Le Baiser

"of all friends and lovers,
i've never met a kiss quite like his"


- Le Baiser de l'Hotel de Ville Paris 1950, Robert Doisneau

bacio

I've had a few kisses in my past;
sweet kisses, slow kisses,
fast kisses, wet kisses,
hard kisses, silly kisses,
stumbling kisses, drunk kisses,
intoxicating kisses..

Apple kisses, honey kisses,
cherry kisses, coconut kisses,
lemon kisses, jellybaby kisses,
wine kisses, summer kisses,
tent kisses, covered kisses,
clandestine kisses... public kisses.

Swirling kisses, too-much-tongue kisses,
hard-tongue kisses, cold kisses,
tobacco kisses, too-old kisses,
too-young kisses, humouring kisses,
why-did-i-kiss-him? kisses... festival kisses.

Wall kisses, pass-way kisses,
bus kisses, tube kisses,
flying kisses, monkey kisses,
rushed kisses, teasing kisses,
legs wrapped around him kisses... hummingbird kisses.

Of all these kisses;
some i remember more,
some - were better
then those before.


some i wish i could forget,
some i wish i had never met.

some make me want to go back...
some of feelings sadly lack

but what i've learnt from all,
a kiss is better when you fall.

words

fortes fortuna adiuvat

Qui que tu sois, voici ton maitre;
Il l'est - le fut - ou le doit etre.

Song: New coat of paint

Arriving on the shores of origin
she comes from those yet to be

With an unperfect guide;
a fawlty compass,
she tries to find the path no eyes see

Waves crash onto high walls
tresses tangles up
she disappears with a fickle fella'

"Don't play with those who live by no rules."

Black hole

It tickles in my chest
when you say it's for me
Temperature rises in my cheeks
you turn me into a schoolgirl
by declarations

O, how can you play me so
Your melody makes me smile
like the fool
I am

You stick on my mind
my eyes drift to you
and my insides implode


I've got a black hole were my gut used to be.

Song: Running up that hill

I see rivers in my mirror,
a canvas painted red.
Which painter used
these colors on me?

Those books never
told of this illness.
The lacking of spark has
a madness-inducing quality.

I'm troubled and tired
of waiting for a fever.
Hey, doc, I'm on edge
slip me a pill
when no other can see.

---
and how come sometimes we act like we belong in institution?

Artist: Andreas Grega

Untitled

my cover is blank
I don't know who I am
or what I'm about

an ambivalent mind
residing in a dark corner
I'm all and nothing

overlooked and noticed
I'm an open book
that you can't read

what's my worth
temperate the hurt
what do I get for my all
label me before I fall
I'm untitled

circle of excuses
we're both blind and at fault
I raise my wall of sheets

finally,
the empty is too much to bare
and I head for new destinations
for all the time I spent solitaire
and in silent conversations
I'm quite uncertain
that I know my own person