Is this Love there is ?

Recent, English Poetry. ❤️🦄 T.

African Art... T. 2018 ❤️

Timothée 2019

Timothée 2019

Renart, Magician... How will Renart play the luth, Of how will he culbutate, For Noble His King virevolt « Per Bona Fide Per State » He found a Queen to this Kingdom An Oriental princess whom Rome, Has admired and appreciates ! « Renart wants to bind Law, all Means ! Establishes with Hermeline And Our Kings’ Due Approbation... His three sons, the vine, the Mansion » « And behearded the Royal Sceal ! » As a magician he appealed All hearts to his own, well being !

Villon Did you read Villon ? Amazing ! The ballad for hanged men : congrats ! He was condemned ! And there he sat ! He was graced, the poet from France. I never stole a quid nor two, But have to applause with good sense, He was acclaimed since these times too ! I guess ! And deem... France, versifying ? A bandit from the Middle Ages ! Wrote me a poem ! Coverage : Thousand years ago ! A distance Esteemed, the Stars’ Twilight would bring ! **** To which France leave I my poems ? In the streets, full of Sentinels, Paris sleeps at day, nights recel The rehearsal of our old dreams... At war the French people prays, spells, And fights... far as I know repels Our ennemies, they die, it seems. France is a blessed land I’m serene ! T. 2018, Paris.

Kalina Shivanayama Kali o Thy love of Shiva, Reign onto me, with your Justice In my few instants : Glory, Bliss ! For You o Thy Kali, Baba ! To Kali my life would provide If I pray Her then, night and day. « Kali, Kundalini Yoga, Mantra, Tantra... - Kali yogi ! » Serve ! Whispers the echo : serve Her ! You might be in Her Praises, flare ! I dear, and I dear my prayers... The noble Mysteries I glane Praying Kali, drive on a lane, Of flowers - the hearts of Her Priests. Kali ! Asceticism ! Feist !

The angry animals (Parody of a hunt). All this morning, would sing sunlight In my eyes wide open, bright, Sang, sang the trees and Sea water. I’d be drinking coffee, bitter... I was in the forest last night And got caught up then, at all sight - By deers, fawns, even two wild boars, When gently poured there a soft rain... With many heels, voices, they roared : « Pay or trespass » - I grinned : « Ain’t Ore ! » « Sorry, we were only playing On words ! » And they attacked me ! - Vain ! An unequal combat won’t last : I killed them all, then had supper, Off my hunt : deer, berries, - Breakfast : Wild pork this morning. Hey, losers ! You attack at ten ? In my tin ! T. 2018, Paris.

- The markets know an in-between, In NYC, call Howard Dean ! Call Obama, Trump and Prince Charles ! What happened ? On his phone Blake gnarls, To team members : CREDIT FUNDING. - But no one answer to our calls, - Says Joshua : they all assist The burial of Agent Paul, Though Blake, we think he still exists... - Are you kidding me ? Where is he ? He must not live ! As we agreed ! Find him ! I will call, in Paris, « Delanoë » - No Blake ! - Succeed ! - Joshua succeed or be redeemed ! - Do not call him Blake ! He’s in jail ! { A SECURITY BELL RINGS HIGH } - Alert ! Three armed men on B2 ! - Tyson ! Rockets traps ! I am through, To Kirghizistan ! But what a fail ! I hate you ! - We all know you, Blake ! - You are on my mire Josh... ... - But you’re a fake ? Blake ? « Soch’ Soch’ Beng’ Boum. » - Glocks.