Silence. le lundi 12 septembre 2005

Silence. le lundi 12 septembre 2005 par Carla L.

Sauvage enfance,
Tu Es l'arbre au treillis de verdure,
Tu Es le vert et tu Es la ramure,
Tu t'échappes, tu te faufiles,
Tu t'effarouches, tu t'absentes,
Ecoute le vent et ses murmures :

***

« Le silence ne prend pas en traître,
Seules les pensées dites blessent ou rongent,
Dans les profondeurs du cœur, tu es maître
Du domaine des maux et du pays des songes »

***

Sauvage enfance,
Le rire blondit ta chevelure,
Les larmes polissent ton armure,
Tu t'échappes, tu te faufiles,
Tu t'effarouches, tu t'absentes…


Jeux themes, vendredi 9 septembre 2005 par Alain 93


des mots sans horizon
poussés avec ardeur
à l'extérieur du coeur
bien souvent sans raison
comme sortis de prison
évadés par erreur
de tant d'années de peur
recherchant sa maison
bravant la dérision
navigant dans l'horreur
de voir au fil des heures
la fin de l'horizon



La violence des mots, vendredi 9 septembre 2005 par Frère Pascally

creuse-moi un ermitage
cagibi inconnu et caché
dans le ventre d'un baobab
sur les sables brûlants
d'un lointain désert.

***

efface toute la lumière
de mon Eden intérieur
de cieux nébuleux de l'intelligence
que tombe la nuit de l'entendement
la passivité crue de l'imagination.

***

mon loup affamé de lettres
enfermé dans une cage en fer
sera dressé avec rigueur
dans l'épargne des mots
un long jeûne des pensées.

***

les mots, ces bêtes voraces
poursuivent le jeune poète
brûlent l'énergie de ses mainssèchent l'encre de sa plume
et s'imposent ...

***

je cherche un refuge
au-delà de ce rixe
la paix et le reposdans la quiétude
mais quand et où ?





Coquillage, jeudi 8 septembre 2005 par Alain Hannecart

les femmes qui aiment séduire se parent de beaux bijoux
Plaisantent des hommes qui mettent leur cœur en détresse
Elles succombent aux caresses de la brise qui joue
Elles s'intéressent à nous autant qu'à des cailloux
Et se prennent à rêver quand elles se font des tresses



Mercredi 7 septembre 2005 par Jérôme


Le jour se lève dans l'habitude
Six millards de paires de pieds et de mains
Le courage se forge dans l'inquiètude
Ils s'occupent d'édifier un visage pour demain
De vieilles rides sur la figures de l'homme
Quatre milles ans de mémoire au creu des reins
Ecrite dans toutes les langues de l'histoire
Sur sa peau d'incoercible chagrin
Lui même ne sait pas lire cette somme
Dont le mot définirait son genre "Humain"
Courage fils de l'histoire !
Tes pères se sont perdus sur milles et milles chemins
Tu émerges dans un béton de nuit noire
Mais malgré tout le monde est entre tes mains
Les limites de la réalité
Sont les limites de ton imaginaire
Portes bien haut de ton rêve
La lumière

Faites-moi l'aumone, mercredi 7 septembre 2005 par Bibi


Donnez-moi
un verre
moitié vide
moitié rempli
d'au-delà
plein d'étoiles
de lunes
et de soleils
pour avaler
les pillules
de mon chapelet
de lumières bleues.
Plongé dans l'ombre
au beau milieu
du missel
se repose
mon scapulaire
d'images surréelles
des saintes anodines.
La madonne
souriant
tendrement
à la virginité
d'un silence de mort
berce encore les émois.
Faites-moi l'aumone
d'un verre d'au-delà
tout plein d'étoiles
et les maux de mes mots
redeviendront
des bougies de prière
aux anges chevauchant
les souffrances
et les pleurs du bonheur.



Sans Titre, mercredi 7 septembre 2005 par EdgarJ.Ford


DERNIER ETE

I

Arborescence fragile délaissée l'Humanité
Autour de laquelle clamant leur souveraineté
S'articulent de misérables saisons, engendrant
Des (mé)créanciers vaincus malheureux tyrans
Nababs sans statues d'une avidité accrue.
Au firmament la constellation apparue.
Le ciel fait sa révolution, sublimité
Une voûte céleste constellée d'aérolithes morts,
Laissant place à des étoiles étincelantes, ports
D'embarcation pour un été démérité.
Au firmament le renouveau de la clarté,
Renaissance où préside désormais l'astre solaire,
En despote majestueux son règne à parfaire
Brille brille étincelle d'un bonheur réinventé.
A ce vague océan je me suis confié tant
Calme par moment et tempétueux souvent
Avec ses déferlantes, ses houles, ses profusions.
Jadis trésor de la terre nous la baptisions
Douce liqueur maritime ! Enivrant sans cesse
Des voix de plus en plus fortes émergent dans l'esprit
Comme un flot de notes excitant l'ouie de caresses !
Sirènes ! Entends les sirènes ! Précieux en est le prix !

II

Dans la brûlante nuit estivale le silence
Est maintenant le propriétaire des lieux.
Le vaisseau pillé n'est plus le riche, le prétentieux,
Bâtiment aux canons dorés voguant vers la France.
Sous le crépuscule disparu les étoiles dansent
A bord les quelques survivants boivent et pansent
Leurs plaies alors que les côtes se rapprochent. Rompu
Et blessé lors de l'abordage je n'entends guère plus
Que mes pensées s'entrechoquant sereinement
Et le flot de notes disparaissant doucement.
Allongé sur la proue souillée par le sombre sang
Je lève maintenant les yeux vers un vaste azur
Confondant de beauté où la nuit douce et pure
M'étreint tendrement et le Grand Chien m'attend.



Liberté. mardi 6 septembre 2005 par Elodie


A tous les esclaves qui se croient libres.
A l'amoureux transis qui se pétrifie sur lui-même.
Au travailleur acharné qui oublie d'ôter ses ornières.
A l'adolescent assoiffé d'une identité de marques.
Au consommateur repus en quête de nouveaux besoins.
Au fou qui se cache derrière un masque social.
Au moraliste qui fait taire son effrayante folie.
Au moins que rien qui noie son génie dans une liqueur de poire.
Au plus que tout qui substitue à son moins que rien, une nuée d'artifices.
Au poète désoeuvré qui se retire du monde.
Au solitaire qui dépend des autres.
A l'altruiste misanthrope.
A l'humaniste scellé sur son fauteuil.
Au sauveur de l'humanité qui ne voit même plus ses proches crever.
Au dépressif psychologue.
A l'homme incarcéré derrière des barreaux théoriques.
Au large d'esprit qui s'éborgne au monde.
Au cynique qui vomit sur les autres sa propre laideur.
A l'intolérant qui n'existe que dans le vide de son égo.
Au conjoint comblé devenu fantôme dans son propre foyer.
A celui qui aime en refusant l'amour.
A celui qui n'aime plus mais qui reste.
Au sentimental qui ravale ses pleurs et déchire son cœur.
Au robuste qui s'effondre sur lui-même.
Au penseur claustrophobe, égaré dans son esprit.
Au beau parleur atteint de surdité.
A l'écrivain bourré de principes dictés.
Au chanteur qui tourne en boucle dans un refrain.
Au peintre qui ne se mélange pas les pinceaux et cultive l'art du monochrome.
A l'architecte de son temps bétonné.
A tout ceux qui étouffent les voies de l'imagination.
A tout ceux qui ne savent pas écouter leur révolte intérieure.
A tout ceux qui se rétractent lorsqu'il faudrait foncer.
A tout ceux qui par peur du noir fuient la lumière.
A tout ceux qui deviennent néant à force de certitudes.
Au déserteur du réel qui s'évade en esprit mais sonne le repli à l'orée de l'action.
A ce remarquable ferronnier qui excelle dans l'art de fabriquer ses propres chaînes.
A l'imposteur qui renie sa nature profonde.
Au plus bel Hypocrite que porte le monde.
A l'homme !

Tu enjambes les vallées, lundi 5 septembre par Devine

Danse comète
Elan blanche
cavalcades et tressailles
Tes hanches volent la terre
en éclat secouent les sombres
là où ton corps sait battre
tout au cœur tu me sauves
D'éloignée je témoigne, tu viens me reconnaître
en tes yeux le passage obligé
des pavés se soulèvent pour suivre tes pieds,
des phales secrets millénaires tentent leurs percées
Tes seins clament la discorde :
Tu enjambes les vallées
Promise, resque sournoise, tu domptes les allées
sans fin ni loi sage sauvage ta croupe folle en l'avers qui m'assaille
effet de fin sans faille ni abord
Fait de restes tu m'assoies
Danse comète
Elan blanche
cavalcades et tressailles
Tes hanches volent la terre
en éclat secouent les sombres
là où ton corps sait battre
tout au cœur tu me sauves


J'ai crié ton nom, le dimanche 4 septembre 2005 par Violette Poulin


J'ai crié ton nom
Comme on chante à tue tête,
À cœur nu
À corps nu
Et mon cœur a aimé
Comme on aime pour toujours.
Je t'ai bu
Comme on boit à une source,
À main nue
À corps nu
Et mon cœur assoiffé
S'est trouvé rassasié
Et mon cœur a aimé
Comme on aime pour toujours.
Je t'ai respiré
Comme on respire une fleur,
À main nue,
À corps nu
Et j'ai fermé les yeux
Pour garder la douceur
Et mon cœur a aimé
Comme on aime pour toujours.
Tu as crié « maman »
Comme on retrouve la vie
Dans ce printemps naissant,
Moi je t'ai vu dansé
À cœur nu,
À corps nu
Et j'ai crié ton nom
Comme on chante à tue-tête,
Et mon cœur a aimé
Comme on aime pour toujours.
Et mon cœur a soufflé
Comme souffle le vent
Et mon cœur s'est gonflé
Comme se gonfle le sein,
Et mon cœur a coulé
Comme coule une source
Et mon cœur a aimé
Comme on aime pour toujours.



LE DAIMON ( Nietzsche, Van Gogh), dimanche 4 septembre 2005 par J-R

C'est à cette époque aussi, je crois, qu'un autre amant
De l'ombre quoi qu'éclatant -,
Se jeta au cou de ses frères dans une petite ruelle
Pavée et brillante du nord de l'Italie,
Et qu'on voulu dompter.
Depuis, les hommes rares se souviennent, et goûtent encore
Les quelques larmes que le dément pleura sur le cheval.

S'il n'y a que les fous qui empêchent qu'on batte les chevaux
Alors…c'est terrible…

Oui C'est bien en 1888 que tu revêtis ton gilet tournoyant Vincent,
Multicolore
Tes voisins de siècle t'ont ignoré, ainsi que la douleur
Tant de nuit je t'ai aperçu, seul à recueillir les blessures d'une couleur ;
A pleurer sur un chevalet

A écouter l'appel d'un piano noir.

Cette année encore, que tu avais le pouce encarcanné
De teintes profondes
De mélanges, de pinceaux De tentatives…

Ah les communions que l'on pleure, qu'on appelle, la nuit
Dans la solitude, et qui retournent parfois au silence.

Ils ne t'ont pas vu ! Ils ont ignoré l'oeil qui pleure à mon cœur
Qui baigne, là-bas dans le varech des océans indomptés,
D'écume et de fureur
L'œil que tu voulus plonger d

결과 (영어) 1:

Silence. Monday, September 12, 2005 by Carla. Wild child,You are the tree to the mat of greenery,You are green and you're antlers,You you drop, you you faufilesYou effarouches you, you you absent,Listen to the wind and its murmurs:***"Silence does not traitor,Only so-called thoughts hurt or gnaw,In the depths of the heart, you are masterThe domain aches and the country of dreams.***Wild child,Laughter blondit your hair,Tears Polish your armor,You you drop, you you faufilesYou effarouches you, you you absent...Games themes, Friday, September 9, 2005 by Alain 93 words without horizon pushed hard outside the heart Although often without reason as out of prison escapees by mistake so many years of fear looking for its home braving the mockery navigating in horror see over hours the end of the horizonThe violence of the words, Friday September 9, 2005 by brother Pascallydig me a Hermitagecagibi unknown and hiddenin the belly of a Baobab Treeon the hot sandsof a distant desert.***Clears all the lightmy domestic Edenhazy skies of intelligencethat fall the night of mindpassivity raw imagination.***My Wolf hungry letterslocked in an iron cagewill be prepared with rigorin the savings of the wordsa long fast thoughts.***the words, these voracious beastscontinue the young poetburn the energy of its ink from his pen mainssechentand necessary...***I seek a refugebeyond this Brawlpeace and tranquility reposdansbut when and where? Shell, Thursday, September 8, 2005 by Alain Hannecartwomen who love seduce is parent of beautiful jewelry Joke men who put their heart in distress They succumb to the caresses of the breeze that plays They are interested in us as well as pebbles And take themselves to dream when they are braidsWednesday, September 7, 2005 by Jerome The day dawns in the habitSix billions of pairs of feet and handsCourage forged in anxietyThey deal with to build a face for tomorrowOld wrinkle on the figures of humanFour thousand years of memory to the creu of kidneysWritten in all languages historyOn her skin of unstoppable sorrowHe even can't read this sumWhich the word would define its 'Human' kindCourage son!Your fathers were lost on miles and miles pathsYou come in a dark concreteBut despite everything the world is in your handsThe limits of realityAre the limits of your imaginationHigh doors of your dreamLightMake me alms, Wednesday, September 7, 2005 by Bibi Give mea glasshalf emptyhalf-filledbeyondfull of starsmoonsand Sunsto swallowpillsMy rosaryof blue lights.Immersed in the shadein the midstof the MissalrestsMy scapularsurreal imagesbenign saintes.Our Ladysmilingtenderlyvirginitya silence of deathstill rocking the thrills.Make me almsa glass of beyondfull of starsand the evils of my wordsbecomeprayer candlesthe angels ridingthe sufferingand tears of happiness. Untitled, Wednesday, September 7, 2005 by EdgarJ.Ford LAST SUMMERINeglected fragile tree humanityAutour which claiming their sovereigntyRevolve of miserable seasons, causing(Me) creditors defeated unfortunate tyrantsMoguls without increased greed statues.In the appeared constellation firmament.The sky made its revolution, sublimityA celestial dome studded of dead fireballLeaving room for sparkling stars, portsBoat for a summer unworthy.In the firmament of the revival of clarity,Renaissance where now chairs the solar star,Despot in majestic his reign to perfectShining shining spark of a reinvented happiness.At this ocean wave I me am entrusted bothStormy and quiet at times oftenWith its breaking, its swells, its profusions.Once Treasury of the Earth we choose theSweet liqueur maritime! Drunk constantlyMore and more strong voices emerge in the spiritAs a stream of notes exciting hearing of hugs!Sirens! Hear the sirens! Precious is the price!IIIn the hot summer night silenceNow is the owner of the premises.The plundered ship is more rich, the pretentious.Building the Golden guns cruised to the France.Under the defunct twilight stars danceOn board the few survivors drink and lickingTheir wounds so that the sides are close. BrokenAnd injured during the collision I hear little moreThat my thoughts rattling around serenelyAnd the flow of notes disappearing slowly.Lying on the bow soiled with dark bloodI now raise the eyes to a vast azureConfusing beauty where the night sweet and pureHug me tenderly and Canis awaits me. Freedom. Tuesday, September 6, 2005 by Elodie A all slaves who believe themselves free.A rascally lover who petrifies on itself.Hard worker who forgets to remove his ruts.A crazed adolescent of a brand identity.The consumer sated in search of new needs.To the fool who hides behind a social mask.To the moralist who silenced his scary madness.At least nothing that drowns his genius in a PEAR liqueur.More than any who overrides his less than nothing, a cloud of fireworks.The aimless poet who withdraws from the world.Solitaire who depends on others.At the altruistic misanthrope.A humanist sealed on his chair.To the saviour of humanity that sees even more relatives die.To the psychologist depressive.A man imprisoned behind theoretical bars.Off of mind which is éborgne in the world.The cynic who vomit on the other his own ugliness.At the intolerant that exists only in the vacuum of his ego.The packed spouse become ghost in his own home.Those who like refusing the love.At one who loves more, but still.To the sentimentalist who swallows her tears and rips his heart.To the robust which collapses on itself.In the claustrophobic thinker, lost in his mind.The talker reached deaf.A writer stuffed dictated principles.The singer running loop in a chorus.The painter who does not mix brushes and cultivates the art of monochrome.The architect of his time at concrete.All those who stifle channels of imagination.All those who do not know to listen to their inner revolt.All those who retract when should darken.All those fleeing for fear of the black light.All those who become nil by the dint of certainties.To the deserter of the real who escapes in spirit but sounds the retreat on the edge of the action.At this remarkable ironworker who excels in the art of making its own channels.At the impostor who denies its profound nature.In the most beautiful worn Hypocrite the world.A man!Straddling the valleys, Monday, September 5 by guess Dance CometWhite Elkcavalcades and tressaillesYour hips are flying the Earthshattered shake the darkwhere your body know beatat the heart you save meOf remote I testify, you come to recognize mein your eyes the obligatorycobblestones are raised to follow your feet,age-old secret phales try their breakthroughsYour breasts claim discord:Straddling the valleysPromise, lmost sneaky, you domptes the aisleswithout end or wild wise Act your crazy rump in the obverse that assails meeffect of end without fault or firstFact remains you assoies meDance CometWhite Elkcavalcades and tressaillesYour hips are flying the Earthshattered shake the darkwhere your body know beatat the heart you save meI shouted your name, Sunday, September 4, 2005 by Violette PoulinI shouted your nameAs it sings to kills head;Naked heartNaked bodyAnd my heart has lovedAs we love forever.I drank youAs we drink to a source,With bare handsNaked bodyAnd my thirsty heartLay satiatedAnd my heart has lovedAs we love forever.I breathed youAs we breathe a flower,With bare hands,.Naked bodyAnd I closed my eyesTo keep the softnessAnd my heart has lovedAs we love forever.You have yelled "MOM."As we find lifeIn this early spring,Me I saw you dancingNaked heart,Naked bodyAnd I shouted your nameAs it sings loudly,And my heart has lovedAs we love forever.And my heart has blownAs the wind blowsAnd my heart is filledAs swells breast,And my heart sankAs flows a sourceAnd my heart has lovedAs we love forever.THE DAIMON (Nietzsche, Van Gogh), Sunday, September 4, 2005 by J - R It was at this time also, I believe, only another lover From shade whatever shiny-,. Threw himself at the neck of his brothers in a small alley Paved and shiny the Italy North,. And what one wanted to tame. Since few men remember, and taste yet A few tears that the demented wept on the horse.If only the fools who keep on beating the horses Then... it is terrible...Yes it is good in 1888 you revetted your vest gyrating Vincent, Multicolor Your neighbours by century have ignored you, and pain Both night I saw you, only to collect the wounds of a color; A crying on an easelListen to the call of a black piano.This year again, you had your thumb encarcanne Deep shades Blends, brushes of attempts...Ah the communions that are crying, called, the night In the solitude, and who sometimes return to silence.They have not seen you! They ignored the eye that cries in my heart Who bathes in the untamed Ocean kelp, there Froth and fury The eye that you desired plunge d

결과 (영어) 2:

Silence. Monday, 12 September 2005 by Carla L. Wild Child, You Are the tree in green fatigues, You Are the green and you Es antlers, Thou escapes, do you snuck, You're scared, you absent yourself , Listen to the wind and whispers: *** "Silence does not support traitor Only injure or gnawing thoughts saying, In the depths of the heart, you are master From field of ailments and the land of dreams" *** Wild childhood Laughter blondit your hair Tears polish your armor, Thou escapes, you snuck you, You're scared you missing you ... themes Games, Friday, September 9, 2005 by Alain 93 without horizon words pushed with hard on the outside of the heart often without reason as a prison out escaped by mistake so many years of fear seeking his house braving derision browsing in horror to see the hours the end of the horizon Violence words, Friday, September 9, 2005 by Brother Pascally digs me a hermitage unknown closet and hidden in the belly of a baobab tree on the burning sands of a distant desert. *** erases all the light of my inner Eden nebulous heavens of intelligence that falls the night of the understanding raw passivity of the imagination. *** my hungry wolf letters locked up in an iron cage will be rigorously trained in saving words long fasting thoughts. *** words, these voracious beasts pursue the young poet burn the energy of its mainssèchent ink of his pen and necessary ... *** I take refuge beyond the brawl peace and reposdans tranquility but when and where? Shell, Thursday, September 8, 2005 by Alain Hannecart women who love to seduce are adorned with beautiful jewelry joking men who put their heart in distress, they succumb to the caresses of the breeze which plays They are interested in we much as pebbles and are taken when they are dreaming braids Wednesday, September 7, 2005 by Jérôme The sun rises in the habit Six billions of pairs of feet and hands Courage is forged in the concern they deal to build a face for tomorrow Old wrinkles on the human figures Four thousand years of memory creu kidney Written in every language of the story on its skin uncontrollable grief even He does not know read this amount of which would define the word a kind "Human" Courage son of history! Thy fathers have lost miles and miles of paths you emerged into a black night concrete But still the world is in your hands The limits of reality are the limits of your imagination loudly doors of your dream light Make me alms, Wednesday, September 7, 2005 by Bibi Give me a glass half empty half full of beyond full of stars moons and suns to swallow the pills my rosary of blue lights. Immersed in the shade in the middle of the missal resting my shoulder from surreal images of holy innocuous. The Madonna smiled tenderly virginity of dead silence still rocks the emotions. Do me the alms of a glass of beyond all full of stars and sore my words again become prayer candles angels riding the suffering and tears of happiness. Without Title, Wednesday, September 7 2005 EdgarJ.Ford LAST SUMMER I Fragile Tree forsaken humanity around claiming that their sovereignty in miserable seasons revolve, generating Des (mé) creditors unhappy tyrants defeated Nawabs without statues of increased greed. At the firmament appeared constellation . The sky is his revolution, sublimity a sky dotted with dead fireballs, Leaving room for sparkling stars, ports D'boat for a summer unworthy. In the sky the renewal of clarity, Renaissance which now chairs the solar star, In despot majestic hone his reign Brille shining spark of a reinvented happiness. At this ocean wave I told me so quiet at times and often tempestuous With surging, its waves, its profusion. Formerly treasure of the earth we baptisions Douce maritime liquor! Exhilarating constantly voices increasingly strong emerging in the mind like a flood of exciting Notes hearing caresses! Sirens! Hear the sirens! Precious is the price! II In hot summer night silence Now is the owner. The The ship is looted richest, pretentious building with golden guns sailing to France. Under the twilight disappeared the stars dance Aboard the few survivors drinking and licking their wounds while the ribs come together. Broken and injured in the collision I hear little more what my thoughts rattling serenely And the flood of notes disappearing slowly. Lying on the bow stained by the dark blood I now look up a vast azure beauty Confusing where the sweet and pure night me and tenderly hugged Canis waiting. Freedom. Tuesday, September 6, 2005 by Elodie A all slaves who believe themselves free. A bashful lover who petrifies on itself. In hard worker who forgets to remove his rut. A thirsty for identity marks teenager . In consumer satiated looking for new needs. At crazy behind a social mask. In moralist who silenced his fearsome madness. At least nothing that drowns his genius in a pear liqueur. In more than anything which substitutes its less than nothing, a fireworks cloud. At aimless poet who withdraws from the world. In loner who depends on others. A selfless misanthrope. In sealed his chair humanist. In savior of humanity that sees even his relatives die. At depressive psychologist. A man imprisoned behind bars theoretical. In broadminded who éborgne the world. At the cynic who vomits on others his own ugliness. At that intolerant n exists only in the vacuum of his ego. At spouse became filled ghost in his own home. To him who loves refusing love. To him who loves not but still. At sentimental who swallows her tears and rips his heart. In robust that collapses on itself. In claustrophobic thinker, lost in his mind. At talker deaf. A writer full of driven principles. At the singer's looping in a chorus. At painter which does not mix brushes and cultivates the art of monochrome. In concrete architect of his time. To all those that stifle the ways of the imagination. To all those who can not listen to their inner revolt. At any those that retract when should go for it. To all those who are fleeing for fear of the dark light. To all those who become nothingness certainties force. In real deserter who escaped in mind but sounds the decline in edge of the action. At this outstanding blacksmith who excels in the art of making their own chains. At the impostor who denies his true nature. In the nicest Hypocrite that carries the world. A man! You spanned the valleys , Monday, September 5 by Devine Dance comet Elan white cavalcades and tressailles Your hips fly earth in glory shake the dark where your body knows beating at heart you save me From far I bear witness, you just recognize me in your eyes the passage forced pavers are raised to keep your feet on phales secrets millennia trying their breakthroughs Your breasts proclaim discord: You spanned valleys Promise, Backstab lmost you rulest the aisles without end or your crazy wild wise law hipped which the obverse assails me end effect flawless first nor Made remnants tu assoies comet Dance Elan white cavalcades and tressailles Your hips fly earth in glory shake the dark where your body knows beating at heart you save me I shouted Your name, Sunday, September 4, 2005 by Violette Poulin I screamed your name as you sing out loud, At heart naked At naked body and my heart has loved as we love forever. I've drunk As drinking to a source, In barehanded At naked body and my thirsty heart Has found satiated And my heart has loved as we love forever. I've breathed As you breathe a flower At bare hand, AT naked body and I ' closed my eyes to keep the sweetness and my heart has loved as we love forever. You cried out "mama" As we find life in this emerging spring, I danced I saw you In bare heart, TO naked body and I called out your name as you sing loudly, and my heart has loved as we love forever. And my heart blew As the wind blows And my heart swelled as swells the breast, And my heart sank As a source flowing And my heart has loved as we love forever. THE DAIMON (Nietzsche, Van Gogh), Sunday, September 4, 2005 by JR It was at this time also, I believe, another lover From shadow what qu'éclatant - If cast on the neck of his brothers in a small alley Paved and brilliant northern Italy, And we wanted to tame. Since then, few men remember and even taste the tears that belies wept on the horse. If there is that fools that keep that bat horses So ... it's terrible ... Yes, it is in 1888 that you donned your vest whirling Vincent, Multicolored Tes Neighbours century have ignored you, as well as pain So many night I saw you, only to collect the wounds of a color; A crying on an easel To listen to the call of a black piano. This year that you had the thumb encarcanné Deep hues De mixtures, brushes From attempts ... Ah communions we cry, called the night in solitude, and sometimes return to silence. They have you not seen ! They ignored the eye that weeps in my heart who bathes there in the untamed ocean kelp, D'froth and fury The eye that you wanted to dive

결과 (영어) 3:

in the silence. on monday, september 12, 2005 by carla l. "wild child, you are the tree in green mesh, you are the green and you are the branches, you escape, you sneaking in, you effarouches, do you not listen to the wind, and whispered:" * * *
"silence is not a traitor, you hurt people, or only the thoughts, in the depths of the heart, you're the boss.in the area of pain and the dreamland "" * * * "wild child" laughter, tears blondit your hair, polish your armor, you escape, you sneaking in, you effarouches you absent, etc. games themes, friday, september 9, 2005 by alain 93



with words but hard to going outside the heart, often for no reason, such as out of jail and escaped by mistake.after so many years of looking for his house in fear and derision, sailing in the horror of the hour, the end of the year



the violent words, friday, september 9, 2005 by brother pascally
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i a hermitage in unknown and hidden in the belly. a tree on the burning sands, a remote desert. "* * *" covers all the light of my garden inside.hazy sky, intelligence that is the night of the mind, the passive flooding of imagination. "* * *" the hungry wolf "locked up in a cage (iron) will be developed vigorously in the words, a long fast, saving thoughts." * * * "the words, the ravenous beasts) continued the young poet, burn the energy from her mainssèchent his pen and ink is required." * * * "i'm looking for a shelter, beyond the fight "peace and quiet, but reposdans when and where?





shell, thursday, 8 september 2005, by alain hannecart
women who love to play nice jewelry, carpets, men who put their heart in distress, they are to the touch of the breeze, which show they are interested in us, as well as rocks.and when they are dreaming is braided



- wednesday, september 7, 2005 by
the day in used, six billion pairs of feet and hands, the courage is forged in the matter, they are building a face tomorrow, on old wrinkles the figures for four thousand years of human memory in advance of kidney, writing in all the official languages of the history.skin of profound sorrow, he even doesn't know how to read it. the word "human" in defining its courage, son of history. your parents are lost on the road, miles and miles, you end up in a dark night, but the concrete in the world is in your hands, the limits of reality are the limits of your imagination and your dream are high. the light "give me a coin, wednesday, september 7, 2005 by bb
give me a glass half empty, half full, and above, full of stars and moons and suns, and swallowing the pills in my series of blue lights. put in the shadow. constitution: in the middle of my shoulder, "is the holy innocent images surréelles. madonna, smiling, sweet, the virgin, dead silence.under the agitation. give me the coin. a glass of above, full of stars and the evils of my words, they "prayer candles and the angels on the pain and the tears of happiness.



and, wednesday, 7 september 2005, by edgarj ford



i
last summer" humanity "fragile tree, around which claims to sovereignty.in miserable seasons (lp), and the unfortunate tyrants, moguls and creditors. more statues of greed. in the sky the constellation emerged. the sky's revolution, sublimity and sky studded with fireball died, leaving room for sparkling stars, ports, vessels for summer not good enough. in the sky, the renewal of the clarity.the sun is now reborn as, in his reign. (improve) is a bright spark of happiness made. this wave ocean i confided both quiet and storm powers, often with the waves, the waves, like protrusions. once the treasure of the earth. we choose. marine liquor. like always.the voice of high spirit, as an emerging stream of exciting call notes it. the mermaids. hear the sirens. value is the price. (a) (ii), in the hot summer night, the silence is the owner of the premises. the ship raided is not rich, the "golden building cannons, sailing to france.in the twilight, the stars are dancing on the missing, the survivors have their wounds and heal when the ribs are close. broken and injured in the collision, i can not, my thoughts are entrechoquant calmly and gently moving the flow of notes, lying on the bow and defiled by the dark blood, i raise your eyes to a broad sky.the night beauty like sweet and pure, i take love waiting for me and the dog.



. tuesday, 6 september 2005 by elodie

all the slaves that are free and the lovelorn is frozen by itself. the hard worker who forgets to remove the tracks. a teenager lost a brand identity. in search of new consumer satisfied the needs.the crazy, hiding behind a mask. "the moralist who keep his frightful madness. at least it drowns his genius in a pear liqueur. in most the thing that substitutes a swarm of fireworks. the poet idle withdrawing from the world. solitaire, which depends on the other. the selfless misanthrope. the humanist sealed on his chair.the savior of mankind, which is more close to the depressed dead. a man in prison psychologist. the theory behind bars. the open-minded who might just gouge his eyes out in the world. the cynic who's on the other its own ugliness. the tolerance that exists in the gap of his ego. the joint closed it again in one's own home. the one that loves by love.the one who doesn't, but it is the sentimental stuff. in his heart, and his tears. the strong collapses on itself. the thinker claustrophobic, lost in his mind. the smooth deaf. and the writer with the principles set by singer. over and over in the chorus. "the painter who don't mix brushes and cultivate the art of black and white.the architect of the time, and all real. to the ways of imagination. and those who don't know to listen to their inner rebellion. all those who stop when it should come. and those who are afraid of the dark, the light and those who are. - we know.the image of the real escape in spirit but is lower at the beginning of the action. a notable early who excelled in the art of making your own channels. the impostor who denies his inner nature. that is the hypocrite. "a man! "i wasn't in the river valleys, on monday, 5 september, guess, dance and cavalcades comet white elk and tressailles.your hips are in the earth, down dark, where your body can fight, all within you to save me, i was away, you come to me with your eyes to recognize, the bridge of the stones is raised to keep your feet phales secrets of breakthrough, the years are your breasts boast discord: i wasn't the valleys and domptes promised almost deceitful, you went.no law without end your rump in the wild. a side effect from the end of my first full of leftovers, or you sit down and dance. cavalcades elk and white comet tressailles. your hips are in the earth, down dark, where your body can fight at heart you. save me

i shouted your name on sunday, september 4, 2005 by violet poulin

i was screaming your name.as you sing with him head, naked, naked body, at heart, in my heart, and loved, like always. i had, as we have a source, at hand, in body, and my heart was filled with water, and my heart love, like always. i breathed in, as you breathe a flower, in the hand, in the body, and i closed my eyes, to keep my heart gently and liked it.we love you forever. you cried "mama", as is the life born in the spring, i saw you dancing "at heart naked, naked body, and when i call your name, and we sing to him, and my heart is like. we love you forever." and my heart whispered, as the wind blows, and my heart is up, as is the part, and my heart sank, as a source and sinkand my heart is like, like always.



the daimon (nietzsche, van gogh, sunday september 4, 2005 by j - r

that is, i think, another lover of the shadow that is cast in bright, neck. in a small alley, his brothers, and brilliant in the north of italy, and we wanted to get. for men, the few recall, and taste again.the tears that the insane cried on the horse. "there are the safeguards in place to prevent the horses, then to beat is terrible." yes, it's good that you revêtis vest in 1888 around vincent, colorful, what your neighbors of the century, as well as the pain, so at night i saw you only to collect the wounds of a color; and a rack (2) crylistening to the call of a black piano. "again this year, you have the" deep "(shades of encarcanné mixtures, brushes attempts...

oh communion that you cry, that is, the night in solitude and sometimes revert to silence." they didn't see you. they ignored the eye cry to my heart, who is there in the ocean about kelp.water and fury, the eye that you wanted to go to