
Poetry corner
On this page are published some of my poems or texts generally written in my adolescence.
They were never published perhaps out of modesty... There is also a certain naivety, humor perhaps also in the writing and the way of thinking.
So I'm giving it a try today to publish some of them.
See also my page biography well as the illustrations on surrealism page

Waiting
of reason
Everyone is waiting
wait what why
Life is made of waiting
Of a new day
Of a new hour
Of a new meal
Even the worker waits for his Sunday
So the old man bides his time
We also wait to love each other
Even a mother expecting a child
And a petanque player waits his turn
As also the dog waits for his master
Even the idealists await their revolution
What the world is patient
Memory
She kissed me on the cheek
I stood still
Me, surprised by this small sincere gesture
No that wasn't love
But a pure and simple desire
It was sincere
She had problems
She had her loneliness
Alone against all the storms
Who are unleashed against her
The bouncy and wild curly hair
The look lost even a little humiliated
Faded and patched jeans
She told me you it's not the same
I did not react
I may have heard wrong I was not sure
Now I'm sure and it's too late
One day she came back to class
By putting green on her lips
I said to myself it's not okay
Then always late I understood
That it was her way of expressing herself
To show that she didn't agree
To reveal his nonconformity
That we said age of reason
Me now I say
Want to live with simplicity, simply burst
As soon as we understand things
We realize that it is always a bit late
To do well to catch up
We regret we have remorse
And sometimes it's deadly
So one more time when we feel remorse
For things past
For details that we missed
By impotence or cowardice
I say that we always have the age of reason
Rays of sunshine are escaping
From your cherry mouth
The hazy atmosphere softens
The features of your face tenderly
And your eyes dig into my intimidated soul
You are present memory
Dominating my space, my memory
I hang you from the ceiling
To better penetrate me into you, your gaze
Lying calm with maybe a regret
That of not being able to reach your wild hair
I'm grateful
Havingfilled my loneliness as a man
In the palm of your hands your life
I seek to be me in my silence
Who is talking to you
Will you respond to my invitation of love
To my stranger's soul from a passerby
I seem to have glimpsed one of those rare and precious stars
What to keep to yourself
Retain the essential
Making that we are no longer strangers
starry gaze
Cherry mouth
Teeth surprised smile in flight
Humid

Languorous passers-by
walk headlong
On a carpet of pleated leaves
Bare and unhappy plane trees
Not a bird flies
Beneath this damned darkness
Not a bug on the floor
Wet and cleaned
Along the sidewalks streams
This water from the sky
And with a continuous rustle
Quickly down the avenue
Under this heavy and black sky
There on the surrounding hills
You can easily see
Smoke from the swirling cottages
So this morning freshness
Envelops the banal atmosphere
Ofold Breton village
Or often it rains I am told

SALERNO Jean-Marc - tel: 06.82.34.35.50 - salernophotographie@gmail.com -SIRET: 90373373100017 - APE: 7420Z
Site created on 08/02/2022
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