A la fontaine de feu

Qui dort dans mes mains ouvertes

Écoutant les feuilles mortes

Transpercer sa chair brûlante

L’oiseau boit la flamme verte Seul témoin de mon espoir

Il jure par le soleil Par la cendre de mes yeux

Par le puits de mes mains blanches

Que je suis sauvée du bruit. Gourmandise d’un silence

Où ma bouche et mon oreille Cueillent un audible fruit Mûri dans la solitude. Gardez-moi de la chanson

Qui tourne au coin de la rue Et de la fille éraillée Qui veut m’appeler sa sœur. Gardez-moi d’un grand amour

Qui trancherait mon courage

Avec un couteau tranquille

Aile aiguisée sur l’azur. Un ami s’en est allé A cheval sur un navire

Au galop vers quel soleil Pas celui de ma fontaine

Trop gris pour lever une aube

A la taille de ses yeux.

Si j’étais morte en rêvant

Rien n’aurait changé de face.

J’avais bien voulu partir

J’ai bien voulu revenir

Revenir à la fontaine

Découvrir la paix prochaine

Où les larmes vont fleurir.

(L’Arbre a Feu : Poemes, Angele Vannier).1950

Ode To A Friend

an ode to the one

friend who

never held through till the end

that one single person

Dandelions-2 (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

who gave up on you

who turned his back

and walked all over you.

If not for him

you would’ve never


that true friends stay strong

no matter the scorn

rather it be vicious intent

or malice justice

life has offered

you in return

a promise of knowledge

will soon  be learned

that no matter how

golden dandelions seem

they end in weeds

that choke their prey

with hidden treason

leaching off their wealth

just to leave

when all is drained

and extinct

never a goodbye or farewell

just slithered away to something new

to start again

the only thing they do.


Taken in Summer 2008, in North West England
Taken in Summer 2008, in North West England (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What sweetness of a farewell

Shared between lovers

The blossom of their love’s bloom

withered away too soon

The spring of their laughter

Silenced by the icy breeze

both Pleading for more

moments to cherish

embracing against thorny roses

which peirce their wounded hearts

leaving behind punctured wounds

never to heal

but meant to remain hollow

never to be filled

reminding of what was

and what used to be

they will be worn proudly

carried lightly

for such a hallow pain

is unknown

when it began

and where it will end.

Though it is painful and numb

love never hurt anyone

we only fear the farewell

that is to come.


This poem is about suicide. It is fiction and does not reflect my views on suicide. I hope I do not  offend anyone with this poem, and if I do I let me know and I’ll take it down. 🙂


With a bullet to the head

Shadow Wreath
Shadow Wreath (Photo credit: jeff_golden)

I end what is now

To begin what

Is unknown.

The fog of naïvety

Cloud over judgment

Only to clear away

When all is done and gone

Leaving only guilt






All that is sought

Is not found

Shadows surround the vessel

That carried a withered soul

That was me

I cannot shout


Don’t go

Don’t leave me

I changed my mind

Come back

They leave


Alone with only my thoughts


Pondering on old regrets

Broken hearts

Hurtful words

How useless now

What a waste


What was the use?

What did I achieve?

Questions old and new

Never to be answered

Soon I join the mute

Who voices and screams

Are never heard

Truly gone and forgotten


Thrust into new cages

I spend eternity living

What should have been

What could have been

I ended Incomplete.