The sound of the trumpet

My father played the trumpet
Under the tree of memories
Inoculating the child
The offer to jump in with both feet
In the big puddle
According to the storm
On the dirt road.

Concrete is the quest
To go looking for demons
The metaphor of melancholy
Before going from room to room
Absurd stories
In the vase of suspicions
Without a shadow of regret.

The body is fragile in structure
The flower is bright
Token slipped into the slot
Let's inaugurate the right place
Adorned with passing mists
Where to drop off bag
Thinking of you.

Move the jug from my throat
Press some medicinal plant on my neck
Be quiet
Just surrounded by insects
To make a sound
The sound of permitted existence
To the cruciverbist with arms outstretched.

Shaken with spasms
The belly was revealed
Puffed scar
Coming out of the cave
Lively and proud
The Queen carrying in her
His own accomplishment.

Decision made
Captured by desire
He lay down in the ripe wheat
On the woman with the overturned bike
Peak Intuition
To take history backwards
At this entry into war.

The coffee tasted good
On the station terrace
Watching the trains go by
No more than ten minutes of course

Flowing
Without too many details to provide
Between the heart and the lungs of discord.

The squinting of the eyes
Bring the trees closer to the rock
Protuberance of the vernacular ring
Everyday words
Put in parentheses
On the side of a cup
Cradle of a rag doll.

The gaping faults and crevices
Secret wounds of the movements of the earth
Opened up at the zenith

At high noon
Bare feet in wet sand
Begging for room and board
After wandering along the cliff.

At the table despite everything
Looking good
The years have passed
Chance sprinkled with icing sugar
The back of the hand
Slipped into the gaping ghoul
From the Grande Vivrière.

Pubic flowers
Grown there with so little humus
We joined calmly
The story to tell
When paid plane tickets
Coming home
Scheduled wedding.

emaciated
On the hulling area
We have made a clear space
To slip the eye into the hole
To the only concern
To make it clear
The sound of the trumpet.


1562

Muse flushed out

Muse flushed out
Leaving Courmettes
With variegated skin
Approaching the centuries the centuries
By its presence and its beauty
The plainsong of the gray cuckoo.

I swear I love you
Rough-barked Acolyte
And to join the elves
To serve you
And to go find for you
The jewel of the depths.

Sir please
Don't be a jerk
In the forest under rocks
Desire is ample self-knowledge
To moisten the eye
To dance in a circle.

Missing more
That the pipe of the angels
To revive young blood
Lustful archer laying down his arrow
On the stone of sacrifice
Reflection of the radiant star.

Madam I suggest you
To go and taste the tongue
The heart of man
The dream of an end of cycle
Singing at the top of my voice the usual ballad
Happy people.

Vogue
And swells the belly
Be gracious
Engrossed by the play of meanders
On land and in the air
Path from man to man.



1561

The staff and the moon

Listen
I'll tell you something
You wait for me
Time passes
There are so many temptations
And presto ! I'm coming back.

Why don't you say anything
You the moon
Small horned moon
What do the crows corroborate?
On their return to town
In the evening.

Well yes
There is also the horizon
The horizon further than reason
Even further than home
The horizon of the song
Blurred galore.

Come on come on
I have to tell you something
How big the sky is
Higher than the mills
At the big feast
From New Year's Day.

And yet
It's declining everywhere
From floor to ceiling
Red moss
Always dance
Before the night before the day.

To finish
If it's not too twisted
There’s the can of tuna to open
To open in heart
Before the stick gives the middle finger
Frozen in his ardor.


1560

Forward all !

To bend down
To the second
Something is happening
At the risk of going down to paradise
In beauty
Gently
A pearl between your teeth
Like yesterday like tomorrow.

We will see the first stars there
By virtue of poetry
To avoid compromising
At the back of the head
What the adult says
Trap to break the wire
Of the child pushing far ahead of him
The plastic wheelbarrow.

It is possible
Let a blackbird pass
And iron on the washing line
Accumulating yellow beaks
From the community
In infinite facilitation
To be the master of the place
With a reputation for pure ecstasy.

A bit of smile
To open in reduced model
To the rehabilitation of the domain of the adults
Simply
Under the plant cover
Keeping the heat low
The handful of chickpeas
Thrown on the embers.

To offer
On a bed of moss
The white stone
Like stained glass
Crossed by light
Fine tip of the calamus
Inscribing some sign
In floating attention.

I ride therefore I am
In color on the clay
Crunching under the sole
Open barn door
Pigmented with wormholes
Just time to recover
The tin bucket
Filled with bulbous casein.


1559

The eye of snow

Snow Eye
Tumbling down from the mountain
We waited
The unexpected downpour
To spray with good scent
The blues of the soul.

It's snowing tonight
Then muted
Tintinnabula will be the fun of the party
White paws
Undulating and fluffy
Until the cuddly toy of dawn.

You are bark
And I sweet nostalgia
For a wing beat
Land like Renaux
On Mercury's dome
Shrouded in a rainbow.

The moon is ours
Breaking the echo of the chain of puys
Against the nagging lightening of the night
To reach the unique
The thread of a tale
What will the witches of Clierzou take on the fly?.

Without attachment beyond flames and tears
I tied up my memories of dangerous angels
At the dog's tail
Near the bench of the old lady with the black shopping bag
Able to search the reflection of the stars
In the cauldron of tenderness.

1558

And, of them, three

1, 2, 3
Sustainable
The tip of the pencil for writing
It is adorned with a gray camel
Trapdoor
From a swerve on the ice
At the foot of the terracotta
Triad of cat bowls.

Inaugural oracle
Ready to hit the snow
When digestion becomes strained
Immemorial secret
The enigmatic oral
Given in the abbey church
Balanced by presence
From attentive listening.

Vanishing point for José de Ribera
Skinning the old man alive
Throbbing call of the bass
Fingers hitting the table
With a strong rhythm
When our gazes
Sit drinking dew
On the anonymous offering.

Sifted
Without jostling the prophecies
Gift wraps scratching the silence
The lights on the tree tore
With little claw strokes
Maternal bowels
Like we are sharpening a piece of wood
With his favorite Opinel.

Power four
To have lived
Protects the Gargantua from bites
No for even more harm
Push the romance right from the entrance
But for marriage performed
Surround yourself with a tight sheet
The contortionist's loins.

Power five
It's all true
Even the truth of the living and the dead
Inclined to say
What to put your neck through the noose
Omen of a lowering of the curtain
Certain evening at the vigil
When the strawberry bites into your teeth.

1557


Restocking

Review and challenge me
Repeup of the low door
Nailed to a tree trunk
To haughty aspects.

Break the clichés
Entencient virtualities
Be the prince of the century
Voracious as a vulture.

Breath and don't ask for anything
Upcoming offspring
Making peace and prosperity
With the sown soul.

To welcome
And blame for having welcomed
The cause of the night
Obstacle to any measure.

At the postern is on foot
That men met
Around the frozen fountain
Prayer as a calabash.

Virtuous replica
Mixed blood candles
When the embraer
Sounded the death knell.

African miles are better
That five hundred Europeans
But what a house to provide them
The residence permit.

The wave slept the sand castle
At the bottom of the building
A piece of metal
The orifice by which to use.

Under the flight of bats
The eye of the triton
Nation's estafilade
Straight chin.

Elves and fairies
Dancing
Have magnified the love cauldron
Ash and sockets.

The mummy remained discreet
The rust eclipsed the moon
Shooting
Towards a bag of confusion.

What do you say about that
My friends at heart
At the Café de la Bon Mood
Let's draw a line at the bottom of the page.

1556

Single head with two bodies

Single head with two bodies
Corpuscula
By your tricks
You hidden my daughter's heart
O Almighty Lord.

Listen to me
The vive that only lives in my eyes
Be grace
Refuse his advances
Where prepare for the death..

Virginal pilgrimage
Distilled rose water
Light your shoulder chastes
On the Sinai slopes
To chant the sacred hymns.

Sterile moon
Three times reformed
You have extracted the juice from the outrages
Folie stills
All dependent on the musk of the beast.

Sublime actor
At the extreme subwaler veins
You will never be excessive tearful
Lion in love with childhood honeysuckle
Surrounded by clouds of clouds.

One
Let's redouble
Summer favors
By the Haber play
Let's draw the meanders of desire.

We will be a
White jelly
To cause rose
Disturbing set
Of the cause ends.

Picking the flower
As last interview
With candor and respect
Lapis Lazuli eyes
Prompts with wild rage.

Lengthen
Omen star sky
Packed up
Before setting up
Of the charming clamor.

Where are you ?
So close to yesterday
Today lighter than the breath
To dive shamelessly
Finger in the beyond.

Be not afraid of the lion
Exit the valleys of yesteryear
To empty the amber liquid
In the strange reflection of the moon
Brilliant by the crossroads.

Downright favorable
To the seals of bliss
They stirred the mud
For wedding crystal happened
Hug the shame of a strip farm.


1555

The pearl of love

Does not want to get out of the landscape
Depth
All year round is my kingdom
Whose mortal thicknesses I will purify.

Be nice to the nice
Be shiny torch
On the set set
As a sleepy eyes of vigilants.

The slightest flower cries
You say it in silence
Towards the place again
Mountain floors.

We will disperse soon
Wild geese of the country
To tumble up on each other
At the bottom of the wall of reason.

During the show
It will be enough to hang the pointed hat
Was, At the top of the shiny sphere
And to dance.

The weight of sorrows will not save us
We will be deceived and ruined
By whom violates the oath
In defiance of the infallibility of the present.

O wonderful
When you raise your hand to my lips
Employed by the injury of love
The west wind sweeps the black of the crows.

Thank you for guiding me
Visiting Aunt Jeanne
The sunset of the sunset
Making light eyes.

Two bodies two souls
Lend the flank to the same song
To create skillful needles
Fairy fabric.

Damage removed
Delicacy
Create civility for turned back
Remedy the absence.

You, small and lap
Your nails will never reach
The light injury of my neck
Simple trampling on the sand of the aisle.

Warrior with a lightning sword
Behind the bush
I will sleep the declining color of the day
To love the love pearl.

1554

I wonder

I wonder if I have to talk about it
It goes fast
As fast as the scale trays
Are light madness
As my love progresses.

Noble race until death
Oath
Just a few burning branches at the bottom of the corridor.

Tears are paid cash.

Poor intention of upcoming displeasure
Arguing when going to bed
On the bench of birch leaves
After having subsidized
This night with transfigured minds
In the room with childhood rats.

I have rarely given up in front of the mirror
For successful discrepancy
Celebrate
To break the moorings
In front of the junk.

Place with overwhelmed misery
Before succumbing to the service.

And you will not see anything like
By exquisite sweetness
What to sketch too much
Immodest eloquence.

What a show
That this bloody language
Right from the brine
In the shade of tamarisk
Of the pond
Where bubble
The fruit of extreme drilling
This plaster
This very truth
This very small thing
Fearful
Whisper
In the eternal alcove.

Operating table
Making ping-pong table
For Absolute Fong
Bounce the ball
Full-throated.

The rail ramp of the railings
Unscrewed
Head rolling up to the in-between of the interior lessons
Until the Basket of Finitudes
Picnic basket
Open lids
Flying
Towards the Vermeille splint
Heaven's march.

Winter peel
Lampees of a salable wind
I thought I reach the bottom of the Amers Gulfs
Within reach
On the garden clid.

A scale
Allows you to climb to Van Gogh's room
To man in profile
Au regard tourné vers le bow-window
De quelques occurrences jointes
Agrémentant la venue du partenaire.

D’évidence absconse
Sans rituel humiliant
La parole se délia
Pour être stockée dans la mémoire locale.

La tête du bovin
Parfaite tête
Avec ses cornes
Ses oreilles
Et son mufle luisant.

Le bœuf et le chien d’une crèche
À Lucéram
Point d’orgue du périple provençal.

Pas d’escalier
Rien que des plans inclinés
Glissant à souhait
Jusqu’à la soute du précieux trésor.

L’homme ouvrait son journal
Faits divers à la une
Pour d’un regard trempé au fil du ciseau
Faire jaillir pleine page
Les gouttes de sang de l’Adieu.

( Work by Sylvain Gérard )

1553

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