"Nessus.
He sings on the reed, he tells friends to hearts with joy and without it, is disfiguring of silence, he detonates under the clouds, he sings for them all, he whistles his lucidity, he is trembling and wild and siren and babbling. He lost his larynx to the rest of the grade, say, do, the tender will, grain polished soul washed.
forehead tense calm of ignorance and he pushes a more all his column and other high-rises, too, so high, he is faithful and tortured, he is congested and candid, he spreads across his lonely madness, absolute charm, his energy, his impatience, he spins the beads one by one they leave the head of the toad, frogs.
They met in the moonlight, in the corner beside the water where the skies plunged into the clouds, when everything is happy, everything fits, while swimming and shuddered and arches, it is a safe decision, ingratitude, an aspiration, it mixes, it hisses loudly, it is stretched, a sharp sound to another, a tree of weight Wind on the horizon
feathers pace, hope, salt, tact and imagination, it is party, he returns, he comes and goes, time is short The time is long, it is a wonder to say, each step gets closer to the story, the quiet, comfort, he is just coming out, he returns soon, he is tense and he fled the darkness, it is different and it varies, though,
birds will fall from the nest, he picks, he settles on a leaf, a roof edge, a wall, the trick is welcome, it must pierce his voice and sing in vacuum, the bird flies, he is saved, he fled the darkness, he returns, he returns, he has raised butterflies he saw strange things, stray dogs, lost children,
time passed and he did nothing, he took nothing, he insists he is injured the brambles, rocks, he improves his passing, he was quivering and tense, he told the others his heart, his absence, returns, leaks, research, the carnage, he is resurrection, he is tense and quivering, he exhausts his breath, his step, his muscles,
he tries, he can be found before the latest, before anything, before the empty it is sometimes vain and light, it is taut and quivering, it does no good , it improves their rhythm his thought, his fingers lost in the underbrush, his feet scratched with brambles, wild blackberry you pass, you pass, you ask a black spot on the nail,
on the tongue, teeth, sings like a sick child to join the lost souls, the terrors forgotten his insanity is lonely, he seeks and follows the time, the dry path through the reeds, it is taut and quivering, he is stubborn, he indulges, he made his apron, his time, his seed, he carries the heart birds
he imitates, he whistles, he blows, he is lost and without reason, wear one tunic poison and fire, centaur slain, he sings like a bird, it came, it is curved, it is taut and quivering, like a bird sings, he is tired and hiccups: the finish sentence in the breath before the belly posed no grasp on the last gasp,
birds sing without air, without blowing her horse and human, he is tired he stooped almost under his burden, he is naked in the reeds, he ripped the shirt, he is lost, tense, trembling, Nessus, Nessus you become again a man or horse or bird never, never flies, poison bites your flanks, you're beaten, you are losing,
consult the birds, you pass under the reeds, you seek the shade fresh. "
(Painting: Poet death carried by a centaur / Gustave Moreau) He sings on the reed, he tells friends to hearts with joy and without it, is disfiguring of silence, he detonates under the clouds, he sings for them all, he whistles his lucidity, he is trembling and wild and siren and babbling. He lost his larynx to the rest of the grade, say, do, the tender will, grain polished soul washed.
forehead tense calm of ignorance and he pushes a more all his column and other high-rises, too, so high, he is faithful and tortured, he is congested and candid, he spreads across his lonely madness, absolute charm, his energy, his impatience, he spins the beads one by one they leave the head of the toad, frogs.
They met in the moonlight, in the corner beside the water where the skies plunged into the clouds, when everything is happy, everything fits, while swimming and shuddered and arches, it is a safe decision, ingratitude, an aspiration, it mixes, it hisses loudly, it is stretched, a sharp sound to another, a tree of weight Wind on the horizon
feathers pace, hope, salt, tact and imagination, it is party, he returns, he comes and goes, time is short The time is long, it is a wonder to say, each step gets closer to the story, the quiet, comfort, he is just coming out, he returns soon, he is tense and he fled the darkness, it is different and it varies, though,
birds will fall from the nest, he picks, he settles on a leaf, a roof edge, a wall, the trick is welcome, it must pierce his voice and sing in vacuum, the bird flies, he is saved, he fled the darkness, he returns, he returns, he has raised butterflies he saw strange things, stray dogs, lost children,
time passed and he did nothing, he took nothing, he insists he is injured the brambles, rocks, he improves his passing, he was quivering and tense, he told the others his heart, his absence, returns, leaks, research, the carnage, he is resurrection, he is tense and quivering, he exhausts his breath, his step, his muscles,
he tries, he can be found before the latest, before anything, before the empty it is sometimes vain and light, it is taut and quivering, it does no good , it improves their rhythm his thought, his fingers lost in the underbrush, his feet scratched with brambles, wild blackberry you pass, you pass, you ask a black spot on the nail,
on the tongue, teeth, sings like a sick child to join the lost souls, the terrors forgotten his insanity is lonely, he seeks and follows the time, the dry path through the reeds, it is taut and quivering, he is stubborn, he indulges, he made his apron, his time, his seed, he carries the heart birds
he imitates, he whistles, he blows, he is lost and without reason, wear one tunic poison and fire, centaur slain, he sings like a bird, it came, it is curved, it is taut and quivering, like a bird sings, he is tired and hiccups: the finish sentence in the breath before the belly posed no grasp on the last gasp,
birds sing without air, without blowing her horse and human, he is tired he stooped almost under his burden, he is naked in the reeds, he ripped the shirt, he is lost, tense, trembling, Nessus, Nessus you become again a man or horse or bird never, never flies, poison bites your flanks, you're beaten, you are losing,
consult the birds, you pass under the reeds, you seek the shade fresh. "
July 30, 2010.
Michel Chalandon ... read HERE
***
Towards restful waters he leads me,
he restores my soul "
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