Bienvenue à mon jardin non secret!

I look around me and I realise there is always something else to see.

Same streets, same buildings, often same people, yet I see different things, feel different emotions. That's what makes every day a special moment in life and fills every morning with new hopes! Things are what you see in them!




I share here with you what I choose to see, and what I wish to make visible.




There are days when each person I meet, especially the people I have to mix with on a daily basis, take on the significance of symbols, either isolated or connected, which come together to form occult or prophetic writings, shadowy descriptions of my life. The office becomes the page on which the people are the words; the street is a book; words exchanged with acquaintances, encounters with strangers are sayings that appear in no dictionary but which my understanding can almost decipher. F. Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet

Sunday, 31 October 2010

La cigale de Broad Street

Par Aceituna Negra
17 octobre 2010


La cigale de Broad Street
Elle aime que ça aille vite
Elle aime prendre des cuites
Elle vit sur le trottoir
Elle sort quand il fait noir
Chasser son désespoir

La cigale de Broad Street
Quand elle frotte ses cuisses
J'entends le chant du vice
Elle croit faire l'amour
Et part au petit jour
Dans le nid de sa tour

La cigale de Broad Street
Vibre au son brut du beat
Elle dit que ça l'excite
Elle amplifie ses cris
Sous les draps de son lit
Pour faire un tas d'oublis

La cigale de Broad Street
Au plus froid de l'hiver
Elle montre son derrière
Sur la banquette arrière
De la tire de son père
Pour un peu de lumière
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