Sunday, October 23, 2011

King

they clap their hands to the rhythm of my defeat
they feast my pain
they yell out glory when I'm down
they challange my crown

I can't loose, I'm a King without a country
I can't win, don't know where to begin

they steel my empty treasure
they burn my ashes
they starve the hungry
they feed the greedy

I can't loose, I'm a King without a country
I can't win, don't know where to begin

they dance on my grave
but my coffin is empty
they feed on my blood
who is the sucker?

I can't loose, I'm a King without a country
I can't win, don't know where to begin

Deeply yours

A clock is ticking.
I hear it somewhere, everywhere.
The silence lasts longer than the sound,
30 seconds longer than an hour.

I'm marcked.
If you don't talk to me
the colours will change their names,
the sun will shine at night
and the birds will crawl the earth.

I shouldn't have asked for your blood
we spilled it together.
We are wounded now
scarred for life
Cicatricé, they say in French

If you don't listen to me
songs will be unwritten,
poëms won't rhyme
and everybody will hear the silence.

I shouldn't have asked for your soul
the content was yours
my mind was too confused
my heart stitched
but hopefull

The clock stopped ticking now
I'm naked in body and soul
I smell the unknown
but was never smarter

Everything may vanish
My love will always remain

Thursday, August 11, 2011

NOT TO TALK

Not to talk
not to say a thing
Not to talk
even not to sing
To be certain
not to say a stupid thing
not to hurt
not to be the King of crap
Not to talk
Not to write, to create
Not to talk
Not to hate
To be certain
not to look the wrong way
Not to hurt
not to be wrong again
Can't take it
there's to much going on
can't shake it
the feeling is to strong
Have to break it
if I want to go on
Did I kill something
or is it just gone
Did I fail too much
lose your touch
Maybe I should have learned
Not to talk
not to say a thing
to be certain
not to hurt
not to be the King of crap
Not to talk
even not to think
Not to matter
if I am the King
of...your heart

Friday, August 5, 2011

Love is .....

Gently you put your hand on mine.
I can feel you were scared in the summer rain.
The rain is gone now, so is summer.
Did it take the pain away?
Softly I put my lips on yours.
I can still taste the salt of a tear.
The tear is dry now, so is the salt.
Shall we make it sweeter?
Carefully we stand nose to nose.
This is ours, this is you and me.
You are here, I don't want to go.
Shall we kiss a bit longer?
Firmly our fingers are strangled.
Our rings spell "Nimic Intre"
Nothing in between, now and for ever.
Can our hearts beat even stronger?

Saturday, April 9, 2011

It doesn't matter, my love.

It doesn't matter if I cry. I'm made of water. My feelings will flow right back to the ocean of love that is my heart. It doesn't matter if I cry. My tears will find my lips. They will let me taste memories of you. It doesn't matter if I bleed. My heart beats on. Like my fists on your door. It doesn't matter if I bleed. The drops will fall to my feet. They'll make a path, you could always find me. It matters if I smile. It means your in my arms. Your feet in blood because of your search. Your face wet because you found my heart. We matter.

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Life in black

16. I woke up from childhood and had just lost my mother to a sign of the horoscope. You know what I mean. My family had been acting strange for a while now and kind of putting me apart in a very caring way. Like in a protective bubble. Banned from reality. Prived of the thruth. A few month earlier..... That saturday my father, brother and sister had to go somewhere, unspoken for my ears. I don't even remember with whome I was staying while they were gone but my brother-in-law would drive them. My mom was in the hospital for months now and she wasn't doing well. Everybody had made me believe that my life was all about football and school. I was supposed to be such a talent on the field and my father was building castles in the sky about my future as a football player. When I think of it now it was probably his way out. His way of hiding from the pain, agony and guilt and maybe to reassure my mom that everything would be allright with me. To make a long story short, my mom died that morning, relaeved from her pain and defeted in battle, but a hero. When they came home and I come running to them, my father fled. He couldn't face me. It was my brother and sister that answered the questions: "How are you?" and "Where did you go?". The hidden teardrops in their eyes betrayed them before they could speak a word but still I had a spark of hope for them to tell me that everything would be allright. They didn't tell me so. While hugging me and bearly being able to talk they told me mom was no longer but she was in a better place now, free of pain and looking over me, always taking care, like in real live. I bursted out. I just lost my mom and sadness toke over but I was mad too. Mad because in all their good intentions they prived me of something very important. My chance to say goodbuy, to kiss her on her eyes and to tell her myself not to worry. I remember us all crying in the hall. My father joined us by then, completely broken. He had more demons to fight with and for the rest of his life he tried to overcome them. In vain. He died e few years later, a bitter man. No strenght left for anybody else but himselve. For the first time in my life I had the feeling I couldn't get what I wanted. I had been a worrieless child. Child in the real sense of the word. Playing and having a lot of imagination. Spending hours with a ball or soldiers in the sand. Now it was different. I was reaching out in the void, screaming in echos and realizing I would never have that recomforting feeling again of coming home to the warm arms of my mom. Goodbye childhood, hello realisme and cold adult world. I couldn't make a distingtion between a breaking heart and a pack frustrations. I was yelling inside all the time. Was I mean to my brother and sister in that time? I hope not. I do know they where there for me in that time and it was hard for them too. I know that everybody wanted to say sweet things but the clichés people told me to make me feel better got me even more angry. "When you die on a sunny day, you go directly to heaven" and "God first takes the best with him as a reward!" My God!! I didn't talk to God in that time and didn't know how to but I did ask him loud and clear to stop doing that! My relationship with the Lord in that time was stricktly a schoolrelationship where I had to follow the lessons and do my Holy Communions. Christmas and Easter were fun because of the commericial aspect but never I thought about the deeper meaning of it all. Like I told you I was a child and probebly very absend minded. I know what you're going to say, everybody thinks their mother is the best, but there is really nothing else I can say about her. She was selveless, always ready for everybody, didn't drink or smoke. Her only pleasure was some sweets now and then and going to the hairdresser. She really took care of us, especially of my father. He didn't always understand. Later that day we went to see her in the morgue. Darkness toke over and I decided to live my life in black. The funeral was for me a day of big pain but also of revelations. We had a nice little church in Nieuwpoort and I had not thought about the scenery. As we drove up the church way I saw a long line of people outside the gates. Some of them I had never seen, others were neighbours and friends of the family. But as we entered the church, following the coffin, I saw my school was there too. All the students of my year and all the teachers plus a delegation of the bord of directors. The church was packed and the people outside that I saw before were people who couldn't enter anymore. I suddenly realized how loved and valued my mom was. Just for a moment it warmed me up a little. It was very hard for me to stand in line and wait for everybody to pass and greet us, especially the girls and boys of my school who, some of them, were geniuwinely crying. Some of them fell in my arms and hugged me. I don't want to tell you more about that day, I felt like erassing the rest. Some time later... I made quit a transformation by know. From a nurdy boy with long hair covering his ears because he thought people laughed with them and glasses with a thick brown frame, I had now very short hair on the sides and back and some peaks on top and no more glasses. The nightmoth had become a dark butterfly and for the first time I got noticed. I call myself a dark butterfly because by now I only wore black. It was as if there was a new kid at school and everybody wanted to know him. It had given me a boost of confidence and I also found an ally in my daily struggle: humour. I really found a way of making everything look funny and therefor a lot of people saw me as an optimist. Actually I was a very good clown, wearing a mask and searching for salvation in making others laugh. It made me feel good and I was convinced that was the reason I was born. Laughing in the day time, down in the evening and night. At home I was spending all my time in my room. I painted it in dark green and only used a little lamp. I listened to music. Oh yeah, I was a new waver by now. My all black periode led me to black eye liner and hair standing up high, stiff with gel. But wait, there is more. When I went out in the week end I made my face pale and put on red lipstick that was wiped a bit to my right jaw. No, I was not gay. My father was afriad I was thou because he asked my sister to talk to me about this. I was just copying my idol in the time, Robert Smith, the singer of The Cure. I liked it so much and when my friends were joining me we felt cool. I even invented a group name for whenever we decided having our own band. The 17 Joy's!! We never did. On another level I kept my father's dream alive because I got selected to be a sub on the first team of football. I was still 16, it was a big deal for us. Faith decided that after 15 minutes I had to sub for the right defender who injured himself. I never lost my place anymore and was asked to go and test for teams of a higher league. The highest test match I played was for a team of third division, that's on national level. They argreed to take me but my current team asked a ridiculously high amount of money and so I didn't go and play for them. Mentaly it was a set back for me and I started not to care anymore. I stayed where I was for years, rotting the talent I had to end up quiting, for ever. 17. Life at home wasn't easy. My father blamed me for everything that happened. He got sick and couldn't do his job as a janitor like it should be done, so I had to help. He smoked a lot and day by day I could see him having less air and strenght. He ended up an invalid and lost his job. We had to move to an appartment. I don't want to tell you where I had to sleep. Damned. In the meanwhile I allowed a bit of colour in my life. Not to bright thou, dark green, grey and one shirt I liked because it was with all kind of stains. It was long and I had to wear a heavy belt to shape it. I was listening to Echo and the Bunnymen and to The creeping Foetus of the wheel. A very strange group but I liked it. Because I started to wear trousers that were torn I had to go to the director of school asking me, in a very nice way, not to do that anymore. I wanted to add "very nice way" because allthou I looked strange in black and with some make up, I never caused trouble. Even the cops skipped controling me. Pff, to think that some of them became my collegues later on. That's another story but reveals that I had to change my dear dear black for blue. You know what? I'm going to stop this wright here because in between the black and the blue there was aperiod in white. Curious? Maybe I'll tell you one day. I wish you all a bright life, Pascal

Monday, February 7, 2011

Illumination

Didn't we all talk to the Lord, once.
Like we know him by His first name.
Upclose and personal.
Didn't we all ask Him for understanding,
a way out,
Illumination.
Without shame for our absence.
Mute for years,
just deaf and blind.
Isn't it so that we know His name
when in need.
Please Lord, Godspeed.
I admit, I talk to Him every day,
hummble in His presence,
thankfull.
Forgiven for a vacantion of faith.
Illuminated.
Greatfull.

You're my reflection

Is it the wind, my love, when I get memories in my face?
That howls your name and yells out mine?
Is it the rain that replicates your footsteps?
Or the clock is playing me tricks again,
locking if it is time in vain?
Your picture took your place next to me in the sofa.
It seems to be smiling.
I kissed you serveral times today.
Did you feel it?
My reflection fades away in the corridor of mirrors.
Yours is burned in my eyes,
so yes, you are all I see.
You're my reflection.
" Au claire de la lune", i'm losing my mind.
I hope my asylum will be kind.
I'll take my eyes and your picture with me.
I need you.

Saturday, February 5, 2011

Wings

If I was a butterfly...
I'd give you my wings
so you could find the finnest nectar,
the sweetest by far.

If I was a bee...
I'd give you my wings
so you would be my honey.

If I was a bird...
I'd give you my wings
so you could fly and build a nest,
take care of us and rest.

If I would be a plane...
I'd give you my wings
so you could fly to your favorite destination
to envoy and to be vacation.

If I would be an angel...
I would give you my wings...

Lucifer by MIHAI EMINESCU

Once on a time, as poets sing
High tales with fancy laden,
Born of a very noble king
There lived a wondrous maiden.

An only child, her kinsfolk boon,
So fair, imagination faints ;
As though amidst the stars the moon,
Or Mary amidst the saints.

From 'neath the castle's dark retreat,
Her silent way she wended
Each evening to the window-seat
Where Lucifer attended.

And secretly, with never fail,
She watched his double race,
Where vessels drew their pathless trail
Across the ocean's face.

And as intent she drank his light,
Desire was quickly there ;
While he who saw her every night
Soon fell in love with her.

And sitting thus with rested head,
Her elbows on the sill,
Her heart by youthful fancy led
Did with deep longing fill.

While he, a brilliant shining spark,
Glowed always yet more clear
Towards the castle tall and dark
Where she would soon appear.

*

Until one night with shower of rays
He slips into her room,
As though a strange and silver haze
Did round about her loom.

And when at last the child to rest
Upon her sofa lies,
He iays her arms across her breast
And closes her soft eyes.

While where his ray on mirror lands
And is upon her couch redrifted,
It falls upon her throat and hands
And on her face uplifted.

A smile is on her lips it seems ;
He in the mirror trembles,
For smooth his ray glides midst her dreams
And round her soul assembles.

And while she is in slumber gone
She murmurs through her sighs :
"Come down to me beloved one,
Fair prince of the clear skies.

Come down, good Lucifer and kind ,
O lord of my aspire,
And flood my chamber and my mind
With your sweetest fire !"

And Lucifer beams still more bright
To hear her word's emotion ;
Then like a comet in its flight
Dives down into the ocean.

And where his bolt is lost to view
The sea in whirlpool surges,
Till out of the unfathomed blue
A handsome youth emerges,

Who, leaping off the fretful wave,
Lightly through her casement passes ;
And in his hand he holds a stave
Crowned with a wreath of grasses.

A prince indeed of royal stock,
With heavy hanging golden hair ;
A purple winding-sheet his smock,
Hung round his shoulders bare.

A starry glow shines from his eyes,
His cheeks are deathly white ;
A lifeless thing in living guise,
A youth born of the night.

"Down from the spheres do I come
Though dreadful the commotion,
My father is the vaulted dome,
My mother is the ocean.

For I have left my realm to keep
Obedience to your command ;
Born of the zenith and the deep
Before you here I stand.

O come, fair child of royal birth,
Cast this your world aside,
For Lucifer has flown to earth
To claim you as his bride.

And you will live till time is done
In castles built of sky,
And all the fish will be your own,
And all the birds that fly."

"O, beautiful you are, good Sire,
As but an angel prince could be,
But to the course that you desire
I never shall agree.

Strange, as your voice and vesture show,
I live while you are dead;
Your eyes gleam with an icy glow
Which fills my soul with dread."

*

One day went past, and went past two,
Then o'er the castle dark,
Fair Lucifer again to view
Shone forth his lustrous spark.

And scarce his beam waved bright above,
Her dreams to him were borne,
Her heart again by aching love
And cruel longing torn.

"Come down, good Lucifer and kind,
O lord of my aspire,
And flood my chamber and my mind
With your sweetest fire !"

Now, as he heard her tender cry
With pain he fadet out,
And lighthing flew about the sky,
Which wheeled and rocked about;

Around the earth a lurid glow
Poured like a torrent race,
Till out of its chaotic flow
There grew a human face;

About the head dark wisps of hair
Girt with a crown of flame,
And through the sun-illumined air
Borne up by truth he came.

His arms of rounded marble sheen
Did 'neath a cloak of raven show,
And sad and thoughtful was his mien
And pallid was his brow.

Bright eyes he had that seem'd to tell
Of strange chimeric bonds;
And deep they were as passion's spell,
And dark as moonlit ponds.

"Down from the spheres have I flown,
Though terrible my flight;
My father wears Apollo's crown,
My mother is the night.

O come, fair child of royal birth,
Cast this your world aside,
For Lucifer has flown to earth
To claim you as his bride.

A starry halo from the skies
About your hair will fall,
And you among the spheres will rise
The proudest of them all."

"O, beautiful you are, good Sire,
As but a demon prince could be,
But to the course of your desire
I never shall agree.

You wound me with your crude behest;
I dread what you extole;
Your heavy eyes, as though possessed,
Gleam down into my soul."

"But why should I descend to thee ?
Far better what I give;
My days are all eternity,
While you but one hour live."

"I would not chosen phrases seek,
Nor carefully my world arrange,
But though with human mouth you speak,
Your speech to me is strange.

Yet if you wish to prove your worth,
That I betroth myself to you,
Well, then come down to me on earth
And be a mortal too."

"You ask my endless life above
To barter for a kiss.
Aye, I will show how my love,
How deep my longing is.

My birthright I will fling aside
To be reborn of sin, and I
Who to all rolling time am tied,
Will that great knot untie."

At which he turned and went away,
'Midst a cloud of sombre pearl,
To renounce his birthright from that day
For the love of a mortal girl.

*

About this time, young Cãtãlin
Was a page boy of that house,
Who filled the festive cups with wine
At feast and royal carouse,

And carried high the regal train;
A foundling, brought by chance,
Born of a humble unknow strain,
Though roguish in his glance,

Round-cheeked, like rose-apples red,
Mischievous, bright-eyed,
He slipped with quick yet stealthy tread
To Cãtãlina's side.

Upon my soul, Queen of romance !
Was such a darling ever ?
Come Cãtãlin, quick try your chance,
For now's your time or never.

At which he round her waist did twine
His arm in sudden wooing.
"Behave, you rascal Cãtãlin,
Whatever are you doing ?"

"By sorrow brooding all the while
You would your heart assuage,
But better you would turn and smile
And kiss just once your page."

"I know not what your wishes are,
Leave me alone, you knave.
Ah me ! The longing for that star
Will drive me to the grave."

"If you don't know, and you would learn
How love is set about,
Don't recklessly my teaching spurn,
First fairly hear me out.

As trappers deftly birds pursue
With nets among the tree,
When I stretch out my arm to you,
Slip your arm thus round me.

Your eyes into my eyes must glow,
Nor turn away, nor close;
And when I lift you softly, so,
Rise gently on your toes.

And when my face is downwards bent
Your face turned up will stay,
That we may gaze with sweet intent
For ever and a day.

While should you wish at last to learn
The measure of love's bliss,
When hot my lips on yours do burn
Give back again my kiss."

Amused, yet with a girl's surprise
At what the youth acclaimed,
She blushed and turned away her eyes,
Half willing, half ashamed.

"A chatterbox you were since small
With overmuch to tell,
Yet I had felt, in spite of all,
We'd suit each other well."

But Lucifer's slow sailing spark
Crept up out of the sea
Over the horizon's arc,
Prince of eternity.

And now my wretched heart does bleed,
With tears my eyes grow dim,
Whene'er I watch the waves that speed
Across the sea to him.

While he looms with adoring ray
My grief to overthrow,
Yet ever climbs to heights away
Where mortals cannot go.

His silver beams that space defy
Sadly my watchers are
And I shall love him till I die,
Yet he be ever far.

And thus it is the days to me
Are drear as desert sand,
The nights filled with a mystery
I dare not understand..."

"How childish is the way you speak.
Come on! Come, lets us run away,
That all the world for us shall seek
Though no one finds the way.

And we shall nothing of this life regret
But joyous live and sprightly,
Till soon your parents you'll forget,
Nor dream your longings nightly."

*

Lucifer set out and o'er
The sky his wings extended,
And milion years flew past before
As many moments ended.

A sky of stars above his way,
A sky of stars below;
As lightning flash midst them astray
In one continuous flow.

Till round his primal chaos hurled
When out of causeless night
The first, uplaming dawn unfurled
Its miracle of light.

Still further flew he ere the start
Of things of form devoid,
Spurred by the yearning of his heart,
Far back into the void.

Yet where he reach's is not the bourn
Nor yet where eye can see;
Beyond where struggling time was torn
Out of eternity.

Around him there was naught.. And still,
Strange yearning there was yet,
A yearning that all space did fill,
As when the blind forget.

"O, Father God, this knot untie
Of my celestial birth,
And praised you will be on high
And on the rolling earth.

The price you ask is little count,
Give fate another course,
For you are of fair life the fount
And of calm death the source.

Take back this halo from my head,
Take back my starry lour,
And give to me, o God, instead
Of human love one hour.

Out of the chaos was I wrought,
In chaos would I be dispersed,
Out of the empty darkness brought,
For darkness do I thirst..."

"Hyperion, o child divine,
Don't thus your state disclaim,
Nor ask for miracle, nor sign
That has nor sense nor name.

You wish to be of man a son,
To be a star you scorn;
But men quick perish every one,
And men each day are born.

Yet stars burn on with even glow,
And it is fate's intending
That they nor time, nor place shall know,
Unfettered and unending.

Out of eternal yesterday
Into tomorrow's grave,
Even the sun will pass way
That other sun's shall lave;

The sun that every morn does rise
At last it's spirit gives;
For each thing lives because it dies,
And dies because it lives.

But you, Hyperion, never wane,
Night's miracle sublime,
But in the sky your place retain,
The wonder of all time.

So what strange fancy holds your mind ?
What dreaming thus belates you ?
Return to earth and there you'll find
The awakening that awaits you."

*

Hyperyon did straightway go
To where through ages gone
His gleam upon the earth below
Nightly he had shone.

And it was evening when he came,
Night's darkness slow assembled,
And rose the moon a frozen flame
That in the water trembled,

And filled the forest's twilight clime
With a silver starry mist,
Where 'neath a tall and spreading lime
Two fair-haired children kissed.

"O, let me lay in lover's wise
My head upon your breast,
Beneath the wonder of your eyes,
In soft and fragrant rest.

In mystery's enchanted light
Pervade me with your charm,
And flood my soul through passion's night
With time's eternal calm.

O, quench my longing's eager thirst,
My aching doubts o'ercast,
For you to me are love the first
And of my dreams the last."

Hyperion gazed down and knew
The fire their souls possessed;
For scarce the boy her nearer drew,
She clasped him to her breast.

A rain of petals in the air
That softly did enfold
Two fervent children strangely fair,
With locks of plated gold.

She, lost in love's enraptured flight
To heaven turned her eyes,
Saw Lucifer's down shining light
And whispered through her sighs:

"Come down, good Lucifer and kind,
O lord of my aspire,
And fill the forest and my mind
With your sweetest fire!"

And Lucifer, alone in space,
Her tender summons heard,
A planet o'er the ocean's face
That trembled at her word,

But did not plunge as'n former day,
And in his heart did cry:
"O, what care you, fair face of clay,
If it be he or I?

Still earth shall only earth remain,
Let luck its course unfold,
And I in my own kingdom reign
Immutable and cold."

Thursday, February 3, 2011

That's the way.

I don't know my way anymore,
nothing is like it was.
The stairway is longer,
the room much bigger
and the light is pale,
a fragment of it on my face.

The garden hides the way to your doorstep.
Bushes are soldiers of obstruction
and the birds spy my every move.
They know i'm looking to find you,
to dis- and un-cover you.

With closed eyes and open heart,
with reaching arms.
Maybe that's the way to find you.
Imagining the light on our faces,
burning but saving our souls.
Imagining the room filled with music,
your paintings, my poëms.
Just to be in love,
that's the way.

COMMENTS AND BLOGADRESSES

Hello friends and friends to be,

Thanks for visiting my blog en reading some of my stuff. I would really appreciate some comments, good or bad, doesn't matter! It's important to me to evolve let's say.

Also I 'm going to put some poëts and poetry from other people on the blog so we get to know some geniuses from all over the globe.

Please leave also your blogadresses so I can visit you too!

Hope you will like mine and theirs.

La revedere,
Tot gauw,
See you soon,

Pascal

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Hiding place.

The paradise flower spils its dust.
The sound of the organ carries it away.
Where I used to go hide,
there is water, there is tide.

The humming bird stays in the same place.
The wind under its wings.
I think I played the guitar once,
carressing the strings.

The seagull follows the fisherman.
Its song is a cry.
I was reciting too.
Nobody understood.

I'm running up the waterfall.
Swimming against the stream.
Like a salmon, going back to where I was born.
Not whole, not torn.

I hope my transending will be to heaven.
I hope God recognizes me,
when I go back to the place where I used to hide.