Poetic Allusions · Un P'tit Je Ne Sais Quoi

Take a knife. Make sure that's well-sharpened. Cut my soul in two and wait quietly to see what it's filled with. In the beginning, you'll observe the sea with the cloudy waves of melancholy. You'll see the sun. A scorching sun. And you're going to feel a gentle breeze of the wind. (it likes to walk through my soul). Cut a little bit more to see how many waves of laughter step out, but be careful to not spill 'em. (they're therapy for my various disappointments) Not to forget. You will see some failures. Ignore them. Someday I'll fix them. Cut a bit deeper and you'll find dreams which I still have, and also desires and fantasies… (I've to mention I got a special affinity with them) After that, I'd like you to look carefully at the top. Right there is happiness. Do you recognize it? I'm Human. I'm a lot of stuff each day of the week. I have about everything in this soul of mine, but I'm not afraid of the bullet's wound that spli...

Did I bother you? I wanna tell you something, — In fact, I'd like to know what's my chance of meeting you at the hour of existence? Do you hear me? I'll wait until the hour of infinity when I'll suppose that you have forgotten that nothing was delayed. I'll wait for you in the cosmos... on a sofa. You may wait for an answer which I don't know it as well as you do about it. I tried my luck with the last dime, — I'm gonna wait for you until... — but firstly, «can you swear I mean... nothin' to ya»

in music, I found a refuge managing sneaking myself in the space amid the notes …to let behind lonelyness

I embodied you in another creature reincarnated not from a fairy spirit but gifted to direct you at a stage of a futuristic idea felt in a sloe gin able like a vermin to eat your pain, a pain found in any soul, at a time...

 ❝ Had I've got the heaven's embroidered cloths enwrought with golden and silver light? Had I've got the blue and the dim and the dark cloths of night and light and the half-light? Cause if I'd have, I would spread the clothes under your feet... but I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams. ❞

in a very trying rookie season, like a child in time at a superior state of awakening you've begun to wonder if every time you dreamed, you weren't actually more awake while with every awakening, you slipped to a world with a lack of dimensions, dimensions of imagination incited by a love spell

very early in the morning, the sky whispered to me, — a magical day, my sunrise... and I answered back, — wham bam, shanalala-la… with my flew mind to you thinking that in one day, — [a very, very, common day], we'll meet for the first time and we'll go to make love as rough as if we've known each other in another life... ✴ ❝  and I will plead no contest if loving you's a crime, so go on and find me guilty,  just one more fucking time  ❞ ✴

nested between spaces of my words, sits in pause, the level of the #9 dream one time is like a standing sentinel, another time is like a lone snowman in all moods is to stir the reader's mind kissed by the whisperer of my visions

(any city begins with a train station and ends up with thousands trains to anywhere...), (in the station it hears a gentle whisper), — …you, there, where do you want to go… …to which of your dreams… …is this train your destination… …would you want someone like me to accompany you…

if your mind and intuitions are provoked, if the blood trembles through your veins, if stormy passions get you back to life, if your principles are sliced while you are an addicted without even knowing why, if so-so perturbed, you want to cast away to not see any more ghosts but only to fly without wings, convinced you'll be caught by some invisible arms in your free-falling, if a new sentiment appears as if the one you were once is resurrected in someone you'd want to be, to feel beyond palpable, it's because you met with a charming one, one able to switch you, – music's mystery

there… where you are too afraid to get in… there is hidden the treasure you sought… will not coming home to you but will wait somewhere in the blue wing of the moon it'll stalk you if you give your soul to those who promised you the magic of paradise in lieu of one who'll follow you even in hell so be vigilant, — this, it isn't my confession but your frisson plotted exactly as hell was made in heaven

do you want to put your hands on my wrist to feel the pulse of your heart?

isn't the woman's job to act reasonably but just the man's job of proving to her that she has for whom, — so i like me better when you want to be bad, but you choose to be good

1ᵉʳ jour, au début d’une nouvelle année scolaire en France,  un enseignant fait la présence dans une salle de classe : — Mustafa Al Ekhzari ? — Présent ! — Kadar Sel Ohlmi ? — Présent ! — Mohammed Endahrha ? — Présent ! — Chanhira Amarttayaku ? — Présent ! — Al Ain Ben Oit ? réduire au silence… — Al Ain Ben Oit ! pas de réponse… — Encore une fois, Al Ain Ben Oit ! un enfant gêné répond timidement : — Madame, je pense que c’est à propos de moi, mais ça se prononce correctement, Alain Benoit

it seems the memories are behaving like a connoisseur equipped fully to offer everything you're asking for; this could be somehow intimidating for some people who watch you as if you're a lovely creature, talking and listening to the voice of the own inner whore‧‧‧... lucky it only seems, otherwise, what are memories for‧‧‧؟

provocative touches ask for other heavenly touches, whatever you ask for in intimacy, it's acceptable,  it's even desirable... nothing is objectionable as long as there isn't some public nature, but what it's narrated further, it's a different story,  for the mind is always unguarded, and eyes, lips, spicy words and gestures are much more daring... there is nothing more occult than love's chemistry… ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ Because 🎧 I need Love, baby, Love, not trouble... ain't funny How Love Works 🎧 More and More, Less and Less  ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ▬▬▬▬▬▬ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

   if i sing softly over and over light my fire i'll be your baby tonight don't stop she called me softly ain't that lovin' you, baby? she took my breath away a...strange kind of woman you make me feel so good for your dreams if you believe me

There's stuff in ourselves we don't know. Something which we'll deny even if it exists until will be too late to do anything about it. We lend a habit polished as if it's a trophy, begging for the approval of others, and withal, nobody has any clue where we are, how near or how far, which's the truth or the delusion, how's the look in our eyes when what we are seeking for it hides right where we'd never think to search for if someone wouldn't appear, miraculously, to whisper its magic and encouraging call, — “i come rain or come shine… come with me, (come…), (shine on, you… crazy diamond).”

why should and how to love you still  when you're already folded around me like a gentle cloud of a rambler-rose flowing around my forehead and chest to feel you like a kind of déjà vu which if you have it, I must have it too, today to roam like twin flames in love's nest

it's almost midnight… delight me with your moon, with your mouth, with your hand, then rolls me within you… hide me in the hue of your shadows to feel the tip of your tongue wandering through me as after, to fall into the void, till the ground, then up to the "Do♭♭", making me for making you start to hum, my woman, my friend

For you didn't want to see me anymore, it's not okay. I have to understand why… Maybe you don't wanna see me any more sad, weeping, or complaining myself in an equal and contagious frequency about pains created by a headache or fake loyalty to people that are pretending to be something they're not. Or… You don't want to see me anymore, agonizing too easily because of others' sufferance… See, are a lot of questions that could be planted for finding the true answer, isn't it? Maybe because you dream about me, you don't wanna see me anymore in your dreams… No matter what you're asking for, no matter what you want, the answer is in you. In me, at this present moment, slides softly a heartbreaking melody… brilliant and sweet and acid at the same time. A midnight blues that could define someone's mood. But whose could be…  [who knows…]

I don't know, — means, — I don't bother to find out. I'm not able to, — means, — I'm too lazy to look for a solution. I don't understand, — means, — It's hard to think all by myself. I'm a negative kind, — means, — I don't care enough. (but) When "would want" becomes, — want! When the "should" becomes, — have to! When "first and then" becomes, — now! Then — and only then, — your wish will operate in full to come true.

... But if you love and just need to have desires  let these be your desires: To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night. To know the pain of too much tenderness. To be wounded by your own understanding of love; And to bleed willingly and joyfully. To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving; To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy; To return home to eventide with gratitude; And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

  « to help you find the girl you aim,  she loves sugar...  she loves kisses, she loves hazard  as Alice, she takes a pill,  as a ghost, she haunts the field,  in the steam, her finger draws  something smiling, I do not know...  tick-tock, tick-tock, the end is near,  when winter comes, she disappears...  one means two, boy, don't miss the train,  you are warned, you, not to blame,  red, yellow, blue,  a dancing girl in front of you,  another thing you cannot see  read the book and follow me »  ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ « – so, what's your name? — •••• – what's your favorite color? — blue – so, if you're frenglishly off and you won't tell me  where are you going anyway  to some weird country, I'll still find you — you will never find me – that's what you think? — yes! – you can change your hair,  you can change your eyes,  you can change your nose,  i'll still find you — you ...

predictably, always remains few things behind, hid deep at base of your quintessence; something not so courteously, but decent to stir you to want torture yourself, — u devil u

i wonder what agitates me like that… [should be your thought, – probably] probably to caress you in whispers, inked charming by my soul's scripts scripts that accelerate your cadence at a superior state of the awakening awakening, gamed with varied visions as if you'd love me‥ as if i'd love you [...too] — [...too]

…take illusions seriously, Mon Cheri; somehow, you ideated me so, [but see], in what part of me, you forged your mind, it's one of your memory from a future with which I'm living at this moment and for which it is not necessary to be judged... or justifying myself...

few rendered hypotheses, in music, are beautifying you as you are, as if it's a subtle whisper of mine to you; so listen to it in friendly mannerism thru the windmills of your mind, ok? i swear that's chic… (ma parole…!)

If you have  Nothing , then you have  Everything ,  because you have the freedom to do  Anything ,  without the fear of losing  Something ...

An image is wandering thru a story, having as landscape a dreamy realm insurmountable. I'm getting caught in the drunkenness of the pictures, colors, and sounds, while various fishes are breaking the water mirror, making the water-lilies dance bathed in the sun. The multicolor birds chirp for the fishermen. I guess that even J.Y. Cousteau could've been losing the notion of time, and could've been murmuring, if he was here, finding out, amazed, like you, right now, that my home is on the delta.

We didn't have a start, but also, nor an ending. Since we found each other, life beyond time has elapsed in harmony and balance. It was a need for me to understand rightly, why I was looking and asking around for you, when, properly, you were always in me. It was necessary (for you to be sure) that the fire inside me loves to escape wildly. (It can't be kept in a hopeless realm). (It can't perish in loneliness and frustration). My soul is a no-good place for the lonely for it is capable to reach any kind of fantasy, making me so real, while some wish gets fulfilled. My soul is walking with your soul. Both shine. Both have that spark which can never be replaceable.

If a smile could sometimes mean...  — ⟮I adore you!⟯ ⟮You're funny!⟯ ⟮C'mon, you piss me off!⟯ ⟮Ooh, how much I like what you're telling me…⟯ ⟮I missed you!⟯ ⟮Of course, I want!!!⟯ ⟮Are you crazy?⟯ ⟮Mmm, I love that part of your mind…⟯ ⟮You know, that dream… I want to be real.⟯ ⟮Yes!⟯ ⟮Clearly, Not!⟯ ⟮You lie, I know when you lie…⟯ ⟮Hmm, you're sincere, I think I like you…⟯ ⟮I'll never forget you!⟯ ⟮I don't think so…⟯ ⟮Don't forget me!⟯ ⟮Come!⟯ ⟮Wait for me!⟯ ⟮Kiss me, please! Get wild!⟯ ⟮bye-bye!⟯ — Could you guess what means my smile now?

«With a chaste heart and pure eyes  I celebrate you, my beauty,  restraining my blood  so that the line  surges and follows  your contour,  and you bed yourself in my verse,  as in woodland, or wave-spume:  earth's perfume,  sea's music.  Nakedly beautiful,  whether it is your feet, arching  at a primal touch  of sound or breeze,  or your ears,  tiny spiral shells  from the splendor of America's oceans.  Your breasts also,  of equal fullness, overflowing  with the living light  and, yes,  winged  your eyelids of silken corn  that disclose  or enclose  the deep twin landscapes of your eyes.  The line of your back  separating you  falls away into paler regions  then surges  to the smooth hemispheres  of an apple,  and goes splitting  your loveliness  ...

— who's your greatest love, the first one, the last one, or... the one between first and last؟? — the greatest love of mine is the one that remained and will remain in the soul... kept hidden as a treasure because it did it and it does it and it will do so well to me, [like a song from a picture]

As me to get to you faster, I begged the moon,  «give me your mystery and drag me with you anywhere you can enter, on the horizon of dreams where the sun loves to hide to play peek-a-boo» As me to get to you faster, I said once again, — «come on, dear moon, give me your secrecy and take me up to the one I love, to the one who waits in a dreamy realm, supernatural and mysterious» As me to get to you faster, the moon straightaway appeared, adorning me with tiny-petty fairy wings to get to the clouds, then further and further where you wait for me in the fluffy sounds, — cocooned

«When a new day begins, dare to smile gratefully. When there is darkness, dare to be the first to shine a light. When there is injustice, dare to be the first to condemn it. When something seems difficult, dare to do it anyway. When life seems to beat you down, dare to fight back. When there seems to be no hope, dare to find some. When you’re feeling tired, dare to keep going. When times are tough, dare to be tougher. When love hurts you, dare to love again. When someone is hurting, dare to help them heal. When another is lost, dare to help them find the way. When a friend falls, dare to be the first to extend a hand. When you cross paths with another, dare to make them smile. When you feel great, dare to help someone else feel great too. When the day ended, dare to feel as if you’ve done your best. Dare to be the best you can – At all times, Dare to be!» «happiness is not the absence of problems; it's the ability to deal with them»               ...

  « Man is the most insane species. He worships an invisible God and destroys a visible Nature. Unaware that this Nature he’s destroying is this God he’s worshiping.»

I am playing in your thoughts without letting visible some scars my love for you giggle giddy up in your blood, explicit preferences the left eyelid of yours recites on my right eyelid, its throb's poem your lips whisper to my lips in what dialect my body to feel you

You can bet that Music is heaven’s daughter, affianced with the devil… or, the only magician who knows very well plenty of opus pocus formulas. This lady, — the Music, says the same words, and yet, differently, pulsating powerfully with her witchery notes, using Her acolytes. It’s the One that leads where it wants to take you. It’s the reason for which the oxytocin flows in waves, letting marks in the brain and in each neural circuitry, — this Goddess. Furthermore, it’s the Divine product, not just a simple pleasure. It’s part of the background noise of each existence, offering a full life. Also, it amuses and energizes. Gives wings to the libido and stimulates intense emotions. And… it brings a better mood that’s taking us out of stress… (stress which might lead to depression, burnout, and other similar disorders). Therefore, let the Music flow, for it is therapy in itself. Not to mention that it makes us sexy… (otherwise, how to explain the sex appeal of the rock stars 🎸, anointed a...

defines pleasure… — to realize that you got woken up only to be lured into a dream to live an organic joy with someone… — while others explain the essence just for you… I burn with the desire to tell you  how much I missed you

sometimes, — pilot sometimes, — vet... today's agreement, — he consults her cat ❝ Let's talk about sex... She was trying to get him to talk to her while they were doing the deed... He said "Baby I'm the strong and the silent type." She said, "That's not what I need." "Please do not speak softly, "she said. "When carrying your stick." He said, "Actions can speak louder." She said, "It doesn't do the trick." She was all over him in the A.M. He said, "Baby, you don't understand. Just about once a night, I'm alright, but I'm not much of a morning man. I'm not quite awake yet, he said, I could use a cup." She said, "How about a loving spoonful, darling? That might get you up." The other night, she was biting him, while they were doing it in the dark, — He said, "what... are you some kind of vampire, baby?" She said, "I just love to leave my mark." And then ...

sit... look at me do nothing just dive yourself inside of my lullaby 𓇼 time with devotion sneaks up through you nightly daily 𓇼 [abandoned] you inside of you be sound of a rainbow 𓇼 kiss my whisper with your disarming smile 𓇼 I'm not dreaming, — [still want you]

In the presence of the present, I'm afraid you're afraid I'm afraid that I love you‥ (and that's true). I love you using the lips of those that convert each melody in a chouette, (hard-rock-lover). So I hope you will intend to order strawberries, whipped cream and chocolate for some chills & fever. The store is on the dreams' alley, next to tempting whispers' corner at the parterre of longing, (open).

I jog on a cloudy and undecided zone where loneliness and the need to be with others mix, like the day with the night. I can not be me-me, as I would like to be, openly, sociable, but neither to stay hidden, isolated, as I have sometimes the impulse to do it. And the inability to choose one of those paths, it's like a diabolic crush.