jeudi 31 mars 2011

the call of the mountains

(cliquez pour fond d'écran d'oregon)

will you take me where
the water runs wild
off the mountainside,
before it reaches the highway,
far from humanity?

will you help me climb
each raggedy path
bordering on nothing
to the foot of the iceberg
where only black flies live?

i will pack a lunch for us,
nothing fancy, peanut butter
sandwiches on buttered toast;
we'll wash them down
with melted snow.

the air will be chilly
in april, but we will not
be cold because
we're using every muscle
to pull us over the rocks.

this felled tree
presents a challenge too:
once you are over it,
will you offer me your hand as i
climb on the first branch?

i need your help because,
as you well know,
my heart has been raging
past the legal age limit
and it makes me vertiginous.

yet, the mountain's call
with her running river
and verdant vistas
is stronger than any
maladie du cœur.

therefore, my darling one,
dress me up in layers
and drive until
nobody can see us
do the impossible.

i'll take my chances
with you behind me,
your hand gently pressed
on my lumbar spine, saving
me from stagnation.

mardi 22 mars 2011


Eugène Carrière. L'amour maternel.

It was a live birth this time
Small white dumpling
on pickled silk
the itch of life so fresh
we bled to death

You soak in our heart
with deep sea eyes
and swallow the heavens:
the miles of flight of years
of salt and bitter tears

Silently you lay and watch
reflexive and infinite:
Grasp a finger white
awaken my deepest pain
and lead me into day


dimanche 20 mars 2011

pour mon fils joseph

a super moon blazed 
all night and into morning
and i thought about you
turning twenty-seven years old
and how amazing you are

you were born on the first day
of spring and the zodiac
the hope for an all new tomorrow
all new reinvented without stain
a pure lamb of god

but how our lives spun
out of control how i crashed
and burned with the weight of years
and how it all touched you
made you afraid and cynical

how i wish i could undo all
the harm i caused you
change the trajectory of your days
and just hold you and tell you
how you are everything

but i cannot find you today
you've removed yourself from
my pain and sickness
just as i did so many years ago
when i left my mother's world

perhaps all young people
must remove themselves
from their parents' foibles
make new lives for themselves
and new families if they can

just know that i am waiting
and that i am patient
as good today as i was 
damaged years ago
and i'll wait forever if i must

nothing shall separate us
not god or illness or jaded memory
the ghost of someone stands
between us but he too
shall part like an ocean

vendredi 18 mars 2011

Jacno Future: Concert et disque

Ne pas à manquer! La Cité de la Musique, Paris, 30/06/11, 20h. Billets 
disponibles dès maintenant.

Le concert va rassembler des grands artistes pour lui rendre hommage: Etienne Daho, Jacques Higelin, Benjamin Biolay, Christophe, Dominique A, Miossec, Arthur H, Thomas Dutronc, Coming Soon, Brigitte Fontaine, Alex Beaupain & Fred Lo, Alexandre Chatelard...

Amis ou admirateurs revisitent le temps d’une unique soirée l’oeuvre de Jacno, disparu en 2009 (même année qu'Alain Bashung). Des Stinky Toys jusqu'à ses disques en solo, en passant par le duo Elli & Jacno...

Sortie de l’album Jacno future (Polydor/Universal) le 6 juin 2011.

mercredi 16 mars 2011

high alert!

we're in meltdown again
overhot, anxious, rapid heartbeat
blood is pooling at our ankles
away from the central nervous system
and lights are blinking
high alert! high alert! high alert!

with all these years under our belt
why didn't we tear down the intruder
why did we wait until he was here again
offering us his apocalyptic visions
spiraling us down to melting metals
poison gases and unproductive think tanks

high alert! i feel it in my belly
i cover my breasts with my hands
buy iodine drops and call my parents
or try not to think about it at all
go about my daily life like a caged mouse
my throat raw and swollen

if we get through this one
will we change the energy trajectory
go for the sun moon and stars
or will we go on as before
separating molecules, merging gases
creating new cell lines, spawning new viruses

science is not coming to save us
it is creating monsters
and perhaps not one of them
but many intruders shall come calling
entering our lives and homes
stealing away our children

dimanche 13 mars 2011

Blue Monday

pour Alain Bashung

Paroles et musique: Laura Tattoo
Piano: Ron Walker

Blue Monday
Blue Monday
Deux ans sans toi
Two years without you
Deux ans déjà
Two years gone by
Blue Monday
Blue Monday
Vivre sans toi
To live without you
Je ne peux pas
I cannot
Blue Monday
Blue Monday

Le lundi bleu
This Monday blue
Couvre le feu
Cover the fire
L'ami douleur
My friend pain
N'a qu'une couleur
Has only one color
La nuit je mens¹
At night I lie
Et puis je rentre
And then I return
Seule et distante
Alone and distant

Blue Monday
Blue Monday
Dis les mots bleus²
Say the blue words
Qu'on a dans les yeux
That are found in the eyes
Blue Monday
Blue Monday
Faut dégager
Must remove
Ton sacré pieu³
Your terrible stake
Blue Monday
Blue Monday

Le lundi bleu
This Monday blue
Couvre le feu
Cover the fire
L'ami douleur
My friend sorrow
N'a qu'une couleur
Has only one color
Si loin de moi⁴
So far from me
Dans l'au-delà
In the beyond
Seul et distant
Alone and distant

Blue Monday
Blue Monday
Ton imprudence⁵
Your imprudence
En face la mort
In the face of death
Blue Monday
Blue Monday
Parle tout bas
Speak ever softly
Le chagrin en moi
The sadness in me
Blue Monday
Blue Monday

Si loin de moi
So far from me
Dans l'au-delà
In the beyond
Loin de la france
So far from France
Et ses résidents⁶
And her residents
Tes chansons mortelles 
Your fatal songs
Qui donnent la croyance
That give us faith
Quel différence
What a difference
Sans toi
Without you

Blue Monday
Blue Monday
Deux ans sans toi
Two years without you
Deux ans déjà
Two years gone by
Blue Monday
Blue Monday
Vivre sans toi
To live without you
Je ne veux pas
I don't want to
Blue Monday ...

Song Références:

¹La nuit je mens (At Night I Lie)
²Les mots bleus (Blue Words)
³Mes bras (My Arms)
⁴Tant de nuits (So Many Nights)
⁶Résidents de la République

lundi 7 mars 2011

Story's End

Photo by Ron Walker

I guess every story has an ending,
every person, every grain of sand.
I tend not to think about it
though I've had a few of them...

Inside every rock are infinite particles
settling into cliffs and oceans,
statues built to Rome and war,
Caesar this, Caesar that,
whilst the coloseum roars with
triumphant glory!

Somebody died today,
sound the gong:
perhaps this time it is Mother Earth.

How long will she be here to guide us,
she who is so vulnerable?
Why do we always forget her
in our business equations?

We'd die without her comforts
her warmth, her spring showers,
her wonderful foodstuffs,

Her shapeshifting winters,
her tremors and floods,
her carcinogenic viruses...
I guess we all have to die someday.

But I wouldn't be caught dead
in deep space or the solar wind,
I'd tumble unencumbered and preserved
or be heated up like water,
effervescent, then boiling.

It's a joke how we take
our mothers for granted.

None are perfect although
we want to be the One.
Just wait another ten or twenty years
until the first injury comes
and you're figuring it out on the run
or in terrible denial,
whatever is best for the kid,
bear it all or
dump it!

I did both
through foolishness
and acute gullibility.
I hope you will forgive me:
There was a third way.

And now as I honor my own mothers,
All seven generations of them,
I can't even imagine
life without technology!
The world must have been a
hard and lonely place
without human networking.

I remember a lot of good these days
and I'm forgetting the bad.
Why hold on to it? 
I let it glide into space
to evaporate with the best of them.

There are just so many years
left to become graceful
before the story's end.

Dance and make love.
Write a poem.
Paint a landscape.
Capture earth's beauty.

Then sleep and dream it again.
That's all I can do
and it's usually enough
to keep me interested.

dimanche 6 mars 2011

At the Beach

Sunset Beach, Oregon

It's odd to live
fifteen minutes from the ocean
yet never see it

Blind alleys these diseases
the doors slam shut
just thinking about it

I am not crazy
I'm nauseous
but you manage to persuade

The seagull is on her belly
taking in the warm sand
she ain't movin'

Then suddenly with flapping wings
stretching three times her body
she lifts into a gentle gale

It's all blue skies from here
with streaks of white cumulus
and a setting sun of white hot lava

Burns our retinas
warms our purple lids and chapped lips
a straight hot line cutting into the horizon

And the sound sound sound
surrounding the auditory nerves
rumbling tremolo, pure verve

I remember it all
from the dawn of time
where ovum meets sperm

The sickness, the rhum
the drummer and his drum
the romantic nonsense

Here at seaside
there's a glimpse of life
riding on these tides

I remember it all
running into the icy floes
as all the sickness left me

Perhaps you remember too
five years ago, Depot Bay
on our summer vacation

Me jumping and laughing
as the waves crested
at my still slim ankles

The sea was a healing
a miracle we couldn't bottle
with the slipping sands of time

Back here at the beach
the gulls have disappeared
while the sun sinks into a cloudbank

I take a deep breath
to remember it
when the last sun is setting

When the ears go deaf
when the last bird has fled
from the dizzying din of ocean

samedi 5 mars 2011

Thiéfaine - Trois Poèmes Pour Annabel Lee

une belle découverte d'Hubert-Félix Thiéfaine, avec des remerciements à mon amie brigitte
qui partage avec moi toujours les meilleures chansons. xoxoxoxooxox

jeudi 3 mars 2011


Picasso, Mère et enfant

for Kim...

take your time
it's a lot to swallow
tomorrow and tomorrow
without her

she was the garden
that bloomed every spring
she was the calla lily
and the robin

in the summer she was ice tea
and a summer salad
she always looked so cool
in her sleeveless blouses

in the fall she pruned the roses
and washed the blankets
some of them went perfectly folded
to charity

you could hear her humming
in the kitchen when you came in
from a wintry day
cold and dripping

after finding you a towel
she made you soup
and a sandwich
you knew you were home

now that she is gone
the world is lonelier
for no one will ever love you
the way that she did

in her garden
you look up at the trees
the wind comes up suddenly
and kisses your hair

just for a moment
you feel her there
in her garden
outside the kitchen door

tears well up
as you remember how
she gently taught you
to say thank you