The girl at the train station

It was pretty late
In the evening
Or may be early morning
I was back
From a smoking night
Alcohol poisoning
And there I stood
Waiting the freakin’ train
She was a beauty
But the kind that’s hidden
She was waiting for another train
I realized I still had a joint
From last night’s stand
So I jumped into the rails
I must had broken my head
Cause there was kind of a bleeding
Invading my dark hair
So I continued my mission
And I went all the way to her
I asked her for a lighter
And she got me some matches
That’s the best way to light a joint.. ‘
I don’t remember much
Must be the green grass
Or maybe the headache
But we talked
around a smoke
About poetry and love
About life and false-hopes
She knew about Bukowski, Thoreau, Henson and more
I could feel her soul
Coming out of her chest
With every word
Her lips waved
We made love
With words
All this mixture
As she bent
The orgasm of all forgotten literature
Had lieu in that station bench.
And I remember
Watching her body fade
As the joint
over the ground
Kind of unfinished



Nostalgie enfantine

Je marchait dans les rues de parisiennes
Avec un joint sur mes détruites lèvres
Quand j’apperçu un jeune enfant
D’entre huit et dix ans.
Le regard sur son visage enfantin
Tout mon être transporta
Dans un monde d’innocence,
De prise de conscience.
J’ai senti les années passer
Devant moi comme un carrousel
J’ai senti la présence d’un manque,
Un manque de confiance.
La confiance que je possédait
Quand le visage rempli de glace,
Sans me soucier des gens qui traînaient,
Embrassant l’enfantine grâce.
Son regard vidé de mal
Perdu dans l’espace
Me fit penser au mien
Maintenant vide d’espoir,
Et je tira une nouvelle late.
La fumée me fit réfléchir
Sur le rythme de ma vie
Depuis mon enfance blanchi
Toujours à la dérive.
Je suis perdu dans le mal
La guerre, les hommes, et les femmes;
Je voit des horreurs chaque matin
Et tout semble m’achever
Dans ce monde si cruel.
Mais le regard de cet enfant
Me donna un nouveau espoir
Et entre toute la fumée
J’ai su une fois de plus renaître.


Jackie boy

Oh Jackie boy
Show me how to live
Making it worth to breath.
I am a succession
Of small victories
And big defeats.
Show me the way
To completely forget her,
My queries, please, erase
Make them fade away.
Oh, Jackie boy
Show me the door
To a different world,
Like in my childhood dawns.
Light my cigarette
And make a wish
Maybe tomorrow
That world will exist.
All these nights we’ve been through
Filled with poison words
And fakes smiles,
‘This coffee smells so bad’,
‘I just want it to die.’
Jackie boy, Jackie boy,
Fill my drink
Make me think
About something less ill,
Let her out of my world,
And, please, make this rhyme
To her name be the last.