I, like a Black-in-the-box

Spinning upon myself and swirling around,  

Things stubbornly remain the same in the mist of small evidence of progress,

The colorful hues of a disheveled rainbow besieging the fortress of Whiteness.

Deep down, I am what I am but in Your eyes

I can only be either THE frightening frizzy devil or YOUR exotic god,

Which has caused my true, inner self to crouch behind and watch over

That short-tempered, wiggling and lonely mask of mine.

'Tale of two kisses' by Trendance

O beloved, behold this moving painting - a Kingdom of boredom, routines of Household,

And somewhere, in the faraway country, the deafening bells of desire are chiming tenfold.

I thus boldly depart from Melody and her ∞ blindfold

Deaf to her shattered dreams, Foreign to her vale of tears.

I promptly head towards newly-met Alice

Thus avoiding Wanderland and its uncertainties.

Pleasure, Pleasure, my home for a minute's pleasure.

But the scorching disc already fades away

And the silver crescent brutally lights up

To reveal a doomed landscape of Meadows od sorrows, of plains of pains.

Meanwhile a reclusive battle between my forlorn hope and my strong despair

Is already raging, shattering my bloody brain and my throbbing heart.

Up in the diamond-ridden skies, whirling at close quarters, the ancient soothsayers’ black birds shriek -

‘Thou shall return to the  fold²’.

'Tribute to the White Bulls' by Trendance

Relieved of a promised despair,
Clinging to a pending future,
Half blind, nearly dried out but still alive,
Propelled in the exodus across the sandy ocean,
We stubbornly shuffle North,
Towards the oasis of fantasy and delusion,
Wrapped up in the bittersweet presence of our once French elders,
These holders of the now deprived sacred fire.
Ah, Fathers… Won’t you tell me again the story of your glorious time?
Won’t you narrate anew THE history of your long-faded pride…
Balthasar, Sundiata, Mansa Musa and the lost French empire?
But now rejoice, Brothers of Progress
For beyond these dunes and rivers,
Those streams and deserts
Far away from the fateful misery and tyranny of our villages
Lies in the offing Europe’s coveted fortress
And its lush Elysian fields.  

'Hopeless Optimism' by Trendance

Our smoke, debris and damage,

My spite, frailty and rage,

Between tremendous natural disasters and the tedious daily routine,

The misery-ridden overpopulated Stone madly spins faster²

And worryingly gravitates around its cracked self.

What is left in this plight? What is right in which is left?

Our warmth, security and measure,

My hope, reverie and pleasure,

I rouse from the excruciating non-reversible earthly mess

And ride the long-surfed benevolent ripple to smoothly land on spotless Cloud nine.

'Writing' by Trendance

I think we must head for precision
In this bewildered world of delusion.

The poem I write by its shortness
undoubtedly indicates
This desire for non excess.

I hate reading never-ending narratives
For all that is sensitive
Fades away like the yet wrinkled eve.

Trendance

'A Roman celebration' by Trendance

Chased by the Evil Spirit,
My Soul took refuge in the Ancient coliseum.
Some trumpets performed some old victorious tune
And a priest limped to me and spat on my left hand;
Silence spread virgin-like: the Crowd and the Crow were waiting for blood to be shed and shared...
All of a sudden, children ran in screaming
Followed by some slobbering and maddening Wild Beasts...
The Crowd is shouting now and my body kneels, his hand in his hands.
And Caligula dressed in his white, immaculate toga stood up
And I found myself in his shadow, the shadow of his right thumb
That was slowly pointing down...
Down to the yet wet and cursed sand of the merciless and decadent Arena.

Trendance

'Private and universal matter' by Trendance

Nightmare of the night, dream of death,
Three hundred and sixty-five nights ago,
I saw myself plunging into the depths
Of the terrible Inferno!
No wild creature, no excessive heat
But worse than anything else
The eternal echo of a perpetual beat.
A hubbub to the Soul, a roaring to the Body;
No break, 'it this what is called 'Hell'?'
But suddenly from this pitch-dark night
A beam of light appeared and before the noise ceased
I ebbed like the tide and lay motionless.
But, in the open air, I uttered a cry
For at that very moment I finally realized
That Death was in fact life, for I was born again that very night.

Trendance

'The fall' by Trendance

You majestic Sun, Master of the Universe
Around which every star turns! You H.,
Tireless traveller whose pride is to fly around
And that by all ancient peoples has always been revered...
What a fall!What a shamethat your own child
Was turned insane by a Pagan creature;
And Pasiphae gave the City through the Sea-God's curse
A fearful and terrible monster, Death in a maze!

Trendance

'A Kamikaze's sigh' by Trendance

At last, the bell has rung and I am
To climb the Sacred Mountain!
I glide like the tide
To the end of the shore.
My Soul longs to purify all my earthly sins...
But my body can't help chilling!
And outside I can see through the glass-panes
Facing my wings shining like sharp blades
The clear darkness of the new and ultimate dawn
That is gently calling my name...

Trendance

'Ode for a birthday' by Trendance

The Angel flies smiling with its whitest smile,
The Sylvan creature dances in a joyful frenzy;
The Old Man stares down,
And the Child looks up for the last time;
And today I bow to you, you the ephemeral Queen
That so short a day has crowned!

Trendance

'Death of a shooting-star' by Trendance

Somke in my head and the River runs straight
Senses turn crazy like burning coal in dry grass.
I slowly burn alive. Have you eveer heard of spontaneous combustion?
I enter another sphere and I am like fucked up.
Psychedelic colors, dizziness and Jimi's screams!
The bridge collapses, I spread my wings and I fly over the seven seas.
But the word 'terminus' appears, on the screen and I jump
Both feet in an endless and greedy black hole...

Trendance

'Exodus' by Trendance

Touched by the Ancient Mariner's arrow,
Alone among my people, isolated in the crowd,
I am here waiting for something to come!
The noise of the waves, the smell of salt,
We stand on a quay, silent and still.
Drops of water through my soul, a haze in my eyes...
The black veil has fallen, fallen down on my life
And the white fog has wrapped up my name.
Only the echoes of the Past ring in our memories
Like the icy bell of the knell.
Charon's boast is coming!The underworld's bottom appears!
Blood, tears and sweat, relics of the body,
We enter the glommy belly of darkness.
I just think of myself as a stone
But I am here in the hold,
Washed away by the Black stream of treachery
My eyes to the missing moon, I can feel its icy light
That guides the fateful steersman who sails to this isle,
This white-hot stone of my eternal nostalgia.

Trendance

'Black and blue' by Trendance

They say the day eclipses the night, that peace succeeds fights.

But I still can’t see any light, nor can I glimpse that things straighten out.

I look up below the clouds, nothing stirs, no one in sight.

No loving gods, no leading fathers, no inspiring models –

only the chilling shadow of high risers, the statues and streetnames of long-forgotten achievers

And the unattainable obsessing dreams behind glossy screens.

My lost planet orbits shopping centres, abusive girls and jumping jacks.

Will older age improve my gloomy blight? But in the meanwhile,

Surrounded by teachers, social workers and police officers,

‘Today, today – is it eventually going to be the day

When I forget yesterday and do not dread tomorrow?’

Trendance

'The Tremors of a Great Divide' by Trendance

A long time ago or was it in another life,

I once witnessed the epiphany of passion blossom in your gilded eyes

But today where is that flash of joy you triggered in my once bitter heart,

A well-preserved islet lost in the tormented wilderness?

I long for this accustomed glitter the absence of which bears the unsufferable mark of the great divide.

Trendance

'Unexpected dawn' by Trendance

The autumn of our mutual care has heavily dropped on the hazy heath
So the whistle of the nightingale has swiftly been muffled as if
A shrill shiver of dissent had run through a sound body of knowledge.
And this smile - born deep in your abyssal eyes - now twisting into a harmful grin
Conspicuously rejoices at my helpless distress and bottomless needs.
A tornado - that's what it is! - triggered by a once-pretty treacherous butterfly
Flapping the lascivious sighs and washing the blossoming dreams
Off the shores of our past assurance.

Trendance