Memories of your heartening smiles
You are an Angel of America across the screen
Of voyages. I’ve pinned your words
Papers and thoughts of the utmost kindness
On the window of my soul, of a one-of-a kind gentleness.

I remember your office and that smell of Christmas cookies
Permeating the air. In the middle of March, silly senses
I believe meeting you was like stopping
In the middle of a mythical glade, embracing a wild wholeness
Your voice, like Virgil’s through this dismembered (s)hell, second circle
Guided me.

Last night, under the canopy of Zeus as Taurus, beloved
Europe, I let my guard down and Orpheus handed me to Morpheus
You were here, alone in a bare room, I joined you, I just knew
It was you.
You wore a tight grey shirt and I put my head on your lap
Relief of the dream state
Queer, good, silent, compassionate.

In that dream, drained, dreary, I desperately donned your tenderness
Raiment of an enlightened being, soothing.
When I woke up with this odd sensation of well-being
I just knew, it couldn’t be otherwise
That I had seen you, your keen, wise
Eyes
And I arose anew
I just knew
It was you.

June 28, 2017
5:08 pm
Lyon

To Aaron,

Send me along the lines of the freeway
Where there’s a light to get away.

I am no runaway lover…
No, no runaway lover…

Running like a bat out of hell
For you, for you I fell
Running out of your heaven
An emptiness, now a burden.

Send me along the lines of the freeway
Where there’s no signs to get away.

Southern California tune
Moon above our dune
My mind mumbles
My memory rumbles
Rambles, rambles…

We paid a dire dime
To a countless time
Don’t nickel and dime me!
Deep inside, inside of me

I  ran out of your heaven
Running like a bat out of hell
But for your heaven I sure fell
What felt like a blessing is now a burden !

So I’m your runaway lover
Your restless runaway lover
Send me away, send me away
Along the lines of the freeway !

Where there should be
For you and for me
Another runaway
To get away!

Send me along the lines of the freeway
Where there’s a light to get away!


August 1st, 2015
Chambéry

You came up to me
It was dark, under the trees
The squirrels were all gone
The  moon  timidly shone
Your hand from my hips
I didn’t push away
You came up to see
If you could kiss my lips
You did
And my clothes– later
You undid
And you were after
My love

Our bodies might
Want to see this slant
Of light in the loneliest night
But I simply can’t
Let you have it
Just because we feel
Simply because well, we… feel like it
We are humans, we’re real
Creatures of desire
We burn, but the bits of this fire
Don’t whisper we should say
Yes, at the end of the day
To anyone coming up to sell

Their passion or frustration
To you. This time, is their beauty
Say, human, pray tell
Enough for you to give them the mirage
Or the image
Of your eternity?
His flesh despised reason
Mine recoiled in horror
And my mind in this season
Saw with an indicible terror
That should my self give in to pleasure
I should at least make sure
That this desire driving me
Is nothing but… my nemesis, my enemy!


September 15, 2015
Villeurbanne

Drink up, chug it all down
You know what you've done downtown
Gangster, you're gonna be on the road again
Say, are you ready to roll out?
Ready to burn rubber, flat - out?

With your Road Dog through this fog!

Keep the shiny side on
Come on, bring it on
Drink up, drink it all down
Until your hides become a crown!

With your Road Dog, you're a night hog!

No one's going to tell you ''stick 'em up!’' anymore
Give them the *******, say nevermore
Watch out! There's that Tijuana taxi tailgating
If you were in the mood, you'd even do some wheeling!

But before, you were just standing there, jacking off
You knew you'd bump her off
Because that ***** cheated on you, right?
You've grown tired to forgive or fight.

Tears descending down your ******-up face
Death's on your heels, better boost those wheels
Now is the time for your ultimate race
The hunter becomes the hunted, so keep pace

With your Road Dog, don't fly off the handle
You guys were just too much of a bundle
You're better off without that broad, but hell,
Remember those eyes for which you fell?

Your de-***** bride, your adorable dove
She begged, on her knees, ''Tell me you mean me no harm...''
But you used on her your Saturday night special charm...
And in no way did that mean love.

You've dealt with your babesicle
And hit the road, with your motorcycle…

March 3,2014 Lyon, France, at the bar “des Fleurs du Malt”

My hand is grazed by thin scattered bits of a flask
As my skin is kissed by the cursed flow of the ether
The red line of the sliced vein melts with the ember
Of the cruel poison if you put down your mask.

The perfume descends down my warm palms
Engraving on it its lethal bite,
My mind reaches a new height
As my soul screams in spams.

Collapsing in a gasp of air, in a long gauzy gown
Creased like a shroud to welcome a body at auction sold
Like a flower-shaped corolla poured out against some gold.

At the temple of agony, convulsing painfully
In the sacred desire of her mortal folly
Corrupted creature, ***** in her Dream
And of her life stops the stream.

Freshman, College of Humanities. Joffre, Montpellier. Translated on May, 9, 2014.

Tender was my night.

Oh, you don't know how bitter is the night
My shabby dreams are throttling me like a bight
If only you would have kept your feelings under control
It would have prevented you from treating me like a rag doll.

Thus, your love is silence.

You said I shall forget your memories.
Pretending you were just some other fancies
For sure, there is plenty of fish in the sea,
However, you were by far my wonderful and beloved lea.

Thus, your name is silence.

Oh, you don't know how bitter is the night
When the sunset is settled, against you I must struggle and fight
If only you would have not pressed your burning lips on mine
It would have prevented me from quivering from my soul to my spine

Thus, your touch is silence.

Oh, you don't know how bitter is the night
Even if inside the soil of your darkness has sprouted my light
If only you would not have taken my feelings for an illusion
It would have prevented you from sinking me into this delusion.

Thus, your kiss is silence.

You said I shall forget your memories.
Pretending you were just some other fancies
For sure, there is plenty of fish in the sea,
However, you were by far my wonderful and beloved lea.

Oh, you will never know how bitter is my night

Thus, the rest is silence.

January, 4 2013.

That handsome guy in the club.


Hey baby, come along, c'mon here, closer
I'm quite experienced, but I'm no womanizer
I want to feel your body burning under this halter
Hey, now the atmosphere is like sweater weather

Sweater weather baby, have you heard about this before
If we start that round, I'm sure you'll beg me for more
I'm gonna love you and make your body levitate
Now baby, c'mon here closer, don't hesitate

Worship me as your god, and I'll say you're my girl
Let's turn and dance and curl up and twirl
I promise my kisses are nothing like you've felt before
Oh yeah, I tell you baby, you're gonna beg me for more

Hey, let me buy you a drink, it's on me
If you're from Arizona or Paris I don't care
I'm gonna make you mine if coming closer you dare
Hey, gorgeous, I love you, you're a beauty

Worship me as your god, and I'll say you're my girl
Let's turn and dance and curl up and twirl
I promise my kisses are nothing like you've felt before
Oh yeah, I tell you baby, you're gonna beg me for more

Now we're leaving the club, and you're laughing
Oh baby, it's gonna be such a hot evening.

Jan,18,2014

I’m on California 101
The highway
Taking you away
Are you lost ?
We say 101 at most
In the American West

“One-o-one’’
One no one
One, oh one

I fire the only firearm
That disarms you
My denim by Levi’s
501
On California 101

Blue as the sky of my vice
Hip-hugs my skin we drive
The Pacific and its yellow lines unwind
As slowly as the wind
We drive 101’s log jam
Listening to Pearl Jam

I’m Bonnie, my guy’s Clyde
And I gotta tell Elvis
The weather here is a bliss
Elvis, did you wear that hip-hugging Levi’s ?
My road trip essential nice vice?

We drive, high gear overdrive
To San Diego’s beaches and lagoon
To Los Angeles, you funny gowned goon
To San Francisco, everything there is eclectic
California, your State’s electricity is static

“One-o-one’’
One no one
One, oh one

Road trippin’ with my denim by Levi’s
501
On California 101
Are you lost ?
We say 101 at most
In the American West

We’re on Pacific Coast
Highway we followed along the Coast
To the Bay Bridge and the port
Of San Francisco, maritime city
An exceptional city that rules
Exception to the rule
We go country in the Bald Eagle’s county

“One-o-one’’
One no one
One, oh one

Get your denim by Levi’s
501
On California 101
Are you lost ?
We say 101 at most
In the American West!

May 1, 2015
University of California, Riverside.

Marble, you no longer move
In their agile and skimpy arms
Under torrents of fire and hail
The majestic sinuous trees
Try to grapple your rose’s stalk
That of your body, inert, alone, morose
Those dark trees standing for the branches of my desire
Roughed up over and over again by a storm of passions

On the subdued soil of time through the wind
Like a veiled corpse living on a divan
Your kisses wither, blank of existence
Perfect bunch of flowers fit for an effigy
A statue erected by our violent patience
A bunch for sure, fit for nothing but a somber elegy
Facing death! A visage turned over to redeem.
Your body, lacking our decors’ agreement pours out

The blood of sacred love, the ideal love of the idea
That you held so close, so near, traced on the thinned out curves
Of my caresses, of my distresses, of my hips
You neither no longer are nor I am but a chanted fallen angel
Without you I can’t be, should I slay the Occident of your name
Of the moving geography of my fleshy map, my Orient
Between us, a mocking distance overhanging and weighting in the chasm
Of this Ocean shaped abyss, Mayday my soul! No!

Your absence is my grave, despite it being decked with flowers
What sort of beauty one should expect from a perfumed essence-less flower?

Translated on November 4, 2015

The Lemur is enthroned on the heights of an island
In a luxurious villa, complete with a sauna and a pool
The Dormouse holds, modestly, a small pharmacy
Where people can buy necklaces, gemstones and pretty threads.

Every Monday morning the lemur fixes
His hair with a delicate ivory comb
Asks about the stock market in overflow
Swallowing a pure white powder in a row

His orange eyes threaten to explode
So he sits down, eats lobster and sated,
He doesn’t have a care in the world as descends the evening
His paw resting on a black jade cane stolen from the dormouse

Monday morning, the lemur, operational
Goes fast, pick and pickaxe at the mine
Extracting, sweaty, some beautiful spinel specimens
Hoping that one day at the Lemurian’s he would dine

For a trifle, the latter bought him
His most beautiful crystals and this without paying taxes
He became the leader of the island thanks to his kinsmen
The exotic animals knew something was wrong…

His only friends were the rich and the bohos
Under the yoke of this monkey, the island was a hellhole
Their chef was addicted to coconut powder
Whoever dared to say it was put in irons

When finally, an evening he overdosed
Nobody buried him among his friends
The Dormouse humbly undertook to do so
At the hole where he dug, he found a stone

The moral of the fable, listen to it then,
Who shows compassion exists with reason
Do not judge too fast, because we're leaving too early
Nature often rewards us in her own way.

September 11, 2019
Nancy, translated on November 17, 2019

This poem was written to describe/honor a boat-shaped wooden sculpture on which a town was built.

Here’s humanity chucked on that tub
Figure the fuss in the ship’s hold
Roaming ‘round the deck, helm is hell for holding
How come that outland ship ain’t capsizing?

They ****** up their toll of ****** *****
Thrown out, left behind, they’re coping with that schism
Roving ‘round Ocean blue between two small isthmus
Grinning like they used to ain’t gonna be easy fun.

Here’s humanity beating it to starboard
If they had behaved themselves, possibly
God  almighty wouldn’t have batted an eye
Zealous lots in exile on that ****** city-boat

They built up  walls ‘gainst their bitter heartbreaks
Alleys, their homes and even small gardens
On a boat! Oh my, isn’t that tub gonna sink?
The wind-facing prow is a freakin’ chimera!

Such a craft is like a merry-go-round
You feelin’ sea-sick ? Looks like a hiccup!
It’s not rocket science, maybe a bit pitchin’
Here’s these talented convicts’ last resort!

Translated from the original version in French, July 19, 2018, Oullins. Appoline

Like a line love
Tethers my threshold
Poetry can’t catch hold
Of what we cannot solve

I chase, take down the thought
So that someday you ought
To see without the veil
Towards where I can’t sail

Is love a leeching spell
That bloodthirsty, pray tell?

December 11, 2015
While recording a song
Lyon, rue Juiverie

For Cathy and Marc,



The orchid wakes up to the rising Sun
And the aster shines on her his purest lights
She asks, with her blinding smile
“Say, am I the prettiest among flowers?”

And she opens up to him with her light veil
Whose diamond-like reflections are seen on this nuptial cloth
On her wet petals, the dew still falls down
Their hearts are linked, fusional like gold…

The Sun’s enflamed sight desires her
Singing a sweet lullaby to her ears
His honey-like chant reaches her
Empowered, she intensely charms him…

And the beloved dear feels a burning stream
Burning her like a radiating ray
The Earth witnesses in a new gleam of a morning
Two creatures of passion, in the wind, kissing…

To please them, a party is organized
To their wedding, everyone must be around them
They made sure to look sharp taking part
Happy witnesses, so in Love they can depart!

To you, listeners of this ode to life
Did you get the meaning of my rime?
The Flower incarnates the beautiful bride
And the Sun, her groom, his pride!

Translated on August 24 2015
1st place, Arthur Rimbaud prize, “Jeux Floraux du Béarn” (French poetry contest), 2009

Black, tamed, tanned fleshes
Backs that have bent under the lashes
White, knocked, stripped bodies
Souls that have cried under the follies.

Here they are, numbed and weak
Here they are, abused and bleak
Here they are, numbed and wicked
Here they are, afraid and naked.

Broken, divided, lost knowledge
Minds that were pushed towards the edge
Bullied, bucketed, libel laws
Bones that were eaten by jackdaws.

Here they are, tortured and whipped
Here they are, tainted and with, wrestled
Here they are, gagged and secluded
Here they are, gunned and, for, settled.

Where are you, mockers and dealers
Horrid hearts who have robbed the beggars?
Bullied, bucketed, libel laws
Bones who were envied by the caws.

Here they are, accusers and lawyers
Here they are, robbers and buyers
So let me ask you a question,
Where are we in this garrison?


March 23, 2013

To my Mom,




Folded amid the pleat of your pleading phalanx
The polished stones perspire against the liquid
Metal. Pleasing among ladies the most placid
Alas the precious possessing them does not mix,

With the muzzled and mild-mannered muted muses
Or with mischievous ones pummeling the world’s walls
Grumbling in their baleful and poisonous houses
Masters of the sapphire which in their hands falls.

And binding the blessed garland along the long line
Of your blinding blazing gorgeous blond golden hair
I thus hope it is to you a fine and a fair,

Sign of a love whose ripeness has just bloomed like wine
This gift could be detailed the echo of a dart
That is, in this sole spring repeated by my heart.

Lyon, May 23, 2014

The hidden rite

The labradorite scaled skin glistens
Full of cyan as well as cyanide
Fantastic fish it finds the stream
In the crease of the cliff to hide.
On one hand it meets the core
Of nature. It is telluric till the end
The labradorite kisses the lore
On the other hand, a legend.
The slippery fish follows, swerving
The selfish body of water
Displaced, it becomes sensual
Yet it’s just a fish as usual.


November 12, 2016
Lyon

The mountain surrounds a limpid lake
Of a calm and captive silver-green
Like the waist of the wedded, a sylph
A besotted body, light, loved by the wind like the yew
Where are you escaping to, peaceful flow
In your fertile floor above which there is plenty of lives?
To the point of triggering the blue sea’s breeze jealousy
You hold, silent, Lamartine’s soul
He described you, lake, time’s metaphor
On your shiny waters, necklace of photophore
The sun beholds you, skimming your sides
Like the poet’s quill, your white bird.

What did he see in his prophetic century
Hurt by a soft and painful romanticism?
Holding you in his arm, his altar, in love with
Your richness, your serenity that the poet
Afflicted by time couldn’t feel
Save for his apostrophe, his eternal sigh
To you then, oh lake, the whisper of a scripture
That is known only by you, enigma in literature
Story with the man with words and scars
You contain in your dome, his most beautiful enamels.


Translated on August, 24 2015

For Adrien,




San Francisco is asleep
On the lips a vermillion souvenir
Of an unthought dream yet
Paralyzed from a wound not mended yet
Red iron body in the night
Of two lovers we have observed
Hurt by a somber Beauty…

Two naked children, to Charity’s breast
Born and tortured by a majestic Love
Loving each other, two men as on Humanity’s
Very first day, in the large bedroom America.
In the passion of a bridge their two hands link
That time… Freedom! And tenderness heals
Devoted fingers, divinized with desire…

Trailing down, delicate, along backs, pleasure
Awake and keeping watch in the large bedroom America
Love comes by, patiently, Pacific
Two entangled lovers, male Galateas
Protected in the silver of their gold, protected from decay
Discovering each other, deliciously, in the bedroom America
In a California, stylistic seduction,

You too are dreaming about your bedroom America!

Montpellier, France July 19, 2015
Translated on July 20, 2015
Lyon, France

To my grandma,



Dressed with your antique gold decorations
And your oneiric sets
In a swinging gait, bucolic
You come into view, tall, fabulous

In your museum, my amused
Unveiling the stylized veils
Around marbles, spread
In colors, irised hues

You’re dancing, evolving, fragile
Between Vélázquez and Vergil.
Of the Graces, of Guernica, deft
You know it all, aurora, sybil.

Of your opportune inspiration
I tasted all the delights
Between your eyes and smooth fingers
I’ve seen the masters’ evil spells

But also a pale beauty
We have together moored
On the ocean of eternity
Beside the Arts, carved out of love.

Still reading in your golden voice
Those expert accents of yours out of
Time, your moves back then
A work today, still glistening



To you then this libertine fire
Your impish fingers detain…


September 8, 2015, Lyon
Translated on October 18, 2015

Tender mystery of nature
That I hold in my hand
You, sweet secret so secure
Shiniest charm than the sand
Who would have thought that I
Could cherish the iris of your eye
You are the reason of my dream
And each time you let me in, your stream
Brightens my heart, the effect never wears off
With you the book is never written
In advance, so what are you made of ?
I have cast different spells on you so often
Your soul, so seldom opened has smiled
Your existence elates my enameled essence
Being one light, thence to me your beauty has never lied  
Why are you such an elixir, core of my diligence ?
Each time I drink your words, you recreate my Renaissance
Let me reach you again, we will enter in our trance.  

Will you read my bold words, behind that mild romance ?

November, 2, 2013

Marine stretch of many mysteries
Dome of underwater dreams and miseries
Home of many a shipwrecked ship
Score of a mermaid, the waves her luscious lips
I bathe in the salty swerving swell:
My ocean and sea, I know you all too well.

The Atlantic and the Pacific were adamant lovers
They made my head and body spin
The rolling waves made a tumbleweed of me
On a bed of pebbles, sand and broken shells.

The Aegan was cold but inviting
A pathway of black urchins paving
The way for the deep and intimidating graves
Of many foreigners Greek gods and runaway slaves

I answered the call of the Indian Ocean years ago
A normally peaceful lagoon had a wave hit my thigh
I remember the rising and falling of life wherever I go
I most cases it is, of mindlessness a sigh.

July 17,2017
Onboard a train from Chalon to Lyon

The poet, a butterfly

The butterfly is burdened
By first and foremost its name
Its lithe body bearing that lame
“Flying butter’’! It’s bewildered!

When mocked, the poet creates
Towers of Babel scratching the slates
Of the dark-blue hefty Heavens above
Its urge to spring free it cannot solve:

It’s compelled to flap
Its wings shiny with arcane dust
Over flowers sipping the ***** sap
Yellow and warm like a baked crust!

If you ever touch this creature
Pointing your finger at nature
It will fly away, to never return
Ruthless human, what did you earn?

The powder on your skin from the aerial
Grey and sticky, you’ll dispose off
You can’t write with this material
The veil the insect was so in need of…

Let it be overwhelmed with its gift
This hydromel from the skies high
You cannot grasp all the gist
Of those who breathe and ache to fly!

March 30, 2016
Lyon 2 University

In memory of the victims of the attack on the gay club, Pulse, Orlando, June 12, 2 AM

The Queen’s Lips

The Queen dismounted her silver-haired stag
Her gown glittering with the stars’ twilight
She raised her tears-streaked face to the night
The blazon of her horse displayed a rainbow flag.

Grieving, she walked into the nightclub
Her heart throbbed, and quickened her pulse
She opened her arms and embraced the people
Her people, our people, forced into the stillness of death…
Radiating from her lips, they saw a simple light of hope
The halo filled the hollow holes of their hearts
They rose, victorious, wounded but determined!

As her scream of love perspired in the air
She inspired them, she rebirthed their lair
Dear mother of desire, freedom and pride
Fifty bullets won’t slow your relentless stride!

Your love heals the benighted hate
Despite your beautiful body, marred with fifty bullets!

Appoline
June 15, 2016
Lyon

The ultimate ecstasy
Smart soul, such flirting figure,
Shunning their staunch yet sly lame,
Shielding their stout sin secure,
Stunning snake, flickering flame,

Goddess of the greediest guts,
The ram rears before your ray,
The men moan, and hear their ruts,
They surrender if you say:

''Covet me, corrupted cores''
You tie them to your jetty,
Sending them at your soft shores,
They are caught, clasped and petty.

Your power paralyzes,
Heals from all the illnesses,
As it damns the strongest might,
Wait ,is your womb worth the wright ?

Vile Venus' voice, vulture !
Arcane angel, oracle,
Stop rising the sepulture
Of your victims, fool focal !

Your love has a foul fragrance,
I won't submit to your trance!
Poor, obsolete absolute,
You are now using a flute

On your bounded bared bodies,
Enjoying the energies
Flowing from their feeble blood.
Bathing in this fetish flood :

You are aroused, Addiction,
And as they all are in awe
On them you then  pour your woe
Your awful absolution...

Smart soul, such flirting figure,
Shunning their staunch yet sly lame.
Shielding their stout sin secure.
Stunning snake, flickering flame.

Wether a drug, or a well
Of the finest *****,
Wether a mirage, a dell
Deadliest equilibrium

You will lurk,  and surely lure
In the dark, yes you will mure
Anyone tempted by this
Ecstasy and emphasis.

''Her name is Euphoria''
Her youth an Utopia.''
Thus, supposedly nowhere.
In fact, concealed everywhere!
The grievous allegory
Agape and agony
Faith as well as felony
The ultimate ecstasy.

April 21, 2013

Despite the years, I still remember
The fruit of my desire I could not slay
Her delicious flesh, the reason of my vice
Her exquisite perfume, amidst some irirses.

Our nighttimes garden was her palace
Clad in her autumnal ablaze dress
An empress. I myself was her minion
In  an awful convulsion… I kissed her

Soon biting her, tearing her skin, my beauty
Avidly and ruthlessly I drained her
Screaming her name, mutinous, “Clementine!’’

As the star shot across the sky, I was long gone
And she fell, under the veil of a sad evening
A crow clawed at her then, in his mansion.


Translated on November 13, 2015
Villeurbanne

They surveyed my every mood
They established surveillance
Harshly punished defiance
Had me locked up, well, for good

They forged ideas in my mind
Had me believe I was blind
Shaped me into a pariah
Repeated they were the Messiah

Repeated for hours on end
A virus had plagued the cell
To this litany without end
No one was safe, they could tell

Words echoed into my room
We were either set for doom
Or grateful to be rescued
By their remedy, they cooed

My every step was measured
Some rebelled, they were injured
One mile is all we had left
To run and not go bereft

While the media explained
The pandemic knew no end
They monitored our thinking
A ceaseless, clueless talking

If you believed me to be
Some prisoner in a facility
Well, I am very sorry
I am just, like you and me,

A human being in 2020...

11:23-11:40 pm
Nancy

As his hand held the horn
Advancing in the flow
Guided by the gold glow
The scent of a black thorn
Caught his courageous core.
Bravely, his blade he bore
The callous cave calling
The evil and lurking
Mischievous monster
The mourning, mad mother
Of the deceased Grendel.
The ghost of the rebel
Haunting the silent rocks
Bones, brides, breeches, in blocks.

And his hand held the hilt
For no demon will spilt
His burning and blessed blood.
Blue and bright was the sweep
His body sinking deep
In this felonious flood.
He shuddered as he shone
“ Look, I could light your lone”
What a wielder, my woe !”
“ Show yourself, filthy foe
I thus swear, your demise
Will be swift, I promise…”
“ Sweet sayings, o slayer
Come closer, commander,


Epic epitome
Of grace and of beauty
I reckon you royal
I do know you, kind knight
I have been, from afar
Whilst you were with Hrothgar
Beholding, in the night
Your might and your madness.
I praise  your pure prowess
Until my dreaded den
You have disturbed my dawn
And slaughtered my fine fawn…
You must be Beowulf
Son of the bees and wolves. “

“Silence, seditious sin
You are not from my kin
Let alone from my line
You will never be mine !
March, woman, bow your nape
Under my trusted blade
Let your light crimson cape
Fall to the fallen floor
This shelter you have made
Your marooned murky moor
In this stretch naught was found
Your kingdom and your mound
Shall be your last torrent
The moon will be crescent !“

His eyes devoured her
Dear delicious posture
He pondered, standing there
Over her tempting tone
This soft gift of nature…
He wanted her dead, gone
She cursed him with a kiss
Basking in a pure bliss
His sallied sword collapsed
As the time sighed, elapsed
She skimmed him in the sun
With her dark divine dun
Seducing and soft sight
And he had lost the fight


He left her shining side
When the tedious tide
Swallowed his strong structure
As a King, with no cure !



September, 18, 2013

Dancing Desire/Désire dansant_

Chest to chest
I gently rest
My heart
On the beat
Of your heartbeat

Peau contre peau
Mon coeur, doucement
Se repose contre
Le rythme
De ton coeur

My secrets shine
Enchanted music
Along the symphonic
Mild and melodic
Lines of your lips

Mes secrets brillent
Musique magique
Le long des symphoniques
Douces et mélodiques
Lignes de tes lèvres

The handsomeness
Of your proud eyes
Pierces the skies
Of my pleasures
Tender treasures

La délicatesse
De tes yeux fiers
Perce les ciels
De mes plaisirs
Trésors de tendresses

Passionately
And endlessly
In this blissful
Embrace I trace
Your soft face

Passionnément
Et éternellement
Dans ce paysage
Je trace les traits
De ton doux  visage

The dance goes on
Over and over
Oh my lover
As we hold on
To each other

On danse encore
Encore et encore
Oh mon amour
En se tenant
L’un contre l’autre

The night draws near
So do her sands
We touch this time
With our hands
Realm of the rhyme

La nuit est proche
Ses sables approchent
Nous touchons de nos doigts
Le temps, royaume
De la rime

My secrets shine
Enchanted music
Along the symphonic
Mild and melodic
Lines of your lips

Mes secrets brillent
Musique magique
Le long des symphoniques
Douces et mélodiques
Lignes de tes lèvres


The stars cannot
The dust will not
Or so it seems
Destroy our dreams
Lost in the streams


Les étoiles ne vont pas
La poussière ne va pas
Il semblerait du moins
Détruire nos lendemains
Perdus dans les courants

In the motion
Of this passion
In your fusion
You feel the heat
Hold to the beat

En mouvement
De cette passion
Dans ta fusion
Suis le rythme
De cette heure

Let the peaceful
Night wrap its shade
So we can fade
Away graceful
Within our bodies.

Laisse la calme nuit
Nous voiler
Gracieusement nous laisser
Disparaitre au **** dans l’or
De nos corps.

February, 23 2015
23 Février 2015
University of California, Riverside
Université de Californie, Riverside

You graceful dutiful
Little creature of fur
Sweetest sight of Nature
Head of dreams plentiful

Your hazelnut
You will find not
For your brown tail
Blurs the pine trail

Your golden gate
In the soil, echoes
Dictates your fate
Mine is San Francisco’s.

In your gleaming glade
Hummingbirds in the shade
With feathers turquoise
They’re butterflies, likewise

Queer folks, but fine folklore
Of your secret forest
They race their rest
Less wings, for more freedom

An animal kingdom
Long and forgotten lore.
Squirrel,in your safe crest
You should sleep, so lest

Are you trembling
Because I will
In this night’s chill
Protect your ring

Your paws on my shoulders
Dream gently, drift softly
Off, for we will mildly
Conquer new wild wonders

April 17, 2015
University of, California, Riverside
Botanic Gardens

To Allen Ginsberg and Frank O’Hara


Come out, ye boys of my literary dream
Frank, stop discussing this Rembrandt painting
Take a good drag like I never did, and come out
Down the street, down the ***** ***** days of madness
Allen, talk some sense into these selfied statuses
Come out, ye boys and talk into the microphone
Loosen your tie, Frank, show us some real art
Lose it on the sidewalk ye boys and let’s break
The rules, the locks, the prisons of the soul
Addictions, fears, anxieties, inanities.

Come out, ye boys and throw some rhymes to us
So we can think about ourselves while worshipping you
So that some people out there can stop *****-shipping
Sending our lukewarm bodies and fluids against the wall
What would you say Frank, of all the Rivers who
Try to reproduce the beauty of the human body on screen
Without the aesthetics, without the knowledge
Of what love means. Garter belts and welts, is that all?

Come out, ye boys and let’s be graphic, let’s be artistic
Teach us how to spread your love your legs and your legacy
Pass on this fearless gait, this adamant will to keep on
Despite the junk of our cities down the ***** ***** streets
Come out ye boys, admirers of poetry and people
Come out under a rainbow or a ring, SM fans or prudes
Let’s march on an on an on down our ***** ***** streets
With ye, boys.

June 21, 2017
Lyon. 10:36 pm.

Tonight, in the black light of a slight hope

Tonight, in the black light of a slight hope
With my chalk I’ll describe you:
I’ll begin with your mouth
Beaded with gold, as tasteful
As sponge finger. I’d want to
Softly touch you.
I’d kiss your mouth
So languorous and red.

Two rubies in the air of tonight
Shining with mischievous liberty
My fingers gently move up
Your sight seeks me, sometimes flees
They are always within a reach
But statuesque, you count on me
To be, on the inside, Prometheus
For you know that your dear heart matters.

Tonight, in dark of a quixotic manor
And of that gasp of yours
When I hold you
Drawn by the quill your power
Is giving birth to, mirage, o male mage
And under my ink I possess
The complexion of your skin, your coloring
I hold your slumbering head.

I’d continue with your hips
That I’d slightly, in time, skim
Flower of a new spring
In the naked, wet and white warmth
Of your body. All of a sudden, you’d shout
Panting, you’d feel on the small of your back
The lingering stopping of my chalk
On you, fluttering.

The line is rushed
Because under your sighs I yield
A daring dove
I am for you, I hungry for you.

In a stream-like momentum
I plunge into you willing
To grab you, to know you’re my hope
In the silent and black night…

And the tongue of your flesh
Stains the drawing because your breast
Willing to itemize my drawing
Sketches you with a light-hearted air!

You are then
On this canvas
My tender gold
My long star

Art of a love
Which means much more
Oh so much more
Than what words convey!

Written on October 8, 2015. Translated in February 2016.

To the Poet Matthew Dickman



When you mentioned a crow
I thought of Allan Poe
Yet your words wielded
Allan Ginsberg’s queerness
Your awesome Americanness
Shuffled Allan’s wit
With your heart and gut.

You gave us a performance
But none of that heart and flowers
Romance
You were real and raw
On paper, in person
Personifying
Writing about it all.

Out of your world came out
The ardent desire to feed the pyre
Of ravenous demanding poetry
With no rhymes but sentences
A sentence which sent on death row
The rest of the worlds I heard today.

Words are wasted but yours resembled
A cherry-shed coke’s can, vintage 1975.

Lyon, November 6, 2016

Cleopatra, you hold your rose
So distant, but also so close
From your fertile feline *******
As you nonchalantly rest
Enjoying these men’s final breaths.

Your beauty is hellenistic
Plague of Troy, yet, Spartan grace
You breathlessly in your embrace
Pierce their left hearts, o,despotic
Queen of Egypt, bride of The End

Your exposed ***** still displays
Your bored wetness and cruelty
So they can picture the foreplays
They will last see in Agony
“Mercy, iconic royalty!’’

Your maiden’s body at your side
Is shaken by Thanatos’ tide
For she knows about your queerness
Melting in this morbid madness
For your cruel carnal caress









Queer Queen, bitten you have become
Enslaved and bound to a man’s Rome
So a snake to touch you chose
Let me tell you Damascus rose
You fell for Marc’s male-female love!

For the ******* perfume you drank
Humiliated in your chambers
Do you feel the burning embers
You have been marked with, and the fers
To defend and keep your high rank!



April 7, 2015,
Riverside, California

Flutters of your blood
Your heart joins my flood
Chest to chest we pervade
The air with love we invade
Our flesh and fingers fidget
As close as we can get
From the unique encore
We feel when I skim
As lights are sweet and dim
The key to your craving core
We lay beside Neptune the blue
Tone of our celestial tune your hue
Flashes through my panting eyes ajar
As we both finish the dynamic painting
With one momentum from one jar
Sweetly letting go of the world united
Entangled as our lips remain parted
One in the expanding universe
On the verge of veering from this verse


December 25, 2015, 10:41 pm
Libourne, Western front of France

Philosophy Café
Going downstream
Smoking
Its thoughts
Taking short drags

Trash Kant
Forget it all
One’s life upside down
A disappointed
Slow life
Trash Kant

If it’s without a hero
It is not Cicero
No one gives a ****
About any dame
Trash Kant
Yes, we can’t

Socraes would blush
If he heard the dialogues
Nothing would be written
Down a Decalogue
Sade’s sayings
Are insipid to them

Trash Kant
They pay the rent
To live in their
Oh, what a racket!
Pitiful alcohol
A risible sadness

And well they wouldn’t fare
In front of Charles Baudelaire
They only get of *****
The pensum
Trash Kant
No, we can’t






That’s an inspiration
A slow, peaceful
Aspiration
But you can’t get away
Without a sigh
And a bitter spleen


Translated on November 13, 2015
Villeurbanne

From the Thames, I snake along the black
Serpent taking the Tube, London’s rack
On the Northern Line, the night lays ahead
I remember the town’s name at the top of my head

Camden is like a classy underground broad
Come along before you’re again on the road
I was a chick when I first came to Camden Town
At eighteen, now a woman I’m downtown

From gothic ***** clothing to Hare Krishna
Camden is kind of like Gingsberg’s California
It’s shabby and mystical, silly and lyrical
When I’m there please don’t give me a call

Camden is like a drunk crow looking for Poe
In between nails and leathers that glow
You would grab a dude and he’ll be beneath
Jack the Ripper roaming at Hampstead Heath

My New England, Camden was and is
Not because of bars and hashish drags
Camden possesses underneath her rags
The sweet scent of a quirky release

Deliciously deviant divine
Line up at the looming line
The black Northern Line inked
All throughout London, linked…

December 20, 2015 9:26 pm
London, Victoria

It’s eleven, curfew’s enforced
Please wrap up your line
You were typing away
The lampposts went silent
It made you look up
Cling, and now a starless sky.

Urban decoy of human decay
The light has a syllable of its own
Voltaged language of *******
The city hovers over your hours.

A hedgehog silently treads
Runs past me, active and still
Before my satisfied quill
It made me look up.
Insects on my screen
Were nocturnal verses
Makers of my moonlit poem.

Chalon sur Saône
June 27, 2018

Written to Matthieu,


Loving

The pain of a doubt .
Seeking.
Perhaps, perhaps, seeking.

Healing

A futureless
Sentimental Wound
Meeting you again


In your words.
Isn’t that just
In real life
Role-playing?

Feeling
In lulls

Your long absences
That’s not a lie

Not getting

If we should take
What’s left to us
What we’re testing.

Remembering

For a few minutes…
Whether we were lovers
I watch you wither.

Thinking

About giving you back

What you thought
You discovered

Seeking, seeking,
Seeking.
Where desire
Has gone



I could tell you

That the past

Must have engraved
What happened


But giving up
Repelling

This memory
Everything is nighttime…

Writing

To know

That darkness
Is hard to drain!


Translated on August 7, 2015

Volens Nolens
Willing or not


I drink
To think
Myself into
The oblivion
I think
To drink
The alluvion

Sullied on the soil
Of our lost foil
For caresses we coil
Like moths around the light
In the drapes of the night
We have bled,  we make love
In our blue and grey cove

Coloring
The blankness
Blanking the colors
Along the dolors
Of this foolishness
Of this nothingness
Agonizing

Ashore the rivages
Of our images
Numbed by the fresh thick flows
Of their fleshly life’s vows
Reflecting
The four flames
Of our blames

July, 19, 2014

Automatic translation of

An automatic rifle

Goes ratatatatak attack

The field is clear

The ghosts of souls still near

We are A-OK in this situation with this

   AK-47



Peace is dragged in the dirt

Rope around her black stifle

**** around her black skirt

A soldier offers her some water

Her struggles refuse to whimper.



A stout blond-haired chieftain

Watches from afar. Red stains

Of pain and blood subdue her

She will collapse within the hour

All she hears is the rattle of the

Blond snake talking to her



Automatic translation of

The automatic rifle

Going ratatatatak attack



Someone attempts to translate

The anger of a Glock:

“It’s just around that block

That you will fall, Peace

Sentenced by the death clock

Mounted on the automatic rifle

But you’ll be A-OK in this situation we have the

           AK-47”



Trump(ets) of shame echo around the devastated field

They told the blond chieftain he’ll be lead in track and field

In college. They showed him naked models in lingerie adds

They still show up on his LCD screen in apps

They told him he could buy a revolver for a couple of quarters

So he said “no quarters, please take this batch of Grants”

You are A-OK in this situation with this

     AK-47



Automatic translation of

The automatic rifle

Went ratatatatak shot in the back



In between his hatred-filled decaying teeth

The chieftain was staring when she fell, without an ounce of grief

Rubbed in reassurance his bulgy AK-47 for relief

He then came… to the conclusion:



“REST IN PIECES, PEACE”



October 3, 2017

On your knees you pant
Devastated, waste-land
You feel your blood this bland
Rush filling you whole empty
As you slowly and deftly
Rise again sunset, slant

Light of your courage, wage!
Wage war, light of courage!

On your feet you rest
You will fight so lest
We forget for those
Who can’t stand
Devastated, waste-land
You are of thorns the rose

Light of your courage, wage!
Wage war, light of courage!

On your skies you reach
The tallest tower lower
Than your lithely self
No bounds no leash
You fly up, up higher
Freed from your self!

Light of your courage, wage!
Wage war, light of courage!

December 3, 2015

The cruel voice echoes across the crowded room
The naked prisoners, their ankles and wrists tied
Are shown to the masses, quite aware of their doom
And not a single soul is staying on her side

A black marble statue watches them from afar
But the queen fairly knows they won't escape so far
She wishes and awaits to sip their strong sour bloods
To bathe and to bask in those red furious floods.

Look at her, o pagans, ****** by the universe
Fallen from the heavens yet still as glorious
As the twisted tarnished despised and devious
Feelings shaped, created in this tragical verse.


August, 31, 2013

Soiled vital waters
fetid air, putrid eyes
enshrouded in their mess
pray your savior at mass.
Parched throats of children
skyscrapers of greed to worsen
Apocalyptic weathers.

Laughable leaders
******* you whole
you nodded to their role!
A nation forming fighters
Renegades! Ink traded for
a green and gregarious grenade
and in theaters, more horror and gore.

Curl up in bed with your ***** fingers
Ignore the insisting despair that lingers
Unattainable towers of desire
Sketching lines in your petty quire
Shout out to your flag carried by jocks
Olympic games of hardened idiots
Humans on paper, hideous grey flocks.

Sectarian society silenced by dollar signs
stupidly suffering the absurdity of this all
Lather your body in perfumes to find you whole
wash away the stench of your indifference
Gulping down whatever nectar of horrendous hope
Willingly treading down a meaningless lethal *****
Even our dying Earth won’t bend your deterrence!

August 29, 2018
Lyon

A dark line snakes along the shoreline
Vanishing into a towering temple
Home to the finest Michelin cuisine
The ravenous crowd awaits, raven-clad, fangs out.

Chef Yukinosuke’s obnoxiously fragranced guests
Survived his expertly orchestrated dinner with death
They devoured his fugu main course, without remorse
******* with a familiar demon, gatekeeper to hell

Muffled screams can be heard behind the rice paper curtain
A clamor of voices arises, one can hardly maintain
The merciless knives wielders, red lips kissing bone
Eternally insatiable of sins they can’t atone

For. Yukinosuke adjusts the nori bond
Of this new victim, his room will be fond
One poised drop of noir caviar in her navel
Her scaled-tail undulates, tale-tell

Signs of her struggles before slaughter.
Queen of the seven oceans served with a side
Of whipped up seaweed cream from the tide
Her breast perspiring under a life-like lotus flower.



Before her, watering mouths stare in disbelief
***** men eye her perfectly tamed skin
A woman sadistically touches her finger to her shin
Yukinosuke’s knife glistens, still free from grief.

Marred mermaid munched at midnight
Lusterless tuffs of salt-streaked hair
Vanished into thin air.
A trampled on silky red ribbon in lieu of a gag
Remains. Her turquoise scales to be made into a bag.

April 8, 2018

You sink into the fresh cotton ocean
fragranced by the oriental softener
I want you to reach into your inner
most abyss, while I pick my lotion.

We are alone my love, tonight
I owe you with my hands, give up the fight
Trust me, while I weave a warm thread of
tenderness on you, with me, you tread.

My fingers cascade and snake along your spine
I dedicate this moment to you. My message
is carved into you during this slow massage
To me, you are truly defenseless, thus divine

Imperceptibly, I skim your skin,
your breath, I appease
my angel, dream with ease
fallen asleep at my shin.

April 9, 2018
To Laurentin