he says like a child,
a school boy playing at the back of the yard
With the chalk, the hopscotch and his new top notch shoes
Fetching what’s matching with my howling abuse.
A leaf, A piece of cake
As if he didn’t take
...
A while a pause to steal
The thief made no mistake

He squeezed as I once had said
tightened down his pocket
The light balancing wrist
The swinging smile, the ankle twist
The long gone afternoon of dead wild beasts
Their memories all clenched to my fists

UNTITLED
the father has drunk way too much
one more night
earlier she had the familiar hunch
when it was light

and it could not prevent her
from thinking of him
what happened the night before
when the soil was clean?
cannot remember
cannot find out
the sight is bitter
and the voice has blown out
eardrums so sore and torn apart


the mother was crying in the kitchen
in the morning
its time to leave, the secret's hidden
for one sad thing

even with that she could not help
to think of him over again
when he didn't loosen his grip
almost tatooed his fingertips
around her waist
around her neck
the sight's bitter
and voice's gone down
her ears can't hear the softest sound

IT"S A WALL
So when is it you want to write me something
when is it again that we sit on the