Lost at sea 

‘Winter, 2010’

I don’t know what the hell 

Women want from men, 

You could fuck her brains out 

Then leave her to grown up 

And she wouldn’t be satisfied. 

You could give her your heart 

Love her like only a broken can 

And she wouldn’t be satisfied. 

I may be such a psychopath 

Writing this verses so sad, 

That even dead Christmas trees 

Wouldn’t cry as much as for thee. 

I may not feel anything 

I’ve never wanted a thing, 

I may give you my entirety 

My crashed soul and my poetry 

But you’ll never know me

Although what I may give. 

Cause there’s a great emptiness 

That lives in the surface of every cell 

That composes my decomposed being, 

And I really never learnt 

How to deal with this paint 

I keep swallowing for my need 

Of writing about this pain 

That never leaves my hand. 

You probably love my eyes 

Cause they’re blue like the sky, 

But you know nothing about the darkness 

That keeps emerging from them. 

I am like a abandoned little lost ship 

Drowning even knowing how to swim

Begging life for just a recess 

Lighting new cigarettes,

It sure was a beautiful fight 

But it’s time for this cold heart. 

Playing with vices 

I leave my home 

And I jump to my death, 

I go far from your 

Eyes as I repeat the play. 

Always wondering too much 

Never knowing what I want,

I think I’m meant to be lonely 

I feel love right now in its bigger 

State, but I still push you further. 

I’ve never thought I could love 

So when you came into my home,

I broke my neck as I looked to the moon 

Whispering poems about my lost faith;

And then you came

Claiming your place. 

Is the moon big enough for both of us? 

Are you really truthful in your path? 

I drink from my whiskey 

As you sip your wine,

We look at the stars 

As the night began, 

I drown in smoke

As you feel left off. 

Don’t fall for me 

As I’m someone to leave, 

Don’t look into my eyes 

And tell me little lies 

Cause those are the ones 

I consider to be too much. 

Don’t leave me

In this miserable living, 

I’m giving everything 

Just to keep it going. 

No one will love you like I do 

Cause I’m too broke for you;

The constellations keep shining 

Even after a sad ending. 

Conversation with a broken lady #21

‘Penses tu que l’art soit ‘bon’ pour notre santé ?’ elle murmura un âpre dimanche hivernal, ‘dessiner à toujours été ma seule source d’évasion, sans elle je me sentirai perdue, l’angoisse me remonterait aux entrailles, je serai un complexe paradoxe sans solution. Mais au même temps, l’art peut-être une des causes principales de ma dépression. Pénétre mon âme et envahi mon esprit, représente le noir en moi et le blanc de l’oubli.’ 

‘Tu sais la beauté de l’art ‘, lui dis-je refermant ma couverture, ‘se trouve dans sa complexité. L’ art n’est rien de plus simple que la vie ou la mort. L’art c’est de la philosophie, de l’anatomie, des sciences et des émotions. On ne peut jamais réussir dans l’art, car il n’est pas parfait comme l’on semble vouloir le démontrer; tout comme notre vie ne l’es plus. Mais quand tu prend ton crayon ou tu prends une photo, tu es entrain de capturer un instant, ton âme a réussi à communiquer avec les sensibles notes artistiques qui se baladent entre nous et créer quelque chose de unique, un mélange de toi et le monde autour. Pour un instant tu possèdes et contrôles un instant complet. Donc ta question devrait plutôt être : la vie est-elle “bonne” pour notre santé ?’

Lighthouses and flowers 

I am sitting here on the balcony 

Reading some old weird man poetry 

Jiggling the joint over my lips 

Making my breath go green. 

You’re coming out the shower 

Your body smelling like flowers, 

Tulips painted in brown 

My mind spinning around. 

You’re so beautiful without make up

I feel your soul coming out of your mouth, 

As you approach to kiss me 

And with poison feed me. 

I look at you and the stars 

Give us enough nightlight 

To compress our worries 

Between these moments. 

I love your brown eyes 

And your childish smile, 

I love to feel your body 

As we dance some blurry 

Old motion cold blues 

That takes our shoes

As we undress the disguise 

We both liked to wear so much. 

We’re kind of hungry 

So we go for ice cream, 

Sitting in front of the gigantic 

Beach that goes into the Atlantic

We sat like little children 

Wishing for amusement. 

We talked in bed 

About truth and Death, 

About dreams and fears, 

Our souls shedding tears. 

We walk by the hand 

Just feeling alive, 

So little under the sky 

Of our incertain path.

Now I still sit on a balcony

This time writing bad poetry 

These days I am all alone 

Thinking about how time comes

And how I wish you were attending 

A sit in this miserable lecturing. 

The beauty in the blame 

There’s this great fear I have 

That I swore to myself 

It’d never be told 

And here I am right now

Looking myself in your eyes 

Feeling my soul entering yours

From every cell of my brain 

Leaking faithfully every word. 

Every great love 

With an even bigger pain they come,

But as I see you turn around 

Whenever we have to say goodbye, 

I know it’s worth it. 

So let me try dear 

To neglect this fear, 

And try to love 

And accept yours. 

Let me tell the truth 

And feel all your pain, 

I wanna make art 

Right out your arms, 

Watch the stars 

Right through your eyes,

Make you forget 

Who you never were. 

You make me feel safe

Like an special alien, 

You give me strength 

To fight my miserable talent.

So if you say I’m going too far, 

And the truth is I’ve lost my mind,

I don’t care either way 

You should know you have the blame 

Of making a better man 

Out of a fucked up depressive jerk.