Archives des articles tagués bus

on fly
au sommet de Montréal
en bus bardé
de pub qui blesse les yeux

je ride un seul pied
à terre
toujours à moitié su’l’brake
— shake me

Montréal. ma couleur
« regardes-y le smug de béton
à la madame »
belle et brune

on vole
et revole sur ses courbes cassées,
dos encore au lit
et yeux couleurs de nuits

sur Saint-Laurent.
toujours ciel et terre
de la même estie de teinte
un homme étalé entre les deux

on touche
deux extrémités d’ile mais
ça connecte pas
le bus est vide

d’essence. cheap
parfum de coconut
bonne couleur, baby,
but now bum it back

— your back to me
on fly
chacun dans l’moment

puis on vire.

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In the 3 minutes and 14 seconds
that this song lasts
I went back and forth in time
3 and 14 times
respectively.

Safely seated in the bus
I pointed my chin forward,
let past and future unfurl,
let go
back first.

Paris and its wild lights / trajectories I couldn’t grasp / too high on my bike / and his blurry picture / before me

rays of light, laughs / did we roll on the grass / trying to pick up a friend / fallen apple too full of juice? / yes we did

and did I make a wish / meaningful and dear / while everyone was away / except me and / a shooting star?

She says, « but there was not
enough space for you /
I couldn’t find any place
for you / now it’s too late »;
is it ever?

I let go
and forth,
into this life
and the next

This form is already souvenirs,
the rest comes in flashes
on a bumpy ride:

bodies curled in fallen leaves, crying / tears to come

I, chasing a rush of stars / through loud sound

« everything will be alright », your voice / fading soft

your kiss again, and its apple taste / city to go

tea scents

dog spirit

dismembering

snow bed

rose drops;

sugar rush

head massage

bass pumping

seasons’ descent

blood dripping.

Time flies
but I make space for all lives
I could and could not have,
I will and will not have,
all the same

words fly
leave whiter holes
perfect

In 3 minutes and 14 seconds
I have found a place for this
one thing
that’s all

* Here is the song I am talking about : Too Late, by Ariane Moffatt. *
* Oh, and I missed dVerse Poets yesterday, but I used their prompt anyway. *

I am on a bus under a full moon.

Is this a dream? As in, « life is a recurring dream »?
Clouds don’t want me to watch but my heart knows. My heart is drawn up while my body passes on a bridge too high. A bit too high. A roller coaster squeezes my spine.

Wait. My heart knows.

My heart knows we’ll be fully together soon. Soon after I have passed these rushing hours, in which the round softness of ease remains nowhere to be found.

My body is nowhere.
My body is to be found.

I am on a bus and the bright horizon stretches itself wide under sagging clouds. Arms wide open, wide crushed.

My heart is wide bruised. I’ve bruised it myself. Since I was born.
But there’s the full moon. There’s tea that makes me cry. There’s you and own imminent reunion and our sobbing and our blessings. There’s a dream that my body can find its center again.

My body is round.
My body knows how to be.

I am up in the air again, launched as a book with no cover. I’m flying like a stack of papers defiantly thrown (up) by a student. And while I’m up in the air I think the moon is not far therefore I can reach her. I can reach myself.

My heart is round.
My heart is a fist under a veil.

The veil is the same colour as my lips, which are the same colour as my gums. She made me laugh so hard today while we were walking along a brick wall, and because she burst out laughing at the exact same time my gums actually vibrated. It hurt. Slightly. I was shocked. And laughed once more.

My heart can be moved up, so can my body. I’m on a bus and I’m everywhere to be found. As long as there are bright colours I can picture myself easily. I can picture myself easily in your autumnal leaves. « Of Autumn », it read.

My body is red.
The moon is red.

Red as passion and emotions that flow back in. Red as the sheets we used to lie on before they got furry with cat hair. Red as cat fury, red as our laughing at him.

My heart knows where the moon is. It knows the road to you, too.

Our hearts know how fully human each of us is.
But they also know how fully we’ll be together.

I am on a bus under a full moon.
And my dream is everywhere to be found.