Category Archives: Political philosophy

Bohemia, English translation, Poetry, Political philosophy, Writings

Breathing

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.

Bohemia, English translation, Poetry, Political philosophy, Writings

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.

English translation, Poetry, Political philosophy, Writings

T-Vision

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.

English translation, Poetry, Political philosophy, Writings

Schizophrenic Culture [EN]

Quote

 

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)

English translation, Poetry, Political philosophy, Writings

Submission

O proletarian submitted to fascism,
What do you observe in capitalism?
Individual dispossessed of himself by choice,
Alternative you will not have.

Copy your masters to hope to exist,
So you can revel in the illusion of freedom
That only death will finally offer you,
After all you’ve been through.

Entertainment is an invigorating bath
That you must prescribe yourself continually.
Be faithful to this theorem, this glorious phenomenon
That brings you to the top of the system.

Drowned in the trickery of an industry
Which is no longer a theory,
Forget compassion, companion! Because your rebellion
Will only bring your exclusion from this civilization.

English translation, Poetry, Political philosophy, Writings

The Factory

Quote

The Factory

Time ; Wisdom ; Money ; Speed
Factory, Modernity ; Putrid, Reality.
Storefront, banality ; Chrysalis, Trapped.

Shaped by unremitting repetition, and finally erased facing a tireless sophistication,
The human stupefied himself in his manufactures before being confined in his car,
Then he vanishes in his offices, praying in vain to win the lottery.
Entangled in the stock market race like vultures, what a beautiful course …
Hands in front of the eyes … Please, shut up, it’s hollow.
Pay your bills and consume so that in sum you can offer yourself the last IPhone.
Do not question anything, continue your vain action;
Be greedy and glide over the wave of pleasure, drown yourself in the industry of desire.

Citizens become consumers, through the hands of fabulators;
Thrown into a large pit, broken in a single breath,
Chew mechanically for enrichment
Of a minority disconnected from realities, the echo of a sad truth astray,
Captured by this sad bird, casino capitalism.

Overwhelmed by a tiresome and passable work, you are distressing,
Exhausted, you don’t have time to think anymore, you are annoying,
Lock yourself in this pathetic false life if it pleases you,
Know that you clearly make me vomit, your avid ignorance is my suffering for life.

You have condemned yourself wrongly to death as a redneck gentleman,
Thinking you would reach the top you are stunned, that’s serious,
Ron you no longer feel the weight of their nonsense constantly interfering,
If only you could see, if only you knew, if only …

I’m focused to center myself on truth,
Leaving me to a desolate reality of all freedom,
Sickened by the matrix, I get used to it,
Controlled by your caprices, you capitulate.

While the sophists are laughing in their graves,
An earthquake stretches and prepares in the only darkness;
The fossils oscillate under the heaviness of silence,
The awareness grows.

 

English translation, Poetry, Political philosophy, Writings

Chess and Math

Sometimes he sacrifices his two towers to save his king,
And the pawns move quickly.
An invisible hand moves forward, her shadow hovering on the game;
Suddenly she takes one and advances it;
But it’s only a sacrifice for a cause that surpasses them all.
Some crazy avoid the known paths,
Preferring diagonal reflections,
Hating going straight ahead without asking questions.
Are they involved? Are they outdated?
Anyway they are part of the game …

Black or white, or perhaps red or blue, a drastic choice is required.
Everything is calculations and forecasts, cumulation and falsification;
Divert attention to better advance the master piece;
When the Queen comes into play, all the others collapse:
She advances in all directions,
Takes up the role of the pawn, makes the bishop and its twin towers invisible.
She and her king form this perfect duo,
Sitting on their omnipotence, with an unshakeable appearance.

But sometimes, their underlings associate and deliver the game:
Attention has been diverted …
They forgot the knight;

Chess and Math.

English translation, Poetry, Political philosophy, Writings

Alone

In 2014, to surpass the simple framework of music, I decided to think about a prose. First written in French, I decided to translate it to reach the majority of my audience who happens to be English.

This writing explains the construction of my track ‘Alone‘ and my creative process. This musical composition was released in October 2014 on Gradient Audio (USA).

 

Alone

Alone, he takes a damn advantage because he has realized;
Alone, he decided to distance ignorance through knowledge.

There are times during which he staggers and it makes up for himself,
He feels weak, he closes up, keeping truth to themselves,
He creates a second personality to manage the situation
Trapped in a reality that he created, circled, delimited,
Why should he be classified to one side when the hemicycle is complete nonsense?
He simply calls for the “true truth”, attempting to be a humanist at his earned hours …

Alone, he distances himself from this madness, “information” control their affable reflection;
Alone he dissociated himself from this unconsciousness, the abomination enslaves their low observation.

In the beginning – it’s true – he attempted to raise awareness around,
But the truth seems hard to bear, to substantiate,
Tirelessly, Man prefers the simple over the complex,
He prefers to remain conditioned to be controlled, to be effaced,
Finally why seek to rise when you can be content with uselessness?
He wanted to help, wake up, but he has been put off by so many prejudices…

That is how, left to his own solitude, separated from his pears, dismissed to mere silence and
Subjected to his incessant questioning, that the set has finally made sense:
Alone, we consent to be simple spectators with no organization, without ambition;
Alone, we lower our chines under the threat and terror of our masters, lions.

Run away from the sadness and fright, it’s time,
To step away from the television which is rotting you from the inside,
You must disenchant and emancipate yourself from Edward Bernays secretive projects,
You must distance yourself from “your” prefabricated ideas planted in your mind for so many years,
How can you tolerate such significant disparities? Where is equality hidden?
Democracy? No! Joke in agony, ran by firms for decades…
Your feeling of isolation is important for their manufacturing of consent,
Don’t gobble messages from their “wise” gorged of lies smashing your dreams!

While this obscure crisis remains, acquired is the imposture,
At the edge of decency, what decadence, should we approach the issue the other way around?
Don’t listen to those conformist erudites, who throw down the wrong paths,
In the dusk of totalitarian capitalism, the small group reaches its secular paroxysm,
Take some altitude, erase your certainties, it’s only the prelude,
Untangle your reflection, divorce from individualization: begin the evolution.

We are never alone.