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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.
I sit in silence.
Tears betray the death of Another beating heart.

Distant to my heartache.
Love is meaningless accented by meaningful Nuances.

Hunger strikes, I’m alone With the pangs,
Unsure if I want to feel the Caress of familiar hands

Or

If I’d rather escape to a Nether land.

Conjuring Magicians
Ready to sell inconspicuous potions.

Allow me to flee from my Skin.
Threaded by veins
Morose in temperament.

Aloof to the consequences Of escaping this reality.
Complicit to the sadness That shrieks in my Gut: Pierced spleen.

It’s not nearly as stomach Able as watching the Chambers of my heart in My hands

Weep.

For the moments tangled In lust.

The desire to be a part of Someone else’s sun.

To inhabit their orbit.

Study the stars
Share butterfly kisses
Break free into a wild run.

Freedom is a state of Mind.

Release me from the Bonds of this exile.

I am the hunted.
I am the hunter with the Blade ready to attack.

This is my vessel.
My only means to move forward.

Cut the strings for this Puppet will not be coerced To dance nor sing,

Until I find a simple hymn.

One to attest that another Mortal respects I am more than my sin.

Words hurriedly apologise to recapture that soul

Spotted

in the glimmer of dawn
It cowers fearful deep
Within.

Have a piece of my heart.
Have a piece of my words.

Sully not my thoughts to Taint my heart with more Leacherous poison.

I am breathing

Merely existing to find out how to win.

This is Life’s charade.
The cards dealt with each hand.

Thanks to Gaia for I have Both intact.

Able to use my body.
Able to use my mind
To forgive.

Though,
Not give in.

The melancholy of my
Aura glitters like a Midas Collectible
When it touches the man I call my king.

The weight of this gloom Thunders over me.

Cajoling me.

Repressing my desire to Quit
Killing myself.
Smile authentically. Blossom again.

It ’s not time to hide under sand beds
Muted into making me think I’m still not thin,

Enough.

These words don’t do Justice
To how I truly feel.
I lose people I love.

Gain friends who form a circled ring around me.

I have to reach out.
Allow a hand to bring me Full circle.

Alone,
I contemplate.

Fighting for the thud in my Heart.
Fighting for another hot Flushed blush.

Wondering
If I have already died.

Is living not for the likes of My kind?

Am I here to exist glibly?
A ruin of poorly
constructed pyramids?

I sit here in silence , Blowing out smoke rings
Made
Out
Of
My
Woes.

I’m the queen of Tristeness.
My position is to not give in.
(Queen of Tristesse part of the ‘Be happy or die trying chronicles)

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

I’m a lover ,Im’ a fighter ,I’m passionate,

I’m not a  pliable little girl.

I cry

I pick myself

Im fierce.

A mama bear has fire

baby bear follows

in hesitant paws.

A Shrug.

My love.

My loved.

My loves

are bigger than the swell of the Titanic

Meet the match you’ve stroked.

Daisy grew up.

Forever wild and passionate.

I know my worth.

I let men talk.

I let men walk.

Some men just want a woman to be who they need them to be.

Hey, I see the good –

I love the good in the men I’ve opened my heart to.

I would give my last penny or hug to someone even when i know it s not going to work out.

Call me whatever you want .

Yes, I have a cunt.

I can bitch at times.

I’m possibly possessed ,fiery

even a witch.

No more interest in the chase – stop caring to write words about men who make less sense than my stream of consciousness works.

I’ll settle for a man who knows how to deal with a grown ass women.

Flawed, beautiful , funny,weird ,crazy, dazed, Drugged ,sober , quiet , over talkative skinny ,curvy, ill behaved, lovable, ditzy, smart -a conundrum of premium star dust fulfilled.

If Men are afraid its cos she- me knows what she wants.

run away and give way for a man I can adore.

This isn’t poetry it ‘s me – never hide behind a front.

Daisy speaks her c’est la vie.