An Ode To A Fast Car (Tracy Chapman Inspired Text.)

I was just a boy before I’ve met you.

I remember our first day as lover. In you flat, with your friend, I often felt out of place many times in my life but you made me fell welcome. This wasn’t easy for me to spend the day with you, at first I thought it would be. I was wrong, simply wrong. There is thing in life that doesn’t need explaining, like that feeling I had with you. If I could describe it, I would say that your love was my home. I haven’t had to force myself into playing a role, I was just myself. In fact, a better self, you had this effect on me, the only thing in the world that cured me from my mental illness, my demons, my fears, my sins. No need of pills or chemical treatment with you… well no, in fact, love do a weird chemical thing in our brain, that lead to happiness.

So there I was, with you and your friends, that were about to leave and all I could think about, is the night, our first night we would spend together. I was anxious for the night, but also looking forward to seeing another side of your love. I hoped I would enough for you.

We both talked about living with each other, so early in a relationship. The wise men say « fools rush in » and we were fools, but full of hope and of love.

That first day, we managed to visit some flat to live together. We hadn’t had much money, being together under a roof was already luxury for us.

Remember, that dusty old flat that we visited. With those creepy neighbors, telling us about how awful it was to leave there. We knew we wouldn’t leave there, but that feeling of a maybe, a future, together was so strong that we visited another flat. Same as before, we couldn’t say it was a roof that we would have above our head.

Then, a friend of yours wanted to see you, you and your new boyfriend. I was fine with it, as long as I was with you.

She started looking for trouble in the thrift shop we were in and we decided to leave her alone, in her mess.

We ran like fools, you with your high heels, your arm tucked under mine. I let you decide our escape route, we couldn’t stop laughing at the simple thought of your friend finding out we left her alone, with a pissed off shopkeeper.

And then, two straits dogs came toward us. They just looked at us and ran away. It was a sign to me, you, a dog, a home and that all I needed.

How could have we thought life would have kept us together? Happiness, some say, come at a cost. What do we had to pay?

I was in the light with you, I was ready to get up, no, better, rise up for you.

How could have I known that the car would not stop? How could I have known that somehow, this random car would take you away from me forever?

How can I live with your scream of agony, for mercy, for help, forever roaming in my mind?

I don’t thing about retaliation nor justice.

My soul wanders in the dark now, until we meet again.

Sorry wouldn’t be a word that you would have like for me to say to you.

I will hold on to your memory, your love, your light that I will search all my life.

Never, ever, I’m sure, I will meet someone like you.

But I know, deep down or high up, there is a place waiting for us both, and not a miserable flat.

We could call it heaven, if being with you is what’s waiting for me at the end of my road.

Jaskiers

Publicité

If It’s The Last Time

[Inspired by Red Dead Redemption 2 – Warning: Spoiler]

As I watch some wild boars devastating the grass at the far end of the forest, I stay here, wondering if smallpox do the same kind of mayhem in my lungs than those wild animals makes in the forest. It probably looks like that in there, like a tornado just have passed.

Coughing blood after every intense activity, seeing myself, my body, weakened, this is probably the end, or at least, this is very close to it.

What’s left of me? A child that die after three hours of being born. And a wife, well, a «should have been wife» that do everything to forget me, friends that I will leave in need, a father figure going mad and a country that is changing way, way too much and way too fast.

Everyone keep telling me that I am a good man, that there is a side of me that is kind but it’s being overshadowed by the evil side, the one that keep thinking and hanging on a lifestyle that doesn’t belong in this new era we are entering in.

What a life, I had a good run. What happen to me is payback for all the ill I’ve done. There is a justice after all. At least, It’s look like it. This is at the very moment that death is around the corner that I finally realise that I have spent my time chasing ghost. And I have left a pile of dreadful things along the way.

What matter to me was nature, the Wild West, the anarchy and the poison of every god damn man in this world, money!

Damn! Money can’t buy me new lungs!

I wish I could have spent more time with that old Native American, riding next to him to the top of the mountain where is used to meditate and think.

Thinking! I have forgotten how to think! Like a raging bull, I’ve been going through life without planning what was waiting for me at the end. And the crash is my illness.

It’s all about love life isn’t it? What’s make us truly happy, for real? Have you noticed how falling in love was the most incredible and powerful things you could experience? It’s… rejuvenating! It’s something that bound us all, human beings. Everything seems pale next to being in love.

We don’t necessarily do great things when we are in love either, but at least, we do it for the most beautiful reason.

I had the chance to love and to be loved. That was a short period of my life, but the happiest one.

Years have gone by so fast! So fast! I always knew I will die young or, at least, not old. I was afraid to be old. And now, I wish I had this opportunity to grow old. Even alone, you don’t need someone to be happy, really.

If I could choose, I would have been a rancher. For once in my life, being stable. Here comes the time when the body can’t travel or being on the run, he can’t handle it anymore.

I would have had horses, cattle, a dog and a cat.

I would smoke a cigar on my porch, drinking whisky as I watch the sun set. Until I die.

But this kind of death isn’t for me, sadly.

The boars are now gone.

And I’m going on my last ride.

I’ll miss nature.

Maybe the other side, if there is one, is ready to welcome me. I hope so at least. I hope whatever decide our faith over here will see the good side of me, if there is one.

Can’t even take one good last breath, I guess I’m punished now to rest peacefully later.

I hope. Some people say faith is more important than anything. If think not. Love is.

Hope keep us going and love give us a purpose and a meaning.

Goodbye.

Jaskiers

Ode To A Redemption (A Poem)

FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.

—

This poem was inspired by Red Dead Redemption 2

Once there was a time
we would have kill for a dime.

No past,
forget the West,
here in the East,
feel like an undesirable guest.
No laugh, just pain,
pest,
and death.

Dreams of majestic beast in the wild,
a free roaming stag.
Everybody here is out of their minds.

Get on horses, run free,
no responsibilities,
no duties.
Just you and me.

It feels like the past,
come at me too fast.

How did we end up here ?
Starting to regret a lifestyle that I’d used to love.
Opened my eyes, should have been with you.
Give each other another shot,
I don’t have much left,
how could I dare,
express myself,
after so many lives destroyed,
by my own hands.

I am ashamed,
and scared.
But I’m waiting for no heaven
‘cause on Earth, I acted like a demon.
I am ready, to join the devil.

This is too easy,
to say sorry,
to ask for forgiveness.

They’re some things you simply can not change,
no going back,
nor going further,
until the end.

I’m roting from the inside,
the mad men I am,
show itself in the outside.

I will not lie,
I had good times,
the ones with you.

You’ll see me next,
six feet under the dirt,
if I have the chance,
to end it all,
with some honor.

As I try to make peace with my God,
I know, coming from me,
this is odd,
Thousand of questions,
starting all with why.
I’ll never have the answer,
I just have to tell you my goodbyes.

Your on my mind,
you were more precious,
than every gold I’ve stolen.
I guess this is the moment,
when we’re about to leave this life,
that everything seem so simple.

Maybe I should forgive everyone,
to disappear,
but know that for you,
I would have gone
a hundred thousand miles,
just to see your eyes.

Maybe one more last kiss,
you’re all I’ve ever missed,
a relationship
gone in the mist.

What a savage I was,
running and ruining
the poisoned gift of a life. Living a lie.

Nothing makes sens,
civilisation is putting fences,
around a property,
working days and night,
weekly,
monthly,
yearly.

That wasn’t the kind of life I’ve ever wanted,
nor a life that I’ve lived.

On the run, constantly,
friends murdered,
the worries.
It took its toll,
on my mind,
on my soul.

I hope that for you, the future hold,
a respectable life,
happiness, that you don’t necessarily
find in dollar bills.

I’ve been hunting for it,
never had enough.
Was I addicted to violence ?
Sure.
You didn’t deserve that life,
no future,
a constant blur.

You’ll live the rest of your existence,
knowing I was yours once.

I hope that you’ll live fully,
proudly,
knowing that all along,
you were in my heart.

I was lucky,
to ride along with you,
even if it was on a rocky road.
Your love was priceless to me,
I was too proud,
to express it,
in front of you face.

I regret too much thing,
but now it’s times,
to go away,
to write down my last will, pay back no depts nor bills
and to spread my wings.

Jaskiers

A Pinkerton’s Warnings (A short story)

FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.

—

As I lay in this dens bush, the outlaws are drinking, singing indecent lullaby and exposing their latest successful crime like grandiloquent theatric actor with each other. Of course, those horrid story are embellished, coming out off their mouths.

I follow those bandits for two weeks now. They move often, from state to state, making their couple of weeks of stays a time of nightmares for the locals.

Robbing the poor and the rich folks that roam their lands, killing for a few dimes, stealing diligence, bar fights, rapes, you name it.

The reign of terror of those outlaws is coming to an end. The world has changed gentleman !

The United State is starting to hold up to its name and promises. We are uniting. It took time a good amount of death and misery to reach this ideal.

We, Pinkerton, are a federal agency charged to take down criminals who still haven’t understood that this is the end of impunity for those outlaws.

We have the means, we have the mens and the laws and even the President by our side.

The criminals only got their ideal. Wich belong to an ancient and savage era.

Modernity’s on it’s way. No more gunslingers, no more duels in the middle of the street, no more gangs.

Why did I follow those men for two weeks without interfering with their misdemeanor ?

Gathering proof. We want them to hang on nooses. They have to leave this world that don’t want them and, frankly, never needed them either.

As I am watching them laugh and throwing up their cheap moonlights, I just imagine myself putting a rope around their neck.

Sure, maybe a couple a them have some sort of code of conduct but the simple fact that they are riding together prove that they do not belong here either.

Show me your friends and I’ll tell you who you really are.

Those criminals talks about moral but they all are ready to sell their mother for a lighter sentence. The hanging noose, a simple rope frighten those bastards who can kill you for just looking at them the wrong way.

The curious things about those animals it’s that they know we are on to them. They even met us, exchanged fierce firefight with us, but they still think that somehow, we will let them do their crime. They bury their heads in the sand, but they will finish 6 feets under the ground. Well, if someone feels like digging holes for them. I don’t think anybody will go through this hardship for a single one of those maggots.

See, we are on to them. We know, we see, we gather proof, testimony. Their downfall is near. Society is ready… no even better, willing to get rid of them.

I deplore the amount of time we are offering them. They are, in some way, lucky that I am not in charge of their eradication. With me, no trials, just a bullet between the eyes. Quick, simple, effective. That would be the perfect way to end this non-sens.

But I will obey and keep a close watch on those fuckers. Discipline and obedience is key to a civilized society. And I will make sure to look at every single one of their cadavers, spit on them and carry on serving the law, the justice for the emerging and perfect civilisation. For the futur.

The time has come !

Signed : a Pinkerton agent

Jaskiers

Meet The Unknown ( A Short Story)

FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.

—

Inspired by The Wanderer above the Sea of Fog by Caspar David Friedrich

Young man, young man. Go on adventures, take your youthfullness with you, see those lands that nobody never had the chance to discover. See for yourself. Not for another. Young man, go and don’t look back unless the landscape is worth a view ! Leave Young Man ! Live young man !

Young man, that’s how is grandpa’ used to call him. Those words came from a letter that he wroted to him, August, his grandson.

August loved to read this letter over and over. It gaved him a feeling of greatfullness, of mindfulness, of legitimity. He wanted to travel the world because his grandfather advised him to. Granting him with the autorisation to go on adventure, alone.

This letter was writed by a dying old men, full of love and wise advice for his grandson.

August spoked to his dad about this letter. It wasn’t really an easy relationship between his father and the old man. Exactly like it was between August and is dad. History as a tendancy to repeat itself now and then, to reciprocate the same kind of patterns.

August’s dad read the letter, frowned and gave the letter back to his son.

– Do whatever you want with this old man advice. Maybe his right, maybe not. Do as you please. Either way, I know you’ll do what you want even if I advised you against doing something this dangerous.

Of course, August would have love to have the opportunity to follow his grand father advice. He dreamed about sailing in the most dangerous seas, the most cruels and beautifull montains, the most mysterious forest, meeting curious and shady stranger. Living the adventure.

August left alone his family household directly after the end of the school year.

Taking the bear minimum, he started his journey on foot, he had planned to travel to Alaska. He wanted to face the cold weather and the unapologetic environnement of the wild snowy landscape of the great North. Leaving his warm californian lifestyle to confront the terrifying cold of the alaskian weather.

Maybe, he would meet those husky dogs, maybe he will encounter the notorious grizzly bear, and some royal looking moose. See some natives of this land who will teach him their way of living, learning the ropes of surviving in the wilderness.

And then ? Take the sea. Like an Hermann Melville, without any single experience of the sea. Not to hunt whales, but to live throughout the hardship of being a sailor. Why not enduring the devastating waves and winds of a storm ?

All in all, he wanted stories. Stories he could write and talk about like a Jack London.

August wasn’t blinded by the situation he would put himself in. He knew that it will not be an easy walk in the park.

But what’s an adventure without risk or danger ?

His journey will also be a learning curve, learning who he was, deep inside. And only him and his God would judge him troughout his adventure.

Young man, go West, or North, South, Est. Maybe all at the same time ! But move young man. Mouvement is life ! Take what’s yours : freedom !

Jaskiers

Tributes to The Lizard King # 5 | It’s all Over

The « Tributes to the Lizard King » series is my hommage to the poems and writings of Jim Morrison.

FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.

—

Today, it’s all over.

We buried the

Unknown Soldier.

Lighted a candle,

nourished the fire.

Walking in the desert and

Step on a wire.

Trip in the sand, and…

Fell in love with a witch

and her magic wand.

Slowly she raised my hand.

Til’ the heaven stop the hell.

That’s what’s she told me.

Did she loved it?

I can’t tell.

I loved her two time,

One for tomorrow and one for

Today.

It’s all seem to far away,

like the Beatles and Yesterday.

Life is a bet,

to no one’s,

we owe debt.

Baby we gonna be alright,

because we learned how to forget.

As the sun we’ve been waiting for,

Set.

I need to go away,

We are just wanderer,

on planet Earth.

Just flesh, eyes, nervous systems and beating hearts.

Cancel our subscriptions to the

resurrection.

They’re is but one direction,

one thing we will all go through,

you know what I’m talking about.

I leave you, remember me, flamboyant,

no encore.

Followed her in the wood.

You want the world,

Now !

Scream, act bold,

scold because they scorched

our beautiful sister.

As the world go round and round,

we going numb and dumb.

Nobody want to fight in the front line,

for a wicked politician.

Good news !

The hitchhiker is dead !

Peoples flock the street,

but I feel dread.

This was me, the all time !

I had this thirst for love I could not quench

I’ve fallen down.

I can not stand.

Because this is the END.

—

Jaskiers

Tributes to The Lizard King # 4 |A Killer awoke before dawn

The « Tributes to the Lizard King » series is my hommage to the poems and writings of Jim Morrison.

FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.

—

Wandering in the darkness

For a moment.

Approaching the light and another.

The hitchhiker full of hatred

Realize he is nothing less than dead.

A cold summer rain

A warm winter snow

in the blanket of ice

He took his final bow.

What happened ? His everything allright Pam ?

Young people still dying for Uncle Sam !

Jim !

Nothing have changed.

Put in some pill, cure my brain.

Of disease

with ease.

Coughing

I’ill stop drinking tomorow morning !

That’s what’s the doctor said.

How much did I paid ?

Cheap drugs

Grave dug

Père-Lachaise

Next stop.

The girl in the window

Still won’t drop.

How they will spread hateful inks

Puting on the paper my weirdest kink.

Always alive

For death I strive

One day I’ll dive

for one last night.

With my pal.

Cosmic Girlfriend

Witch and devil

Is this the end ?

Game ! Took a bet !

Dead body in a bath

mother, father, let your kids avoid the draft !

Beautiful friends, look for a cold blooded lizard

Instead of a scamming wizard.

In few decade will come a friend

destroying the establishment from the inside.

And a bullet In his brain

That will be all he gain.

Everyone carry their pain.

Perverted, divergent generation of unholy saints

Singing for the redemption of…

I’m glad you came.

When I do it alone darling

I feel such a shame.

This is not the same.

Can we stop that game.

Boring end of a day,

an other dead corpse

an other death for hopes.

Oh captain I feel sorry.

Why so much disdain ?

Mistrust ? Why do they deserve

a bullet in the guts ?

Why Am I here ? What’s my worth ?

I will finish my days

with my mistress.

I’ve sang about the scream of a butterfly

Fly,

high,

a life unchained, untied.

Freedom for all.

The real one.

Don’t listen to your president

he too, kill innocent.

Exhuberent, arrogant.

All of them,

adamant,

lunging,

Clinging for power.

Humanity ? For that it’s over.

They send your child

to the slaughter house.

When they should be hanging out

in a road-house.

Dead generation

Forget the past.

It’s their turn now

To turn the tide.

A table turn

the forest burn

kids with gun,

They’ve got the fund,

to wage their war.

But none for them,

by the side of the road,

abandonned again.

The hitchhiker

modern Charon

Cross the river

it is shallow

everythings seems,

so hollow.

How the place you’ll go !

Fly high

Come down

to drown

and die.

You fell of the boat

their’s no one above

Neither below.

How the place you will hurt

Boots full of dust

rifles full of rust.

The killer of the futur,

will taste an other kind

Of lust !

Lost !

Mother ?

Yes son ?

Nothing, I’m moving out, moving on !

Buy the times this message reach you,

I will be long gone

because I alway awoke before dawn.

I put my boots on.

Father ?

Yes son ?

I’m not the one,

searching for honor.

Neither glory.

Don’t you worry

Mom, dad.

I’m glad,

thanks to you, a decent life I had,

reality hit me hard.

Nothing,

meet me at the psych ward !

—

Jaskiers

Tributes to The Lizard King # 3 | Rising your Mojo

The « Tributes to the Lizard King » series is my hommage to the poems and writings of Jim Morrison.

FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.

—

Lit a cigarette
In front of the audience.
Hit it once
Throw it on them.

Flamethrower
In the trenches,
Audacious !
Going over the fences.
Government lies are denses.

Valse
Tango
Spanish
And Flamenco.

Bulls love mouvement
Not the color !
Smell the blood
Iron odor.

Open the Doors !

travel, jump on the floor

no feast, again ?
No friends
No honor.

Bedroom full
Of books.
Trying to plant some
Roots.

Hangin on to something.
Check the noose.

Give him boose
So he can leave.
On the loose.
He cannot choose.

A freak accident,
By the side of the road,
Dead Natives Indians.
White Americans are
Guilty.

They said ;
Careful !
They’re a killer on a road !
You know the form of his brain !
Tried to change him in vain.
He want to inflict pain.

Hotel money sex and alcool
Hangover as an hyperbole.

Cigarette ashe burned my crotch.
I have to find another dealer
Another dope,
To float my boat.

Tell God
Face Satan,

He’s got himself,
A face, one of a goat.

Watergate,
Call Deepthroat.

A missing colony in Roanoke.

Soft balls, eyes.
hard bones, hole.
Die.

She just want to sleep with some guy.
He just want a relationship.
Church, mariage and
Everything.

How boring…

Guns on the night stand
gonna make the night end.
Note of Achille last stand.

Walking on one leg
shooting with one hand.

The other to busy,
Making provocative gestures.

Yesterday, far away
A Beatles is dead
imagine, song wrote in bed
For a protest
by a millionaire
it’s business
long hair
Man.
Really dont care.

Another shooting
Hitchhiker in the wilderness
Black tharp
Bullets
Cobain brain
Sex drive drained
clout gain
When the music start again.

Daughter of the storm,
birds feeding their offspring
Worms.
They’ve feasted on your dead body.

Morning glory.
Take good care of my wood.
please lady of the street
Be good.

Yelling compliments aloud
head in the clouds.

Give me one ! Please
put myself at ease.
The old men is wise
your thighs, my prizes.

Tight squeeze.

Reflection on the tempo
no mirror
Check ego.

Valentine, oh Valentine !
Officers, I’m innocent !
They started it,
stamping elephant
wear some elegant
cloths.
For you are the galant.
Bed sheets, a talent.

Lucy in the sky with diarhhea

way done bellow.
On the receiving end,
guess a color,
said yellow.

Submarine
Nuclear
missile. Launch.
Being eated alive
by a brown bear. Lunch.

With me you are
You
Tomorow we’ll be good.

But tonight
I’ve met a maniac,
Who think the hear is flat.

Walk on the moon
the dark side
of her. The bright
Influence the sea tide.

Tidy little bedroom
tank crew go boom.

Met the witch on her broom.

Patriarca
Pater Riot

Pussy,
super ball.
An invite
welcome home.

The same rhymes,
the same time.

Kill a men
Don’t go to prison
attacking a demon.

Stay with mom
leave us alone.

Quote on quote
Broad on Broadway’s sidewalk.

Take it, see you, shit sister.

Kneeling for the anthem,

Welcome.

Go home

you are a dead.

Mouvements and conflicts
In our eternity.

Leave
Live light show
making it flows.

Foes full of flaws.

Old papy pays the fine
With rusty Diamonds.

Stay easy and calm
Reproduce.

Scream at the wall.

Great lf the sea

make out the scenery.

Boddah
Woke up !

When ?

Foremost, tomorrow,

Forward, too hard.

First Forest, burn.
Familiar with the boss
But we hate him.

Ate.

Wink.

School called
Let him in.

Fallen
Dragged
Killed.

Holy war,

All in the
Film Noir.

And whiling to be reborn.

No renaissance.

Take your Time.
Reverse the big flow.

A sail laid on the sea tide.

Cancer diagnostic,

let me die.
For what.
Rested my case before and again.
Peaceful resident
Adamant and conscientiously resistant.

I let myself drown into the sea.

We are from another realm ?

Nod your head yes
And I’ll say no.

Go away demon of the night
Yesterday I rested
Today once more,

So let me go !

Your evil dance.

Demonic chance.
See you after.
Today.
The sun is up.
Ghosts throwing up.
They couldn’t handle
Their last cup.

Bye now
World of non-sense.

To never and ever.

Good sight.

For a good bye.

—

Jaskiers

Tributes to The Lizard King Series # 2 | Turn On The Lights !

The « Tributes to the Lizard King » series is my hommage to the poems and writings of Jim Morrison.

FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.

—

The music as ended, get up and turn on the lights.

Slowly, my eyes will burn.

Onward !

Let me rest
Fight my inner demons
Unrest.

Outside the window,
Hear the tempest.
Invasive thoughts,
Unwelcomed guest.

Heavy burden, get of my chest.
your finger tips
Run on my skin,
The devil and his jest.

In the never,
Go west,
In the wilderness
thick bushy forest.

Turn on the lights,
Let’s make it bright !

Since the music’s over,
Watch out for the Hitchiker,
Faceless shadow,
Mean, rugged, you disgrace !

I’ll tell you,
When to
Put it off

Because my dear

Death…

it’s not the end
The dark feelings, the bitter,
Bend.
Once more. Over. We’ll do it again.

Just a beginning.

Pass the chemical,
for the American pastoral
Not a country for the Royals.

Let’s go back, to the Grace.
Dear Father, they’re sinner.

To the moon.

All above
A watchtower
No joker
Tell dylan
No tambourin man !

Come again come again !
No ! Next Time.

Right now,
Still need to gather
That mind of mine
thinking about that
Surprise gathering
unlocket it
Took of my hat.
Ready for
The blow-back.

Poor Ophelia, you said it.
The gambler hit.

All in
Chance are
One to five
I only have
Luck this time.

And you, angel,
Wipe out the Dust
With those fairy wings
wind gust.
Throught the Windows
Again, Hitchiker looking for.
Making Widows !

Still, it’s not the time
come
And talk. It will hurt
less
lizard hard eye,
bedroom a mess.

Bring in no priest
banned books all over the place.

Watch for every step,
gain distance from me,
Go away from you.

Still up
mine almost there
Their’s time to spend
life to waste.
no shackles

on wrist.
Welcome, this is not a test
put on weight. The robber
got no vest.

He’s always heading west.

Thunder rolling in the east
maggots and yeast.

Always the same,
Repeating storys
of mother crying
of machins, gunning
Killing,
Bombing.
Rising mister ?
Mojo willing !
Tasty !
Well, billing.

Money for nothin’
The Killer on the road
Gunslingin’

Hooker of my street
Corner.
Hustling with J.Edgar
Hoover.

Over. Not.

Let’s tie another knot !
Hear an other note,
go down and up.

Shining through sherif !
Show, shiner, shining
First photography
aliby !
No you honor,
I’ve condessed
I killed him
jury’s in horror.

Again the window !
Supected spectator
Spectacular and
Sceptical
illusions are not opticals

In my youth
Vigor
Optimum
Continuum
Momentum
Ridin’ bum
Numb
Thumbs press her gum.

Pentobarbital delirium
Til death tear us apart !
Glad to hear from them
the sect
The guru
Solding your gem.

What’s life but a game.

Lights are off, didn’t notice it at first
back at it,
last to run.
Lead the fun
cow-boy empty your gun.

Fragile, fragile !
Careful !
When you move the crate
Treatorous creature !

All on board !
Shot vulture !

Nothing is
Against nature,

Except deprived minds like ours.

Good allure…

Ascending !
Descending…
Deceiving.

Producting
Engenering
Ring
Of
fire.

Situation is dire !

Light spray faster than
A startled cat.

Gaining more fat
Bulking.
For the King.

silence, no more chat.
Dear audience
This is the end

Of the act.

Dim the light.

Slowly.

Dazed and confused.

Down the hatch

Once again, dear friend.

Down and out.

Goodbye.

—

Jaskiers

Tributes to The Lizard King series # 1 | Under the influence

The « Tributes to the Lizard King » series is my hommage to the poems and writings of Jim Morrison.

FYI: I am not fluent in English, I’m trying to be at least. Sorry for the potentials mistakes. Feel free to correct me in the comment section.

—

Wrote under influence

Here I am. Once again I have to take this pill supposed to make me feel good. To stop my sadness and to make me sleep.

Let me tell you, I hate those drugs ! My instinct, when I’ve been prescripted them, told me that’s wasn’t a good thing. I should have followed my instinct. After all, this ancient gift lead us, humanity, to where we are right now.

The first time I took them, they tasted like something… chimical. Almost sour and surely not a moment I look up to when I’m going to sleep.

I accuse them of being responsible for a lot of physical problems. Hair failling out from my scalp.

It mess with my whole body but others, them, they all seems ok after taking it but apparently… the problem is me.

So, once I swallow the pills, I was sure that this drugs will lead me to degradation.

Well I have heard many times, from my gut instinct, from the inside.

So I kept taking it… it was something. I took one a few minutes ago.

telle me the worse situation.

How much of pill consumption do i need ?

This pill also bring non-sens.

This is a strange things, what am I seeing ?

So now, I should really understand.

I dread having to take them.

They burn my brain.

Until the sun rise, that cruel mesure of time. A tic and a toc.

This is messing up everything over there. Why do we need sleep anyway.

Doing it’s things, it’s a very good service !

It’s difficult to write under the influence. Why ? Too hard for you to fully understand. Take one for yourself darling.

They want to kill a loyal customer. I wish I could go and see, but I’m on my way to become a zombi.

I don’t understand why I need this… come on. Why don’t you go inside and leave me alone after consumption ?

What kind of subject do you offer me ?

Vision of tree and fake leather.

Where do you wan’t to lead me ?

What do you want to show me ?

What do you want from me ?

Why are you showing me this ?

Is everything ok ? You burn my brain.

My energy you’re draining.

Too much damage ! I’ll finish in the gutters.

Stop enforcing your laws on me !

Segnõr stop ! I’m only daft, don’t wan’t to die yet !

If only my body could understand. I just want sleep.

How heavy is the mind ? How fragil it is. A simple pill !

The forest is waiting for me. I see the tree, green leaves ! I take some for thee…

How romantic ! Lost in my antics’!

Thanks you Jim for your wisdom,

Because know I’m feeling free !

In my poetry !

Unleash the crazy !

Down, my eyes are bleeding. For trying to escape an heavy mind. Can’t even found solace in the arms of the sleeping god !

Why Am I Even (heaven) here ?

Duality of the two sides of my brain. One telling me : give up yourself my dear. The other ? Too numb, to dumb.

I don’t want it ! But I need it ! Duality, this foe ! You ennemy !

Let me sleep !

But you have to do your deed !

Dead.

Writing till my mind shut off.

A gift for you, dear reader. Kind audience.

This is everyday, a battle for wellness.

A pill, and another one. Waking up in the middle of the night to finish the work. And meeting a strange fellow. A mysterious entity took control. Few hours of sleep and he disapear.

How strange.

Thanks Jim.

To the wizard king !

Keep dancing !

I wish I could… tame my music.

Sorry, I need some sleep.

—

Jaskiers