Filed under: writings | Tags: anyway, calling, crowd, gaze, gone, long, malice, March, now, offended, on, over, poem, poetry, rhythm, right, rolling, said, time, transaction, with, worlds, writing, writings
Let’s get the stone rolling,
Let’s get it over and done with.
It’s just the pain calling,
When nothing’s turning out right.
Break a well learned transaction,
And hold it out to the crowd.
Well, let’s get offended,
Over something that was said.
Stop the steady flow of malice,
And pile on the accusatory gaze.
We’re too far gone from the truth anyway,
And the road to recovery is way too long.
The drum rolls on,
Strumming the sounds of a summer gone.
But the time still march to its rhythm.
And we can’t have the best of both worlds.
It may just be too late now.
After all this time,
It may just be too soon before it’s over.
Filed under: writings | Tags: collide, collision, communication, crowd, despair, fall, figures, page, participant, poem, poetry, respond, say, silence, source, thicker, timing, trail, writing, writings
Push through the crowd,
Search for a moment of silence.
Well let’s be lazy about it,
Sit and wait for the rain to fall.
The crowd gets thicker,
But let’s rejoice at the source.
Find the perfect timing,
Then leap off the guarded page.
Collide with every participant,
And paint a trail of despair.
A connection through the collision.
The fundamental means of communication.
But what would your mama say?
How will she respond?
When you’ve exhausted all the numbers and figures.
As you fly blankly through a mapless trail,
With nothing but a collision to break your fall.
Filed under: writings | Tags: and, aren't, commencé, erreurs, error, essais, et, french, glad, Harris, J'ai survécu, l'instabilité, moi, plaisir, trial, you
N’êtes-vous pas heureux que vous n’avez pas rester avec moi
Vie de bohème et de l’instabilité
vous avez pris votre amour loin de moi
Nuits sans fin, les amoureux, les amis et le plaisir
grandes lumières de la ville, votre nouvelle vie a commencé
Vous êtes allé à votre façon. J’ai survécu
Et avez-vous déjà vu tout à l’intérieur de moi?
a emprunté les mots de Russell Harris
Je ne sais pas le français, s’il vous plaît pardonnez-moi
Filed under: writings | Tags: all, birth, de, foe, happiness, hearts, history, la, life, mid, needles, night, philosophie, philosophy, philosopies, poem, poetry, something, vie, wall, writing
Life is tiny pockets of happiness.
Balanced on a sea of needles.
The mid-night return of a mysterious stranger.
The signs as streaks of illumination on the dark dull wall.
Three lines to make history,
Three words to conquer the hearts,
Three breaths to the start of something.
You’re not so like me after all.
