Miles away...

She was Guanshi'yin,
Mercy in one hand
The other one
To hold her grace.
Most of the time smiling
To the rise of the day,
Or just murmuring at night
Voluptuous secrets
and hypnotizing tunes,
in the white haze of cold.
And numerous have been those
Who’ve been attracted
At the source of her boredom.
And many of them died
Under her merciful hand.

She was Guanshi'yin,
Goddess in a lonely garden,
Populated by ancient nightmares
That she was gold painting
To makes them shiny
At the morning dawn.
Spreading them all around
in multicoloured expectations.
And numerous have been those
Who believed to her little tales.
And many of them died,
Waiting for an impossible end.

She was Guanshi'yin,
And the immoderation
Of her madness made
The domain of the sky
To rise until the earth
And extend the glory
To all yokels.
And from the gall
They called so,
Burst out the final meaning,
The enlighten spirit.

She was Guanshi'yin,
And nobody seemed
to understand her way.
But at the edge of her madness,
She found all the answers
That all mortals
Refused to give.
She known then that nobody could better
Appreciate his ether grace that
The simple beggar
To whom heavens offer a shelter.

Gods’ language has no meaning
For the common mankind’s race

THE MAN WHO WAS DISAPPEARING

A man of nothing
Floating the current
Of a calm river
Is watching above
His head the clouds
That draw the sky
Of long traces
From foggy memories
As a morning killing
The dream with
The cruel reality.

This man is disappearing slowly
From the long current
Of the calm river,
Dreams and hope
Leave him along the way.
For a final destination
Of grey and of clay
That younger hands fired
For him to lay.

The man is now gone...
And no trace of his being
Can now be found
In the echoes...
Only the white shirt he wear
Is still floating
Along the current
Of the calm river
Of his disappeared life...

Miror of meditation

Sur le miroir des méditations
J’irai marchais sans fin,
A la conquête
Des vertus Imaginaires.
Sur le miroir des méditations
Je regarderai mon visage
Devenir un autre
Quand je serais toujours pareil,
Volatile et insoumis,
Curieux et arrogant.
Sur le miroir des méditations,
J’irai et je reviendrai.
La petite lueur est toujours là,
Qui me guide et me perd
Tout en même temps.
Sur le miroir de méditations,
Je tracerai des ronds
Tout autour de moi,
De plus en plus grands,
De plus en plus profonds.
Pour y glisser en secret
Mes silencieuses amertumes.
Sur le miroir des méditations,
J’écouterai le vent
Sortir beat d’une coquille,
Comme la promesse
Du rêve qui sommeil,
Du rêve qui attend…
Sur le miroir des méditations,
Je marche en cercle…

Bonne nuit



On the mirror of the meditations
I shall go walking unlimitedly,
In the conquest
Of Imaginary virtues.
On the mirror of the meditations
I shall look my face
Becoming another one
When I would be always the same,
Fowl and rebellious,
curious and arrogant.
On the mirror of the meditations,
I shall go and I shall return.
The small glow is always there,
Which guides me and loses me
Quite at the same time.
On the mirror of meditations,
I shall draw circles
All around me,
bigger and bigger,
Deeper and deeper.
To glide there in secret
My silent bitterness.
On the mirror of the meditations,
I shall listen to the wind
Coming out of a shell,
As the promise
Of the dream which sleeps,
the dream which waits …
On the mirror of the meditations,
I walk in circles …

Good night

The death angel that dress up of white

And once again, shadows hang around…
Don’t you see their figures of nightmare?
Coz I do. Clearly.
And once again, what seems is not what is.
Truth is lost in the labyrinth of distorted appearances.
Words don’t say anything anymore
At the edge of the love’s crash.
Evil entered my brain as you let him
Flood in your veins.
Chemistry, when unbalanced,
Leads to madness, where artificial realities
Give better results than the clear water.
Satan always dress up in white
And murmur to our ears
Songs of sweet, promises of warmth.
Don’t you know the consequences?
Coz I do. Clearly.
I have seen him one day.
I’ve see his real face, hidden behind
The stand of the innocence.
And I’ve made him angry at me,
To reveal his ugly smile, his crimson haze,
His teeth for poisoned bites.
And today, I can clearly identify
His putrid breath and the scent of Sulphur
That pours out of his nostrils.
Can’t you smell it ?
Coz I do. Clearly.
The worst is that once in you,
He will make you say
“Everything is alright, everything is normal”
But I know when words are saying with two meaning.
One being the appearance of peace.
And one is the tortured truth.
God and Mephistopheles got the same song,
But with opposite purpose.
One is to free yourself from the chain of life.
One is to corrupt your heart.
Don't you feel the weight of the yoke?
Coz I do. Clearly.

Note:

Evil is a concept with a true reality in our life.
But no question to see him as a “death angel” or a “horny beast”.
Deregulation in the energy drive the chain of events (butterfly’s effect) to a chaotic turn.
And this deregulation most of the time, come from lies we do made for self-arrangements with the reality, instead of correcting what’s wrong in our life.
Lie is not only concept. It is an element we do introduce in the chain of events that have real impact on all what is to come.
The concept of “lie” is much larger than the simple untruth.
It also include what we hide, what we don’t say, what we don’t do that must be done.
An example to understand:
I am very lazy with all what concern the administration paper, being always late to answer to their nonstop request.
That brings me a lot of troubles with it.
But that’s not all.
It give me a feeling of culpability that do influence my whole behaviour. Bringing troubles in all my relationship with others. Making my mind more unstable and my brain to be deregulated in its chemistry.

The impact on my energy have impact on the energy surrounding me, and so, I engage myself in a deregulated chain of events.
What’s about lies in between lovers, in between parents and children, etc...?
All lies of any kind drive irremediably to a deregulation...
And so open the Evil’s path.

M.U.T.I.L.A.T.I.O.N

Il y a des croyances qui ne mènent qu’à l’avilissement.
Il y a des pratiques qui nous affublent d’une honte sans nom.
Il y a des gens, quel qu’ils soient, quel que soit leur culture, leur tradition,
Qui ramènent l’humanité dans sa plus abjecte réalité.
Il y a de jeunes enfants que l’ont mutile, sans anesthésie,
Juste pour satisfaire le stupide obscurantisme de certains.

Combien de ces enfants sont mort, suite à ces mutilations ?
Combien de ces enfants pleureront toutes leurs vies
sur cet instant de pure horreur pour eux.
Aucun mot ne peut-être assez fort pour dire toute l’aversion
Que peuvent m’inspirer ces sous-êtres souvent aveuglés
Par de fausses interprétations de leur religion.
Et quand bien même un Dieu hypothétique pourrait
Prôner de tels préceptes, alors ce ne peut-être que le diable en personne.
Car je ne vois aucune autre raison qui pourrait faire qu’une mère
Accepte que l’on mutila ainsi son propre enfant.

Tout cela est abject à en vomir.

Les mutilations génitales, féminines et masculines, sont un crime contre la race humaine.

***************************************************

There are beliefs which lead only to the degradation.
There are practices decking us out of a shame without name.
There are people, whatever they are, whatever is their culture, their tradition,
Who bring back humanity in his more contemptible reality.
There are young children that have mutilates it, without anesthesia,
Just to satisfy the stupid obscurantism of some.

How many of these children die, following these mutilations?
How much these children will cry for all their lives
over this moment of pure horror for them.
No word can be enough extreme to say all the aversion
What can inspire to me these under-beings often plugged
By false interpretations of their religion.
And even though some hypothetical God could
preach such precepts, then it can be only the devil himself.

Because I do not see any other reason which could make one mother
To accept such mutilated to his own child.

All that is abject to vomit some.

The genital mutilations, female and male, are a crime against the human race.



NOTE:

Islam

In Islamic texts, FGC is referred to as khafḍ (Arabic: خفض‎) or khifaḍ (Arabic: خِفَض‎). Female genital cutting predates Islam.In Saudi Arabia, in the area known as the Hijaz, where Islam originated, FGC was already being practiced during the lifetime of Muhammad. Female genital cutting is not commanded by the Qur'an and is not practiced by the majority of Muslims. In Egypt, mufti Sheikh Ali Gomaa stated: "The traditional form of excision is a practice totally banned by Islam because of the compelling evidence of the extensive damage it causes to women's bodies and minds."

Wikipidia

NOTE: I do respect any religion, any faith, any philosophy, for few they respect humanity...

I do not condemn here the Moslem faith, but certain practices were wrongly made in the name of God

France, where are you going ?

France, France, où vas-tu ?
Je te vois dériver
Vers des déchets d’humanité,
T’enfoncer dans la fange de la peur
Comme des sables mouvants.
Tu vas suffoquer !
Tu suffoque déjà…
De ces milliers de tes enfants
Que tu laisses indigents
Comme des malpropres
Sur le bord de tes routes.
Routes que tu as sécurisées,
C’est sûr !
Moins de mort dans des accidents de voiture
Mais combien vont mourir
D’un accident de la vie ?
Tant tes voies sont devenues
Une jungle où seuls les nantis
Verront la lumière du jour,
Et les autres la torpeur de tes ombres.

France, France, où sombres-tu ?
Je te vois agonir sans un râle
Sinon celui de ceux à qui tu ôtes la joie.
Tu massacres tes poètes innombrables
Et tu invites Bigard à voir le pape… !
Mais tu craches sur la voix
De tes banlieues qui s’enlisent,
De tes chômeurs qui agonisent,
De tes enfants qui ne sont plus assez bien
Pour écouter leur mots d’amour.
Car ils t’aiment, t’aimaient…
Et tu les étouffes sous l’oreiller
De ton inflation sécuritaire,
De tes impôts inversement répartis,
De tes lois injustement décrétées…
Et plus les mômes jouent du couteau
à la maternelle,
et plus tu leur apprends la violence,
la vraie,
Celle qui brise à jamais les cœurs…


France, France, où es-tu ?
Je ne te vois plus,
Je ne t’entends plus…
Tu n’es plus là ;
Mais en enfer.
Là où t’a conduit le nabot
Et sa première dame dérisoire…
Alors je te quitte,
Comme je quitterai celle qui me trahit,
Je m’en vais au loin,
Au loin de tes fétides allusions
Fascistes à peine voilées…
Mais tu es morte désormais…
Dans mon cœur
De t’être toi-même infestée
Du cancer de l’horrible domination…

Tu vas me manquer…

$$$$$$$

France, France, where do you go?
I see you drifting away
Towards waste of humanity,
Sinking in the mire of fear
As one quicksand.
You are going to suffocate!
You already suffocate …
Of these thousands of your children
Whom you leave indigent
As swine
On the edge of your roads.
Roads that you secured, For sure!
Less death in car crashes
But how much are going to die
From a life crash?
So much your ways became
A jungle where only the well-to-do
Will see the daylight,
And the others the torpor of your shadows.


France, France, where do you sink?
I see you reviling without a groan
If not of those to whom you remove joy.
You slaughter your uncountable poets
And you invite Bigard to see the pope!
But you spit at the voice
Of your suburbs which sink,
Of your unemployed persons in death pangs,
Of your children not well enough any more
to listen to them words of love.
Because they love you, loved you
And you suppress them under the pillow
Of your security inflation,
your taxes conversely distributed,
your inequitably decreed laws …
And the more the kids play the knife to the nursery school,
and the more you teach them the violence,
the true one,
The one which breaks hearts forever …


France, France, where are you?
I do not see you any more,
I do not hear you any more …
You are not any more there,
But in hell.
There where led you the dwarf
And his derisory first lady …
Then I leave you,
As I shall leave the one who betrays me,
I go away far off,
Far off of your fetid
Fascist allusions
Less veiled …
But you died henceforth …
In my heart,
to have infested yourself
With the cancer of the horrible dominion …

I am going to miss you …