Are you a half-cooked pancake? Cuz you seem soft and fluffy but your insides are a stagnant reservoir of sweetness and lifting you up may reshape you.

Labels: echo, numbers, one-liner, writing

This is where we balance
On this heavy thread
Our days, under pressure
Our nights, encrypted hands
This is what we choose
This is what we hold

Diamonds dipped in gold

We are riding reckless
With no blink wasted
Quick sand, are we sinking
Quick sand, are we rising
This is what we take
This is what we hold

Diamonds dipped in gold

We wear no crown of thorns
Our thoughts form one line
Our hearts, straight into fire
Our charms, petrified luck
This is what we carry
This is what we hold


Previously published in
From Montreal, A La Spezia
Chapbook, 2018

Labels: artform, book, material, poetry, writing

I love you so much
Loved you for so long
Loved you like I was strong
Believing I would now know
What I thought died long ago

Loved you like I was gone
Where you once left fate
Like it was tough for me
To leave the meaning safe
At last I know

Throughout the fall
You held it in
To make it what it was meant to be
Alone and not meandering
To make the road what it wants to be
A dream and not a memory
To bend the highway in
To take it fast and stick with it
Keep falling and never quit

Labels: alarming truthness, artform, folk, love, writing

Childhood demands simple truths, we all should be so lucky to reach them.

Empty eyes crossed and rolled over our honest bones, without speech.

These views, thrown my way, of malice or not, are complicated.

Here is a book of all the looks I have collected through this parade: Download PDF

Labels: book, poetry, tmaol, writing

Don't be afraid to get that favourite T-shirt dirty, that's the best way to a good story.

Labels: one-liner, writing

Hello hello,

This is your tiny poet speaking to you from the bottom of your mason jar. This mission is almost over. A few days to go and I will be hanging my hammock between two bamboo shoots, near the big window. Apologies to all who have been following the trail to a video archive instead of proper blog publications. There is no better way, I suppose, to hint at personal currents than a good old screen bean.

Soon enough, I'll be growing into my shoes again and will have some tasty news to share. For now, all I can offer is a picture of printed word papers stapled together.

Labels: artform, book, material, montreal, poetry, words, writing

Progress appears out of failure
When nothing works
When needs are not met
Light shines off the non existent
Parts and puzzles are pulled apart
To form the new thing
Built because nothing fit quite right
Created because nothing felt quite right
Growing because of strength of support
It will not be commercialized

Labels: artform, inspiration, writing

I want to write something that will make your heart throw itself off your chest.
I want to write something that will make you feel like you are an astronaut.
I want to write something that will wrinkle your coolness.
I want to write something that will cure your ailments.
I want to write something that will change the way you see yourself.
I want to write something that will make you second-guess your beliefs.
I want to write something that will torch the system you live in.
I want to write something that will give you cooties.
I want to write something that will spin you into a state of orgasmic awe.
I want to write something that will populate your dreams with happy clouds.
I want to write something that will make you fall in love with me.
I want to write something that will make you mad as hell.
I want to write something that will travel through walls.
I want to write something that will produce light bulbs.

Labels: amwriting, artform, writing