Category Archives: Bohemia


All was well until nineteen-ninety-six;
Sacrifice to the glory of Lord,
I accomplish by choice this ritual;
Join the Order of the Phoenix
Before the fall of Voldemort;
I have to kill and steal gold.
Forced to be what I am,
I execute the prophecy.

In the opaque clouds, traveling castle;
Insulting silently, signing without decency.
Dementia facing the opulence of its imminences,
Preference for intelligence and resilience.
They do not crack down in these lines;
As a disciple, anticipates and
Amplifies without cyprin, spreads the pact
As a philosopher without school, as a frivolous emancipator.

Willingness to know which ends up in “wanting”,
Not in “having”, clean your bib;
Can you claim to be free? Exhilaration,
In the cenacle, I refuse fiction and artifices.
Rectify, your free will is paid for the  show son.
No illumination on the present situation;
So I present: binary reports,
Jelly of creatures produced to reproduce
Avoiding to open up to the other way.
The other guy lies a lot.

Fuck the court of simulacra;
Jab, ignorant educated with care;
Make the hustler without yielding to the dominant as an
Obsolete educated in front of the whores;
False promises, they grow fat;
We bury ourselves, we enlighten ourselves;
We stretch out, we go out:
Our destiny rubs off Evil.
You’re the master’s vibromasseur,
You disgust me, you touch me slightly …

Correspondence without the nuances of the mask,
Birth in the violence of fast.



I’m crusing the sky as you pound the earth.
In this life, stuck in the purgatory
I will not be deceived by these dogs of hell any more.
Locked, enferred, pigheaded, in the lead and
In search of lost illusion,
At the edge of nothingness, I no longer waste my time
With these disbelievers, or these guys too slow;
Everyone thinks himself intelligent; but how many really are?

Who am I to judge trivialized mediocrity,
Calamities we should just knock down , that is the idea.
I reiterate, bitter insolence.
I prefer the sea and silence
To that shit they’re throwing at us.
I need to hide, I have only the plan;
Not there to be in the place of the dead;
Cut the transistor, take your rise.

Stop making you strong, stop making you proud.
We must not do so, no, you must not do so.

I descend into the bowels of hell
Hurting me, am I proud of it?
I lose my landmarks, but I rejoice;
This malaise allows me to be, it’s true.
I’m pale, but not an alcoholic.
Damn, everything’s going too fast;
I lost the instructions, you will remain novice,
Simple allegory facing our ennobled lives.

Humble, I climb the steps without looking at these douchebags.
I started my tank, I come to burst your skulls.
I use my brain, while they serve you
Pretty cups and operate your soul.
I throw this opera into the flames.
You gaze our renegades, go push yourself in the algae.
Fishing net for those who pierce the arcane;
Deviate from the alley or cooperate, fuck I have to remain calm.

They only think to avoid it,
You only think to skimp
I only think about levitating
Let them look at my ideas


Lost Innocence

No time, no money,
No plan, no time,
No money, no plan.

Just the room, some talent,
Some quiet when – I stretch white.

The slow guy – is agreeing,
But gone, not here.
The heavy guy – is everywhere,
But polite, enlarged.

Overwhelming, overwhelmed.
At table, and lie …
I relish, they disgust me.
Accelerate, or worship.
Wherever you are, he will have you,
The nightmare. It’s stupid,
We know it, we conceive it.
We’ll say: “we’ll see.”

Artistic purpose

Maybe I should do it for money,
I would have plenty of time to do art …
I’m hungry, it’s already too late!
I impede power, I defy power …

Rigorous work against the silent mafia;
No limit to my reality,
Lying under an apple tree, I wait for the idea.
And they say to themselves: “but why
Is he going in the opposite direction? ”

I don’t want to play anymore, I don’t have foot.
Continue stammering, waiting
The bullet, foraging.
I defy everyday life,
I close it when you sing.
No! No anarchism,
Here we are in nanard-chy;
I don’t want this limited role any longer,
So open to me the doors of the Elysee
To dismiss the whole army.

Bind constantly throughout the year,
But propaganda will never cease to exist,
So you will continue to dream of beauty
And to respond to authority.
Do I have to use their methods?
Model my personality to enter their codes?
No, I dodge and
I explain to you my solid soliloquy.
It’s my turn to distract you with a little mystery,
While they exaggerate the great popular tendencies.

You must accept it, don’t trust it.
Standardize thought without a limited budget.
Designed to meet market demands
That doesn’t risk stimulating new ways of thinking.

Then art for art,
Or art for money?
I start, I’m afraid of getting tired
And to have to put the bundles together.
Already certain of the conversion,
I had to end the conversation.

Lost Smile

The naive smile of the child that expand fascinates me;
Vague memory of a sleeping future that stretches and goes out.
This heart caught off guard, who is ashamed, who counts;
Months, years to pass; It only remains to make the laying.
To caress illusory hope, before finally falling.
Why not try to revive the fire, if he’s affected?
Play fair game, yield to confessions, commit without farewell.
Who knew how to plant and supplant this bitter magisterium?

Should we guide this innocent man over the dead road?
Should we create the evidence of the existence I report?
Bloody reality that the ink can’t sufficiently blacken.
In my imagination, I thought he was pale at the only sketch of vice,
While he laughed with desire, detached from the sleeping society
Which dictate the staging and launch his hatred.


Tears can’t stain this incurable pain.
Tucked in the shadow, ready to bustle, inexhaustible.
Difficult is the access to the right path, surrounded by these lost lackeys.
Without wings, I will fly away anyway, even if they sadden me and clutch my feets to prevent me from climbing.

So much pain for this little heart that chokes,
But doesn’t breathe a word about it.

I cursed their weakness by remaining calm, by discipline.
They become vile, as they are servile in these big cities.
This poison, my medication, acts like a fortifier, far too wary
I can’t obey their destiny marked with red iron.

Silent cry that no longer moves the packs; (I must move!)
The lost masses slide and undergo; (I pull on the mask).
Incapables incapable of not grabing the palpable; (I’m ready!)
My greatness is only equal to the blackness of my ills; (memorize).
My words, laughingstock, but cunning; Under a dim light, you’ve bet,
You loose, you’re lost, you can no longer, you want more!

The wise man confronts the ape man;
Freedom, a conquest that is sought away from honors.
For some, a simple market value
That they exchange against the acceptance of legitimated inequalities.

Become the accomplice, remain novice.
Rotten for nothing, hope nothing
Can disrupt your prison
Of vices, no mission.

Dear to the codes of a culture that don’t seek cloned clowns,
What if I finish like George Clooney?
All these humans seem possessed by the Stockholm Syndrome
While I take myself for Sherlock Holmes.

Unfortunately too complex for the perplexed idiots,
They will see me as a crazy without complex
Completely disconnected from their reality,
Shaped for so many years.

Glory to advanced capitalism.

Hidden From the Masses

Completely invisible, I invite a fool to speak in my stead.
I don’t belong here, I aim the after.
After all, that’s all I can do:
Share my ideas in invitations made by harmful factories.

At night everything is more readable;
The illegal dominates right away,
You understand the game well,
But you can’t make the dominoes fall.

The intellectual abdication is such that reading a book is difficult, almost impossible!
The past is erased, the erasure forgotten, and the lie becomes truth.
The most domesticated have hooked an animal to a leash;
Under the collar, they abandon their forgotten frustrations.

Those who don’t know that they don’t know are venturing into the eye of the cyclone,
From a distance, bloated clones of pride.

Thus, my singularity is confirmed and asserted.
I waver and oscillate between the bourgeois ogre and the poor of the proletariat,
Without ever forgiving these two scoundrels.
And in the shadows, my destiny is fulfilled without being robbed of my innate identity.


The sparkling star is turning off,
Yet I embrace the great disaster.
History, a loop,
A very supple accessory.
A message that spares households;
The totem transforms them into golems.

Meninges, they have no more.
They dig (they dig), I can’t stand it anymore.
I move, fleeing the glory of nothingness,
The silence peacefully extends …

I put a lot of time to lose,
Lying in the grass;
But everything disappears in the appearance …

Soothsayer lying on a couch;
Tomorrow, listen to each other for a while.
Emits poorly, bad signal.
I point out myself, original.


New armchair, soon coffin;
New show, new issues?
The puppets are preparing to enter the scene.
The majorettes stop at the staging.

This television will not form my vision.
I pay too much attention to their mission.
This futility appears to me as stupidity,
It’s a banality so calculated.

The invisible threads are visible to me,
The sons, one visible, are unutterable to them.
Invincible is this reality for such an agile wine.
My gospel is falsified and so gracile.

Their mischievous stakes move me
But I remain serious.
Entertainment expands,
Deceive, fascinates me,
But takes strange turns.

On the walls: advertisements, money, whores.
Clubs, moons, struggles persist.
Blood on the walls. Immure your fears,
You’re frightening by quietly
Whispering to the people your kind censures.

Endure the test, the proofs are sure.
For sure, in evil,
You’re just designed to stop thinking.
Heal, thoughts, I don’t think anymore
About advertisements, money, whores.

Schizophrenic Culture [EN]


As they sink into the highways of lies,
In his dreams, he prepares a new hunt.
He struggled to find the path of truth,
Truly, you are so far from reality that you no longer even see that you are defeated;
Oh, well, you think that’s life,
You don’t even see the days passing,
Unbridled girls who dictate you when to jizz,
Just to say, that you directly feel better, but in fact … Uh …

They can think for you, don’t worry
They can heal your troubles, don’t worry
You just have to let yourself be guided by their truth
Don’t try to verify and be happy to nod
And then stay there to vegetate, like Vegeta you will never be the first!

Strip away your sterile frustrations,
Let your futile feelings flow,
Oscillate between escape and silence,
Waste, between emptiness and power.

Incessant groans – so tiring – have pushed him to the confines of nothingness
A foot on the ground, formerly so proud, he made himself the scapegoat of his peers,
Magnetizing the mistakes made from others,
Their multiplied lies, ultimate recourse to unreality

Thousand efforts erased in a split second
Thousand vociferous but vain truths, locked without waiting
Depressing statement that one inflicts
Imminent crash and fall
A few tears, little appetite
And little by little the taste of life disappears

Quickly flee all of this, go away from here,
Move out there, far from the clutter.
Of these ferocious figures, fascinated by so little …
Of these atrocious cracks, abandoned by the gods
Quickly hide all of this, go away from here,
Escape there, away from a bunch of

Bullshit constantly supported,
Thought as permanent,
But violent and invented, imposed.
Acculturated populations, ignoring the ignored
Easily fascinated by decadence, inevitably fleeing excellence

The dissident culture distorts your dystopian reality… (to be continued)