Tag Archives: poetry

Coming Soon

9 Jan

A very Nice Photo..Makeup..Creative..Fashionable..Poetical Project with PapaRosa. More soon.

**
Credits:
Model, Anne Sophie Monfront
Fashion Designer / Stylist / Brand Creator, Marie Ange Giordano
Photographer & Makeup Artist, Miss Poppins

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Passages, Puppets, Windows and Shadows.

4 Jan

Words come out at night, when i’m about to close my eyes, when i loosen up the guard and let go. They run about freely, whisper in my head. They morph into sinuous creatures and puppeteer my thoughts.

**

Tired eyes for a Sleepless Mind,
i wish that my Heart was more, of the Fearless kind.
I sleep in Daylight,
’cause the white Ghosts can’t be seen,
I stare at the Moon, right,
until the sky turns grey, before the sun kicks in.
Without the Sun i can’t stretch my lips,
the cold numbs my Hands and i lose my grip.
Frozen fingers await those who Hold onto things too long,
so i’m letting him go, but don’t think i’m strong.

// FROZEN LIPS & GILDED HEART.

In my Veins runs India Ink.

29 Dec

//
Deep in my Sleep, I feel her Eyes staring at me into the dark. Wild Animals, restless, shaking from fear.
I know they have been hurt before and tracked a thousand miles.
I know it will take a hundred Sunsets for Her to Trust again.
‘Know that she’ll long be watching me, as I slide into sleep, soon after sunset.
Long before she dares closing an eye, keeping the other on my breath, tracking my Dreams.
She’s only trippin’ asleep, and I wish she could fall with me. Fall in love, fall asleep in my arms.
And till the Night comes, I’ll keep lookin’ for Stars within the black moons she wears, under her eyes.

– black moons are for sleepwalkers and dreamers, of the Vivid.
**

Pre-Halloween Photo Booth

31 Oct

Running away with Ghosts,
those who build stories in your head and laugh at your Fears, throwing them away from your Dreams..
So you can sleep at night,

So you never forget how to write my name.

**
The BEST way to celebrate anything, is to celebrate it before anyone else, and DO IT DIFFERENTLY, especially when looks or make-up are involved. In fact, those paper eyelashes are the same kind of the ones i had made for a shoot in India that had been great fun too.
(btw: on the same note, i was hopping to find a black TUTU for a wedding.. if anyone could help me on that, it seems rather hard to find, even in Paris and at the fripperies..so HELP!).

Message In a Bottle

25 Oct

Cheat on your Loves in your sleep, for that the one you dream of, might be the one worth it.
Sweet in your nightmares, bitter in your dreams, i’ll come to you without the mask i wear for the vain lovers.

My breath is calm and my heart slows down, feel it pulse on my lips, as you find me lying down.
My eyes shut when yours open wide, for our nights and Days, fade into each other.

Nightmare an End to my dreams, i’ll dream an end to your nightmares, both may come true.
Dream of me bitter-sweet, because such is life, Stars are both beautiful and Dead.

Daytime Star Gazer

23 Oct

He who dreams eyes wide open, staring at the stars at night.  He you will call strange. He who sleepwalks when you run in the daytime. He who’s got nothing to envy you, when you can’t sleep because you’re holding onto other people’s dreams..

Street Kiss

29 Sep

Headless couple, kissing in a corner, where their path split.
Their Intimacy preserved by the white indifference of the street.

Trois P’tits Tours et puis S’en Vont..

25 Sep

Pigeons are the Rats of Paris.

**
Feathery WIngs and Tearful Kings,
Dancing hand in hand,
Reckless Dance of a Fearful Dream.

Bleached Look and New Ink

3 Sep

As if, the poetry poetry that lies deep down my head, had to rise up and fall on my skin.
Nous sommes fait de la meme matiere que les reves… WS.

Night Sketches

22 Aug

Sometimes my pens tickle at night, and there is no stopping them. It is in fact mainly when my eyes get heavy that they get agitated. I always have a notebook at hand, full of collages and writings that emerge from such creative urges or inspiration sparks. I thought i’d share these two sketches that i just extracted out of my pens. The night is of cotton wool, like today was, just to remind us that the summer won’t last for ever. Just so that we enjoy the next few days like the last sip of the morning coffee – the one with all the sugar grains that did not melt inside, sweet and thick. Tomorrow i will be going to the sea house. My head is at peace, i can already hear the waves.

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