Fireworks

Martial Boiteau

Description

C’est un recueil de textes surgis du tréfonds. Des mots qui explosent après de multiples expériences sexuelles, psychotropiques multiples. Ce sont des fulgurances jetés sur du papier en prenant soin de ne pas l’incendier.

Informations

• Publié par: Les Éditions du Net
• Date de parution: 24 juin 2013
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9782312011653
• Langue: Français

Extrait

Fireworks
Martial Boiteau
Fireworks
Et autres fulgurances










LES ÉDITIONS DU NET 22, rue Édouard Nieuport 92150 Suresnes
© Les Éditions du Net, 2013 ISBN : 978-2-312-01165-3
Avant-Propos
Il m’arrive me croire poète, la belle affaire. Je maudis mes lectures, leurs auteurs et je les vénère.Toujours entre, entre terre et mer, entre ciel et enfer, Je livre ce que je dois à mes congénères avant un autre ailleurs que je méconnais pour l’heure.
Je livre donc ces quelques fulgurances, telles qu’elles ont frappé à ma porte. Voilà le fruit de quelques une de mes errances. Dans l’espoir, que personne ne vive de la sorte.
« Voilà des choses qui furent
Et ne furent point
Des légendes qui susurrent
Un présent lointain.
Voilà des choses qui sont
Et ne sont point.
Des histoires issues du tréfonds
D’un futur incertain.
Voilà des choses qui seront
Et ne seront point.
Des vers qui chanteront
Un passé sans fin.

Je est un autre, définitivement. »

Je souhaiterais tant que vous ne commettiez pas mes erreurs .
Le titre est en anglais, parce que c’est dans cette langue que le texte que je considère principal, essentiel m’est venu. Je vous le donne à lire avec sa traduction française. Les bilingues comprendront qu’il y a des jeux de mots que je ne pouvais commettre qu’en anglais, évidemment. Une langue est pour moi une musique, des sons avant d’être des mots avec un sens. C’est avec une petite musique dans la tête que j’écris la plupart du temps.
Peut-être l’entendrez-vous aussi.
Fireworks
For
years
I’ve been
Throwing
Little stones
On the roads
To find my way.
Became puzzle items.
A million puzzle sparkles .
Not easy to tidy up firework.
I don’t wonder how to, but why.
I’m just a poor thief of fire, Pandora.
Sailing among the stars, stealing
Their lovable light
Need you.
Need to.
Need.
Love.
You.

Wandering in the night of anthracite linen ghosts,
Floating among remembrance of abandonment,
Alone in the crowd waiting for the white hansom
Lost in the way of the drunks and fools.
Looking at the desert highways
Standing in the plane’s door,
Little blond boy breathes
In the warm air
Of the sand
Burning
His lips

He is three years old.
Watching yellow blue
Horizons.
Staring at the sun,
Whispering the magic
Words he mourned
Into the ears of Witches
While naked bitches
On horses tame caged lions.
Wild cats becoming
Holy butterflies.
He ran.
Hugging the shape of wind.

He ran In Iran,
Laughing Henry
As a tramp in Teheran’s street
Raises his head to the sky
Following the star’s course
From Persia to Hyperborea.
He ran.
From Hyperborea to Persia.

The little and silly are afraid
By blowing empty moment
Of deafening silent of glory
And happiness. Lying sufferers.

Naked souls swinging on the clouds
Screaming , singing and trampling
Broken bones of dead smiling devils
Laugh at the underneath pitiful puppets.

Let’s leave the clerical in hell
The place they need to feel
Let’s quit the underground
Come on up to the upper one.

C’mon. Let’s run.
They don’t know the Holy Pain.

Pregnant woman buys a back-lighted camel
At the oriental sandy solitude market.
Chosen by the baby inside sitting on a mountain
Of gold. He doesn’t know. Just plays saxophone.
Looking around for the Holy Witches of the island.

C’mon. Let’s run.
Let’s hug
The shape
Of sun.

We’ll join the naked souls
Playing dices on the rotten flesh
Of soldier’s horses. It’s snowing.
Freezing. Let’s warm them up.

We’ll show them how smart
We are. In which dough trough
We put our messy hands. How
We can let boil our messy brains.

We’ll show to those soldiers how to play
Billiards inside their own skulls.
C’mon, holy witches
Let’s run.
Apart.
Away.
Further.
Beyond
The Horizon.
Here there are
The one we know.
Hiding with the sun,
Catching the boat
On the Nile river
During twilight
They join the
Aztec Kings.
I MPROMPTU R ENDEZ - VOUS
Every twelve years Prince of Camels,
When dragons and lizards are back
In the land of fear and avoidance,
Leaves his funky funny games
To clean up his dusty grave.
Gargoyles are too lazy.
He has to run back to blond boy
And pick him up to Desert of passions,
Meeting the three Wise Queen at gas station.
They call Taken, Given, Understood.
First one, Miss Taken
Has a bag full of bloody hearts for lizards
Second one, Miss Given
Offers golden chains for children of hazard;
Third one, Miss Understood,
Diamondwords for sisters of bizarre .

Camel, blond and butterfly
Ready at least to go by,
Through the sandy ocean,
Avoiding the lead bullets
Of the old blind mexican
Singing for shaman ballets.
"Tearbells in the sky
Teach us how to cry
Luminous gnomes off
Teach us how to laugh."
Let’s go.
We have an impromptu Rendez-vous.
Butterflies, flies and ants crumble down
From rocky mountains to the desert,
Have to feed brain of the morron.
But her fly. Butt her flies.
Switching language,
Switching tongues.
Purring wild cats.
Naughty games.
Broken souls.
Beautiful
People.
There
Will
Be.
Let’s go.
We have an impromptu Rendez-vous.
"Love is the lonely real revolutionary act.
From roving to lying will stop the journey.
Be wary of fountains and their monkeys
Dancing around. There is a guy talking
About love. Don’t trust him, he is a wanker.
He founds religions and kill witches adorateurs."
"Unicorns are on the other side of the dune
Waiting for you. They need you to know.
Dumb Unicorns in need of words.
Blind Unicorns in need of light.
Deaf Unicorns in need of music.
Lonesome Unicorns in need of you
Pretty boy."
C’mon. They’re waiting for you.
And your enchanting butterfly.
Blast in ground, down.
Scream in the night.
Scream at the dawn.
One more day to fight.
Little boy takes their ball and chain off
Climbs the Camel and starts riding.
Butterfly lights the way up.
Beyond the dune they join
The marvelous equines
For a smooth musical
Bacchanalia.
Small bells,
Smell balls,
Cymbals,
Sound
Like
Rivers.
Riding
Each other,
Little gilded boy
And beauty mares,
Blow the sunset wind
And burn the morning stars.
Now. We have a new wild world to face.
Where happiness and love join in craziness.
" Let’s stay away from quagmire where
Bearded ravens, fat repulsive crossed bubbles,
Ridiculous senile baldhead full of hatred,
Stupid male with their dick on shoulder
Are hunting butterflied child
Full of hope and flowers in his smile."

C’mon let’s figure out the Hazard
Let’s waltz with sisters of Bizarre
Let’s go venerate the Lizard.
Womenwolves in the lupanars
Purring Witches on the dragonbard
Are calling you from far :
"Let’s run !
To the sun ! "
F UKUSHIMA
Met a witch
May a bee
May a butterfly
Can order me
Whatever.
I will react
As a primitive
Makes me feel I
High, higher,
Aïe, aïeuuuh..
Met a witch
Powerful more
Than the ones before
Blotted out
2000 years history
Makes each day
An eternity ;
Joined me into
My cave,
Visited her grotto.
Met a witch
Let me escape
From Eden,
Let me enter
Into severed garden .
Finally.
Met a witch
Red and green
Black shining ;
Let me switch
Made my day,
Made my year,
Made my .
Met a witch
Told me
I’m gorgeous !
Gave my
Memory back
Met a witch
Makes fall the rain
Of je t’aime
Met a witch
I will be proud
To belong to her
Makes my body yell
When she is
When she’s not
Met a witch
Who repairs
The wounded souls
Miss her
Miss her
Miss her
Miss her
Miss her
Miss her
She calls chat ronronne
Happiness beauty and pain,
Amour, humour, pleasure and lovery.
Remember every second spent with her
On, with, under, apart, away, further, beyond.
Never let me go to the giant family, please, don’t.
Smooth caresses of Lioness’ Claw
Sliding on belly land of sorrow
Turn on the sweet and sour
Fukushima Mon Amour.
Oh bite me, strap me on
My dear salope
Oh pinch me, scratch me
My sweet putain
Two green fires roaming
Up on my legs flaming
Tumbling world of dour
Fukushima Mon Amour.
Oh bite me, strap me on
My dear salope
Oh pinch me, scratc