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Thoughts about Kacimi
I spent hours listening to this song over and over gain
writing this word
that word
Until I come out with this statement
This song portrays a horrific and tragic reality of how many people control how they perceive themsleves in life( including myself).
I refused to loook up the google french to English translation until I was able to write up my transaltion and my own understanding of these lyrics.
The song unfolds in a folk campfire style of nrrating a story within a song-This style lent it a stream of consciousness narrative trail that I often respond well too.
Once I grasped what and possibly why this song has a strong hold of my emotions, I decided to watch the Avante Garde esque animation video
Before I watched and listened to the the lyrics I had this image of a man.
A surly , brooding Serge Gainesbourg character swaggering confidently in a world he clearly has no control over.
His response to being held back by a natural depression in the centre of his universe. He never appears in awe of his world nor being distracted by all the world has to offer.
It becomes apparent he never truly gets out of this depression because it hascarved a groove deep into the centre of his own universe.
There is always an invitation to listen or to watch or take action.
That is what people do in life.
We can be nonchalant spectators.
we listen ,
we watch ,
we sing ,
we live,
We cry
We forget
We love
We remeber
We lose
We die
I cried when I heard the this verse
I’ve never felt so alone not since I was a child.
I felt my heart wrench for that lonely child -every moment that I felt like that lonely child.
I think too much -over analyse
Always thinking
thinking without end or taking nor taking action in this existence.
The song has a positve message to impart. If we feel alone we will remain alone in our solitude. We can find a way tp be strong & embrace our inner selves. Unaware as we may be to the inbetween moments of life through to death.
The french words are a reminder of the voices I don’t hear speaking speak to me any longer.
I made a decision to teach my daughter a few phrases.
The song & the video shows the many you can go on the journey of life -come across many places and meet people, but there is only one person wh can put one foot ahead and carry on with life’s :seemingly childsh sick imagination
No matter how it appears to toy with us -we can’t ever give up on the beautiful.ideal of life.
No matter how many times we are kicked in the teeth or refuse to partake or play natures rules.
In the end( like at the end of the song) a creature lets out a sqwark .
reminding we can never take our eyes off life for long when we have no choice but to face it.
Life with it’s ability to grow wings , beat and fly away from us -yet we still admire it.
To be a bird -is it freedom? Life is simple it requires that we live.
That is it.
Breathe, and live our life and become aquainted with all parts of our characters.
la vie ce’st une grand ville – life is a big place.
It will shake us in side out until we beg it to let us leave this place.
This song makes me feel like I i have loved and lost and should have no regrets yet i still do.
Well, that is my take on the song..
I looked up the english translation becuse my transaltion will be a bit different.
It is a triste song filled with a tiny grain of hope.
Don’t die looking for hope because hope –it is already inside us.
Life is in us and it is bigger than us.
To die living within oursleves and never experienceing the external joy of life must be a horrible regret to have as a ladt moment before death intoxicates us
I love this song because it makes me cry and it reminds me that I’m not the only Depressed muppet living in the world.
Life is a choice and a blessing.
We are not wired to let go of life no matter how hard and lonely and barren it is.
One hug will leave us intoxiated in love with the idea of life. It may turn out to be our last breathe.
He had just turned twenty
Far away in the atoll lay asleep
The hopes of a being; he searched in vain
The lost sacred fire of the great shiver
Under the fiery rays of a black sun
His hope was packed
While morality watched him.
And he had never felt so alone
In this bottomless pit
Where tangible reveries
Meet gloomy gray columns.
He had just turned twenty,
And life was spread out before him.
In a house, flanked by the hearth
A blackened fireplace in the living room
Sprawled injustice, languid.
And in its pale orbits shone
The two (soft?) Reflections of a world which sheltered
A madness as possessed.
And he had never felt so alone
In this bottomless pit
Where tangible reveries
Meet gloomy gray columns.
He had just turned twenty,
And life was spread out before him.
The haggard eye, the wet mouth and forehead,
The contemplative mind, the empty gaze
He thought he held the night in his hands.
And while he thought he was finally touching
The mysteries, his anguish with his fingers,
The beauty preferred to dissipate.
And he had never felt so alone
In this bottomless pit
Where tangible reveries
Meet gloomy gray columns.
He had just turned twenty,
And life was spread out before him.
Loneliness, he knew her;
Always lurking in every nook and cranny,
To mope and twist into strips.
He found in her arms a comfort
That never ceased to intoxicate him;
A bittersweet pleasure that put him to sleep.
On the rocks
Such a sexy little number
I almost cry out clocking a matching lingerie set
Ready for my in
case suite case
I stash away ready for the moment I hit Downunder.
Laugh at your tears
Say a Huge fuck you to your fears.
This is the week when bash didn’t do it for me
Sniff
Banging
Pocket pat down
hear a jingle
Family matters is more substantial for me.
Write to recover or die trying to live the life of another.
Freedom will come from sucking the teet from how you was mothered.
Be real
authenticate
deliberate who you gonna get rid of
You know them Twockers,
those who instigate?
I dilly dally
Think,
Cut through the same ally?
Second thoughts
Nah, maybe… another time.
No masterpiece is this stream of consciousness
Too oily for an academic poets diet
Borderline poetry
Keep it on the rocks
Top of the evening to those who think creativity is a bit of alright.
Queen of Tristesse
Stone cold.
Distant to my heartache.
Hunger strikes, I’m alone With the pangs,
Conjuring Magicians
Allow me to flee from my Skin.
Aloof to the consequences Of escaping this reality.
Study the stars
I am the hunted.
This is my vessel.
in the glimmer of dawn
Have a piece of my heart.
This is Life’s charade.
Able to use my body.
Though,
The melancholy of my
Repressing my desire to Quit
It ’s not time to hide under sand beds
These words don’t do Justice
I have to reach out.
Alone,
Fighting for the thud in my Heart.
Wondering
Am I here to exist glibly?
I sit here in silence , Blowing out smoke rings
I’m the queen of Tristeness.
Love Cartel didn’t end well
sails set -flappers on deck- bags packed ready to dance with le mistral –
Prepare for signs of cursive scurvy , unorthodox rats.
a canary and a dove destined for a new type of island style
Known by the name king Louis of swing.
Roots.
Start over.
Allegiance to the flag
Pledge to acquiesce to the captain of this ship
He – the cardinal son.
She- Scarlett wife , tresses of a bedheader installs a navigation Wicca app aura .
Puritans on the other side of the reminisce -wont flock in God’s pinitation no more.
Men blemished from wearing rosacea glasses,
They don’t mind if their ladies flesh is pricked by a stranger.
Possessive is not a prerequisite to all nature.
If she hustled away every coin for her current despicable appearance,
Would his fists mangle into the renegade degenerate?
He ,sitting on a cracked pavement, sipping beer 9% proof distilled hops poison
The brain canters away with a wild neigh, a hurdle jump to late to plummet off the mezzanine ?
Money talks .
Yes, your majesty,
The Queens face-discordant in all apparitions injects a dose of annus miribilis.
Scarlett wife Disorderly conduct causes a head to head, bollocks to a curtesy,
Sight convinces the reality of her hand gripping onto a can of mace.
No!
Artistic expression insists on splashfuls of colour of cans .
Expressive language told in graffiti.
Stand back — look at the words staring at you on the attack
What is respect ?
No dictionary to hand. Examples pour out without definition.
Pleasantries, thank you , cups of tea, good nights, mechanical nav app claiming
Quickest reroute to I love you,
Is it posse of homies fist bumping in homage to the lionized mane with blue blood paw
Together-slumber in king size
Flesh remains languorous to the swirl prints of human touch-
Mistaken identity chickens both fear to lose more feathers
Life division — soul mates obliterated by differences in decorum ethics.
Always the sophisticate — the crowd whispers nectar grains of gossip behind whimsical fans.
She is the fallen angel , notorious for the malaise in her head,
she brings out the rapture of Yorkshire cows that hide udders with a noo noo ,
lactose free
Milked by onions far future veiled tears and a survival credits demeanor .
The pair adore the honeyed bee with cotton blue eyes –
the enigma who keeps their fates sealed in bondage
Arrange one another like a book end seeking outwards ,
a common agenda arise
Pleiades siren sisters heard mewing departing with the breath of dawn
tangerine hues , salmon pinks,
Creative muse leads the joint pair to rip at each other until both are mere bits of itty bitty jagged ,torn up pieces.
No clean break.
Wind takes a pile of their stake
Love ?
People fall out of love everyday.
Better opportunities appear in the sky line at sun
Save but for this,
Passion misaligned enough to impart a spiritual kiss.
Scarlet answers to his tonic inflections — atonement persists every other day.
White noise.
Static.
Erratic.
Chaotic.
Despotic
Erotic
heinous tumor clots the mind by a sprinkle of a spell hypnotic
The poltergeist won’t make a proposal with a smudging kiss -so dreadfully emphatic!
Compromise to exercise the practice of sabili.
Feverish tug of war discourse breaks out in lieu of discordant decibels strung out on opiate sentences.-
Night terrors channel the unblemished one onto hang mans cliff, one foot away she is from tumbling to the state of alone.
How can we humans get it so wrong for so long?
Hearts motivation is seeking for a state of a rose petal bed sensation
Yearn that the fleeting soul mate would over estimate his worth.
Indeed change his own faith perhaps even his fate.
No frown lines
Don’t mean no problems.
equality determined by duvet covered up underscores
Old Ben ticks a version of rock.
seize a raconteur to reveal a mandatory position of bondage-alternating positions to top-
Knowledge of new positions verbalized in consumption — a crescendo of orgamsic crowning
Don’t you think it’s fascinating we can live in cramped states and boxed ticks?
Fairies move out appalled by love birds sudden screaming in Tourettes tics
Strangers bound by vows and contracts have perfunctory sentiments ,
Know her soul — possess her ,emancipate her from well coined ferry man ferrying crowds over the river of sty.
she needs the force of a Minotaur-
Amygdala explosion — irrational welts to a few tossers , no burial for those who disrespect a generous gender-life givers-vessels for the lucky few
Respect is a two way street.
A part can disappear to a sudden gasp of disappointment clad in veil-hidden-
Though some part still exposes her skin announcing she’s prepared to paint a mural — decipher their own teasing ,high hopes for their Art.
He needs a stability, no hand palms lined with haphazard crosses-
Nor to the cosmos antagonizing the make up of her spirited sum
We – love is what ? a dessert homemade , multiple attempts to attain the taste of perfection
To understand the the meaning behind the effect of not giving a shit about garlic breathe.
We fall in love-
we fall out
We love-
we don’t love
Love shouldn’t have a contract of pre determined conditions.
Feisty souls-what will happen when they reach past there 30th mile stone?
All blasphemous bathe in water infected with parasites of bloody rouge delighted to succeed leeching on a new host — a corruption life draining feed
is this enough to see them through the next phase-a turnstile or direction that doesn’t rewire an IQ test
emotional intelligence — hear her lilted accent
Manipulations, guilt — disappointment-
She commands brutal truth in — communication
Not the bullshit that she is the get down momma.
Big up her soul — she won’t trust words wrapped in silk feathers made by the wife of the bent over farmer.
Troubled is this state of terrain .
life epiphany moments can unify a bond lost to an inventory of savage materialitisic scum
The body is infected
Damn woman, screwed up everything from the moment she puffed out a perfect Oh breathe , the day at her party of existence.
Which way to go?
Look at the neighbors garden — all flowers and herbs cultivated with hands green hue glow.
Tender, patience — imagine a perfect relationship.
It’s easy to forget the good times when Cerebus wakes up-
dodging three eyeballs — accumulate by the sense e of fear-causing blood to boil in heinous state of haemorrhage.
Reminisce the spaces with laughter , moments of frisson, an out line of a future that didn’t appear another gilded prison.
Vow to be a sensual, thought after action man
Vow to be a lady who will cite and recite her promise .
re read the words spoken amount attuned bird chirping,
Above an audience not hidden by a curtain-breaking down every wall.
They recite their vows
Explore the true meaning,
Speak them out loud
Reconnect – her proposal to fight for their future far from the hostile terrain cartel.
Not a rant
known for ranting about the men who do me wrong.
Today
I don’t care enough to write about men who clearly hear beats from some other song.
Usually my posts carry into at least 900 words.
Today –
Daisy , me – 37 year old, divorced and a mum with heart and
played,riffes strummed ,
duh dum!
Okay.. throw in a hum.
Thank you men who are wonderfully crazy
Ive been their hazy daisy
Now is my time to pull back the sheets
and embrace my beauty ,my flaws without hearing insults thrown mid discourse.
Not an easy caveat
