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"porche" poems
How badly I want to be in that John Hughes film I want the cheesy romance That reeks of tears for fears And looks like the **** or geek or criminal That sixteen candle Sitting on your 944 porche With the credits rolling up kind of romance Please leave your notebook at home Locked up with a vow you don't remeber. I want that weird science kind of chemistry A day off involving you I can look pretty in pink I can look pretty in Hughes of you.
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Jun 29, 2016
Jun 29, 2016 at 11:30 PM UTC
Hughes of you
I can't get action nowhere I can't get satisfaction nowhere Just rage and hate and shouting and crying, But it won't bring my brother back anyhow. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? The police say it was a gang war The neighbor says he was with the wrong ***** The kids on the corner say it was a turf war. I just know I won't see him any more. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? He was a typical kid growin' up in the hood He did what he had to that's understood His life was rough, his friends were tough, So much around him and none of it good. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? It was a hot afternoon in the projects He was out scopin' out his prospects A car sped by, I heard gunfire Someone shouts my brothers dead. Why? Tell me why Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? In the projects it's understood Life ain't worth nothin' in the hood One day your livin' large with a Porche in the garage Next day your dead as a piece of wood. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? The jealousy and pettiness are insane It's hard to believe we're in the same game We're fighting each other, brother against brother And all we're doing is filling graves. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? No one's gettin' ahead here We're only getting dead here When your life is measured by the bundles you clock We should be lookin to get outa here. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? Everyday here's another wake No one want's to give only want to take Have another drink maybe I won't have to think About what we love and forsake. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die?
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Nov 27, 2011
Nov 27, 2011 at 3:38 PM UTC
My Brother
I can't get action nowhere I can't get satisfaction nowhere Just rage and hate and shouting and crying, But it won't bring my brother back anyhow. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? The police say it was a gang war The neighbor says he was with the wrong ***** The kids on the corner say it was a turf war. I just know I won't see him any more. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? He was a typical kid growin' up in the hood He did what he had to that's understood His life was rough, his friends were tough, So much around him and none of it good. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? It was a hot afternoon in the projects He was out scopin' out his prospects A car sped by, I heard gunfire Someone shouts my brothers dead. Why? Tell me why Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? In the projects it's understood Life ain't worth nothin' in the hood One day your livin' large with a Porche in the garage Next day your dead as a piece of wood. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? The jealousy and pettiness are insane It's hard to believe we're in the same game We're fighting each other, brother against brother And all we're doing is filling graves. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? No one's gettin' ahead here We're only getting dead here When your life is measured by the bundles you clock We should be lookin to get outa here. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die? Everyday here's another wake No one want's to give only want to take Have another drink maybe I won't have to think About what we love and forsake. Why? Tell me why, Why? Why? Why did my brother have to die?
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48
Did you ever have that moment when Cupid's bow had three arrows? One for you, and two for the other people you would fall in love with. It's not something I can handle, but it's something that just happened. I fell in love with two guys at the same time. One's name was Macho, the man of machines. His love for automobiles contrasted my ignorance for them. We shared many loves, but enough to keep us different. The second's name was Eros, a man of passion and *** He was the hand of Cupid, and knowingly plucked the bow In my general direction. He shared the future with me, but distance kept me weary. So here I sit, wounded and unknowing. Confused for the future and Lost in the woods. My only task as of present Is to choose one. Passion or porche? Future or Ferrari? Love.
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Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 10:07 PM UTC
How did I know?
*"I GOT OLE CASH SPASIN ON THEY *** It's so beautiful when a group of teens *"ALL MY BAD ******* , FREAK HOES"* Can come together in harmony *"AHHH **** IT UP"* And sing and dance in one united voice "BEND IT OVER BEND IT OVER" Our ancestors would be proud. "FIRST LET ME HOP OUT THE MFKIN PORCHE" Friends ain't never held on to each other tighter *"DID A LOT OF **** JUST TO LIVE THIS HERE LIFESTYLE"* Even our most promiscuous sisters *"JUMP ON THE **** Have lowered their standards enough "TWO RED BONES KISSING IN THE BACK SEAT" To accommodate our less fortunate brothers *"ION WANT THAT *** ,I WANT THAT ***** Brothers not capable of owning a belt nor shirt "GUCCI EVERYTHING" Even in the scorching heat of this room *"I'M PULL UP EAT ON THAT ***** AND DIP"* They keep each other warm in the comfort of their buttocks and crotches "BABY HOW YOU DOOOO IT" I'll ignore the shoving and foot stepping "SQUUUUUUUAAAAAADDDD" Because the movement happening here is way more important "JUMP-MAN JUMP-MAN THEM BOYS UP TO SOMETHING" To the priceless growth of our community *"I'LL BUY THAT ***** Brothers and sisters lets toast **** YOU AND THE ***** THAT CAME WITH YOU"* To good fortune "WHO SAID I AIN'T GETTIN' MONEY?SHIIIT!" Love ***** YOU AINT **** **** And knowledge "FIRST YOU GET THAT MONEY THEN YOU GET THAT POWAR" Lord "PASS ME THE HOOKAH" Just let us all get home safely. "I PULL UP SKUURRRT SKUURRRT SKUUURRRT" And forever remember this peace party "I'LL COME LOOKING FOR YOU WITH HUNTERS AND RIFLES AND SHI" Aww **** let me go get my lil cousin.
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Mar 29, 2016
Mar 29, 2016 at 6:25 PM UTC
Party Spirit
*"I GOT OLE CASH SPASIN ON THEY *** It's so beautiful when a group of teens *"ALL MY BAD ******* , FREAK HOES"* Can come together in harmony *"AHHH **** IT UP"* And sing and dance in one united voice "BEND IT OVER BEND IT OVER" Our ancestors would be proud. "FIRST LET ME HOP OUT THE MFKIN PORCHE" Friends ain't never held on to each other tighter *"DID A LOT OF **** JUST TO LIVE THIS HERE LIFESTYLE"* Even our most promiscuous sisters *"JUMP ON THE **** Have lowered their standards enough "TWO RED BONES KISSING IN THE BACK SEAT" To accommodate our less fortunate brothers *"ION WANT THAT *** ,I WANT THAT ***** Brothers not capable of owning a belt nor shirt "GUCCI EVERYTHING" Even in the scorching heat of this room *"I'M PULL UP EAT ON THAT ***** AND DIP"* They keep each other warm in the comfort of their buttocks and crotches "BABY HOW YOU DOOOO IT" I'll ignore the shoving and foot stepping "SQUUUUUUUAAAAAADDDD" Because the movement happening here is way more important "JUMP-MAN JUMP-MAN THEM BOYS UP TO SOMETHING" To the priceless growth of our community *"I'LL BUY THAT ***** Brothers and sisters lets toast **** YOU AND THE ***** THAT CAME WITH YOU"* To good fortune "WHO SAID I AIN'T GETTIN' MONEY?SHIIIT!" Love ***** YOU AINT **** **** And knowledge "FIRST YOU GET THAT MONEY THEN YOU GET THAT POWAR" Lord "PASS ME THE HOOKAH" Just let us all get home safely. "I PULL UP SKUURRRT SKUURRRT SKUUURRRT" And forever remember this peace party "I'LL COME LOOKING FOR YOU WITH HUNTERS AND RIFLES AND SHI" Aww **** let me go get my lil cousin.
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44
By Arcassin Burnham texting you at three in the morning when I need you, Touching you like kissing the rain when I feel you, you could turn a flower to gold with your finger tips, Touching you like kissing the rain, I feel pain, Just a little in my lower abdomen, You can not shy away from me, Or the truth, Or the lies, Or the deceit, When you cry, One day I'll die, Knowing you cared for me, I was here before, Drying my own eyes, With a matching suit, And matches to light my owe fire, More of a thought than an action, When the cameras are rolling, I gave a slight reaction, Uncontrollable satisfactions, Violent outbursts to a dark past, So when you me in the hall you better hal *** Been punked out my whole life, With an unborn kiss from my mothers heart, Its complete ******** so I don't need to brag, With the life situations and countless rumors, I swear to god I need a heart attack, But enough about me, How is your mom , i know she talked about me, Probably saying how well you'd do without me, I was born to **** up, Its not a secret anymore...... its an anatomy, I said I would love you no matter the cost, And I ******* that up, Feelings drowning in a dead pool, Sometimes I need to finish, But I'm searching for a soulmate not a witness, I just need some more clarity, Would just help me out this hole, No friends were there for me, Play me like trading cards and leave me out in the cold, Angry gestures won't get you by, Wishing and hoping that the silver spoons die, Die out and then never divide, Like roaches they scatter around, But so quick to provide, You drive in a ******* porche while I take the bus, Your money , you better hide, So while I'm going on about that, I'm reminiscing the good times that I spent with you, All the nights you probably asleep, Thinking about me in your dreams, I'll just be ............ ...texting you at three in the morning when I need you, Touching you like kissing the rain when I feel you, you could turn a flower to gold with your finger tips.
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May 24, 2015
May 24, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC
"Texting You"
By Arcassin Burnham texting you at three in the morning when I need you, Touching you like kissing the rain when I feel you, you could turn a flower to gold with your finger tips, Touching you like kissing the rain, I feel pain, Just a little in my lower abdomen, You can not shy away from me, Or the truth, Or the lies, Or the deceit, When you cry, One day I'll die, Knowing you cared for me, I was here before, Drying my own eyes, With a matching suit, And matches to light my owe fire, More of a thought than an action, When the cameras are rolling, I gave a slight reaction, Uncontrollable satisfactions, Violent outbursts to a dark past, So when you me in the hall you better hal *** Been punked out my whole life, With an unborn kiss from my mothers heart, Its complete ******** so I don't need to brag, With the life situations and countless rumors, I swear to god I need a heart attack, But enough about me, How is your mom , i know she talked about me, Probably saying how well you'd do without me, I was born to **** up, Its not a secret anymore...... its an anatomy, I said I would love you no matter the cost, And I ******* that up, Feelings drowning in a dead pool, Sometimes I need to finish, But I'm searching for a soulmate not a witness, I just need some more clarity, Would just help me out this hole, No friends were there for me, Play me like trading cards and leave me out in the cold, Angry gestures won't get you by, Wishing and hoping that the silver spoons die, Die out and then never divide, Like roaches they scatter around, But so quick to provide, You drive in a ******* porche while I take the bus, Your money , you better hide, So while I'm going on about that, I'm reminiscing the good times that I spent with you, All the nights you probably asleep, Thinking about me in your dreams, I'll just be ............ ...texting you at three in the morning when I need you, Touching you like kissing the rain when I feel you, you could turn a flower to gold with your finger tips.
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59
Al campo, dove roggio nel filare qualche pampano brilla, e dalle fratte sembra la nebbia mattinal fumare, arano: a lente grida, uno le lente vacche spinge; altri semina; un ribatte le porche con sua marra paziente; ché il passero saputo in cor già gode, e il tutto spia dai rami irti del moro; e il pettirosso: nelle siepi s'ode il suo sottil tintinnio come d'oro.
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883
Arano
La luna segó tres veces su alba cosecha de nardos. Tres veces sobre la mar bailaron fantasmas blancos. La novia espera alisando su largo cabello ***** A veces, peine de plata; a veces, peine de hierro. Le dice al viento: -Ya viene. La flor de la salvia reza: -Yo formé almohada morada para su triste cabeza. La novia espera bordando, en oro, banda de seda. Por el camino una nube espesa, de polvo denso. Por el camino se acerca, enlutado, un mensajero. Pone la rodilla en tierra, besa la mano de reina. La novia mira a lo lejos y grita ansiosa: -¡Ya llega! Por el camino se acerca, sangriento y mudo, un espectro. Hinca la rodilla en tierra, helado la boca besa y lágrimas color sangre caen en las vacías cuencas. La novia cierra los ojos y siente un frío de huesa. Caminante apura el paso y en esa puerta no llames después que tras de los montes se haya dormido la tarde. En ese porche sombrío todas las noches se aman un espectro, que en el pecho tiene sumida una daga, y la novia que en el día peinando el ***** cabello aguarda pálida y triste que regrese el caballero. La noche se lo trae muerto a recostarlo en su pecho.
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698
Romance de la inútil espera
‪I was good before the meds‬ Slightly depressed because I wanted to leave my husband But other than that, I lived. Is this me? Is mania my thing? How many times do I have to trip before I go back to Bing? Oh **** everything is all of a sudden exciting! Counting numbers like a mathematician Looking at numbers like they’ll come into fruition A Beautiful Mind subtracting with ambition Hey Eleven! Is it 11:11? Upside down, still 11:11 Oh hey, Porche 9-11 That’s my birthday! 9/11 8:44 I’m going to do it 9:44 I’m going to do it 10:44 weighing my options 44 reasons to pop it Stop it Where did I get these bruises on my legs? Shortness of breath A billion needles stinging through my chest Night sweats Driving fast and a little wreckless That’s when I know I need to get checked I need to be in this bed Half dead Blood sample draining from my head From another case of miscalibrated meds This better be the prescription Otherwise I can’t live knowing my mind can't function
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May 4, 2018
May 4, 2018 at 2:04 AM UTC
Another trip
This list will really help you see, All the life hacks that you need, How to think and how to be, If you are of human breed. Pride- Don't be proud, everything you have achieved, Is thanks to god(in which you HAVE to believe). Envy- Don't want what others have, even if their **** is better, if their gf's *** is fatter.(you'll end up in hell) Gluttony-eat only as much as you need, and don't enjoy any of your meals( food is as bad as *** it seems) Lust-don't ever wish to **** even when down on your luck (and you haven't smashed in months) Anger- don't be angry at the man who ******* your mom and took your land(you sure have to understand, he's a righteous Christian man) Greed- don't want more and don't try,or you will surely roast, your life should be sacrifice, only Jesus needs a Porche. Oh and I almost forgot, Noone likes to **** a Sloth. If you abide by these rules, You'd avoid a lot of fun. But as a righteous Christian fool, That's a job that's all but done.
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Apr 7, 2019
Apr 7, 2019 at 12:20 AM UTC
God's top 7 list
Dear Governmet I have watched you for a while now And it must be said You need to come down to earth Have any of you walked among The regural people lately Has it occurred to you That by encrasing the tax On any comsumption just might Backfire big time Each time you ask us to pay more Criminality increases dramatically People get sicker than before You get poorer and basically You ask us, the people, to get creative Do not underestimate the masses We have claimed our rights before Each time you take from us We take from you And let's be honest You need us more than we need you Let me remind you that we went Without you for more than a year And the economy blossomed We do not depend on you However, weather you will Be able to provide your employees A villa and a Porche Depends entirely on us. Let's be honest That will only work for so long
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May 15, 2015
May 15, 2015 at 10:23 AM UTC
Who feels creative?
Street lights shone down on the curvy silhouette of a black corvette. The reflection of the road side glistens off of the flawless Chrome coat of the vehicle. The engine roars at the slightest touch of the gas petal as my father turns to me from across the table. "It sounds amazing doesn't it." I nod my head in agreement as another beauty of a vehicle passes by us. A porche convertable glides smoothly across the pavement with a purr slightly different than the corvette that had passed before hand. "I like that one better though, don't you?" I shrug my shoulders. The cars were undoubtably impressive and incredibly expensive. They were beautifully tailored without flaw, but for some reason I felt nothing toward them. A strange smile spread across my face and my father looked at me confused. "Why are you smiling?" I looked down at my hands and thought for a moment to myself, not allowing much to slip out as I thought of one specific car that I really loved. "I don't know...I like the sound of trucks better"   I say looking down at my hands, remembering.
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Aug 25, 2017
Aug 25, 2017 at 2:45 AM UTC
My Last Summer Night
I. J'errais. Que de charmantes choses ! Il avait plu ; j'étais crotté ; Mais puisque j'ai vu tant de roses, Je dois dire la vérité. J'arrivai tout près d'une église, De la verte église au bon Dieu, Où qui voyage sans valise Écoute chanter l'oiseau bleu. C'était l'église en fleurs, bâtie Sans pierre, au fond du bois mouvant, Par l'aubépine et par l'ortie Avec des feuilles et du vent. Le porche était fait de deux branches, D'une broussaille et d'un buisson ; La voussure, toute en pervenches, Était signée : Avril, maçon. Dans cette vive architecture, Ravissante aux yeux attendris, On sentait l'art de la nature ; On comprenait que la perdrix, Que l'alouette et que la grive Avaient donné de bons avis Sur la courbure de l'ogive, Et que Dieu les avait suivis. Une haute rose trémière Dressait sur le toit de chardons Ses cloches pleines de lumière Où carillonnaient les bourdons. Cette flèche gardait l'entrée ; Derrière on voyait s'ébaucher Une digitale pourprée, Le clocheton près du clocher. Seul sous une pierre, un cloporte Songeait, comme Jean à Pathmos ; Un lys s'ouvrait près de la porte Et tenait les fonts baptismaux. Au centre où la mousse s'amasse, L'autel, un caillou, rayonnait, Lamé d'argent par la limace Et brodé d'or par le genêt. Un escalier de fleurs ouvertes, Tordu dans le style saxon, Copiait ses spirales vertes Sur le dos d'un colimaçon. Un cytise en pleine révolte, Troublant l'ordre, étouffant l'écho, Encombrait toute l'archivolte D'un grand falbala rococo. En regardant par la croisée, Ô joie ! on sentait là quelqu'un. L'eau bénite était en rosée, Et l'encens était en parfum. Les rayons à leur arrivée, Et les gais zéphirs querelleurs, Allaient de travée en travée Baiser le front penché des fleurs. Toute la nef, d'aube baignée, Palpitait d'extase et d'émoi. - Ami, me dit une araignée, La grande rosace est de moi.
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375
L'église (I)
I. J'errais. Que de charmantes choses ! Il avait plu ; j'étais crotté ; Mais puisque j'ai vu tant de roses, Je dois dire la vérité. J'arrivai tout près d'une église, De la verte église au bon Dieu, Où qui voyage sans valise Écoute chanter l'oiseau bleu. C'était l'église en fleurs, bâtie Sans pierre, au fond du bois mouvant, Par l'aubépine et par l'ortie Avec des feuilles et du vent. Le porche était fait de deux branches, D'une broussaille et d'un buisson ; La voussure, toute en pervenches, Était signée : Avril, maçon. Dans cette vive architecture, Ravissante aux yeux attendris, On sentait l'art de la nature ; On comprenait que la perdrix, Que l'alouette et que la grive Avaient donné de bons avis Sur la courbure de l'ogive, Et que Dieu les avait suivis. Une haute rose trémière Dressait sur le toit de chardons Ses cloches pleines de lumière Où carillonnaient les bourdons. Cette flèche gardait l'entrée ; Derrière on voyait s'ébaucher Une digitale pourprée, Le clocheton près du clocher. Seul sous une pierre, un cloporte Songeait, comme Jean à Pathmos ; Un lys s'ouvrait près de la porte Et tenait les fonts baptismaux. Au centre où la mousse s'amasse, L'autel, un caillou, rayonnait, Lamé d'argent par la limace Et brodé d'or par le genêt. Un escalier de fleurs ouvertes, Tordu dans le style saxon, Copiait ses spirales vertes Sur le dos d'un colimaçon. Un cytise en pleine révolte, Troublant l'ordre, étouffant l'écho, Encombrait toute l'archivolte D'un grand falbala rococo. En regardant par la croisée, Ô joie ! on sentait là quelqu'un. L'eau bénite était en rosée, Et l'encens était en parfum. Les rayons à leur arrivée, Et les gais zéphirs querelleurs, Allaient de travée en travée Baiser le front penché des fleurs. Toute la nef, d'aube baignée, Palpitait d'extase et d'émoi. - Ami, me dit une araignée, La grande rosace est de moi.
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61
La main au front, le pied dans l'âtre, Je songe et cherche à revenir, Par delà le passé grisâtre, Au vieux château du Souvenir. Une gaze de brume estompe Arbres, maisons, plaines, coteaux, Et l'oeil au carrefour qui trompe En vain consulte les poteaux. J'avance parmi les décombres De tout un monde enseveli, Dans le mystère des pénombres, A travers des limbes d'oubli. Mais voici, blanche et diaphane, La Mémoire, au bord du chemin, Qui me remet, comme Ariane, Son peloton de fil en main. Désormais la route est certaine ; Le soleil voilé reparaît, Et du château la tour lointaine Pointe au-dessus de la forêt. Sous l'arcade où le jour s'émousse, De feuilles, en feuilles tombant, Le sentier ancien dans la mousse Trace encor son étroit ruban. Mais la ronce en travers s'enlace ; La liane tend son filet, Et la branche que je déplace Revient et me donne un soufflet. Enfin au bout de la clairière, Je découvre du vieux manoir Les tourelles en poivrière Et les hauts toits en éteignoir. Sur le comble aucune fumée Rayant le ciel d'un bleu sillon ; Pas une fenêtre allumée D'une figure ou d'un rayon. Les chaînes du pont sont brisées ; Aux fossés la lentille d'eau De ses taches vert-de-grisées Étale le glauque rideau. Des tortuosités de lierre Pénètrent dans chaque refend, Payant la tour hospitalière Qui les soutient... en l'étouffant. Le porche à la lune se ronge, Le temps le sculpte à sa façon, Et la pluie a passé l'éponge Sur les couleurs de mon blason. Tout ému, je pousse la porte Qui cède et geint sur ses pivots ; Un air froid en sort et m'apporte Le fade parfum des caveaux. L'ortie aux morsures aiguës, La bardane aux larges contours, Sous les ombelles des ciguës, Prospèrent dans l'angle des cours. Sur les deux chimères de marbre, Gardiennes du perron verdi, Se découpe l'ombre d'un arbre Pendant mon absence grandi. Levant leurs pattes de lionne Elles se mettent en arrêt. Leur regard blanc me questionne, Mais je leur dis le mot secret. Et je passe. - Dressant sa tête, Le vieux chien retombe assoupi, Et mon pas sonore inquiète L'écho dans son coin accroupi. [...]
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407
Le château du Souvenir
La main au front, le pied dans l'âtre, Je songe et cherche à revenir, Par delà le passé grisâtre, Au vieux château du Souvenir. Une gaze de brume estompe Arbres, maisons, plaines, coteaux, Et l'oeil au carrefour qui trompe En vain consulte les poteaux. J'avance parmi les décombres De tout un monde enseveli, Dans le mystère des pénombres, A travers des limbes d'oubli. Mais voici, blanche et diaphane, La Mémoire, au bord du chemin, Qui me remet, comme Ariane, Son peloton de fil en main. Désormais la route est certaine ; Le soleil voilé reparaît, Et du château la tour lointaine Pointe au-dessus de la forêt. Sous l'arcade où le jour s'émousse, De feuilles, en feuilles tombant, Le sentier ancien dans la mousse Trace encor son étroit ruban. Mais la ronce en travers s'enlace ; La liane tend son filet, Et la branche que je déplace Revient et me donne un soufflet. Enfin au bout de la clairière, Je découvre du vieux manoir Les tourelles en poivrière Et les hauts toits en éteignoir. Sur le comble aucune fumée Rayant le ciel d'un bleu sillon ; Pas une fenêtre allumée D'une figure ou d'un rayon. Les chaînes du pont sont brisées ; Aux fossés la lentille d'eau De ses taches vert-de-grisées Étale le glauque rideau. Des tortuosités de lierre Pénètrent dans chaque refend, Payant la tour hospitalière Qui les soutient... en l'étouffant. Le porche à la lune se ronge, Le temps le sculpte à sa façon, Et la pluie a passé l'éponge Sur les couleurs de mon blason. Tout ému, je pousse la porte Qui cède et geint sur ses pivots ; Un air froid en sort et m'apporte Le fade parfum des caveaux. L'ortie aux morsures aiguës, La bardane aux larges contours, Sous les ombelles des ciguës, Prospèrent dans l'angle des cours. Sur les deux chimères de marbre, Gardiennes du perron verdi, Se découpe l'ombre d'un arbre Pendant mon absence grandi. Levant leurs pattes de lionne Elles se mettent en arrêt. Leur regard blanc me questionne, Mais je leur dis le mot secret. Et je passe. - Dressant sa tête, Le vieux chien retombe assoupi, Et mon pas sonore inquiète L'écho dans son coin accroupi. [...]
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68
A notre premier rendez-vous , dis ! T'oublieras pas d'amener tes poupées et ta corde à sauter et Robinson Crusoë et moi c'est promis je ramènerai mes billes, mes osselets et Vendredi. On jouera au cerf-volant aussi c'est promis. S'il y a du vent Et s'il fait beau et qu'on en a envie On fera du toboggan et on jouera à chat perché. S 'il pleut on se mettra sous un porche et on jouera aux cartes. tu sais jouer aux jeu des sept familles ? sinon on pourra toujours essayer les petits chevaux ou le jeu de l'oie. Je te laisserai jouer avec mes soldats de plomb et j'espère que tu me prêteras pour la journée Ta dînette pour que je te prépare Une menthe à l'eau ou un diabolo fraise. S'il fait trop soleil On se mettra à l'ombre Et je te lirai les lignes de la main et je te montrerai ma collection de timbres roumains. Et s'il fait nuit et qu'on voit des fantômes On se cachera sous les couvertures Je t'apprendrai à faire de la bicyclette Et des cocottes en papier tu verras c'est fastoche Et ça fout les chocottes aux fantômes ! Ah j 'oubliais ! J 'amènerai ma fronde aussi Pour te dégommer de l'arbre une mangue bien mûre Qu'on dégustera tous les deux en même temps Et on promettra-jurera-crachera qu'on est amis pour toujours !
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Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 11:39 AM UTC
A notre premier rendez-vous