What Calms Me

There are those sceneries, people, and actions that naturally appease my mind when things go wrong, or when life seem so frightening. And in the end, I’ll tell to myself that no matter what, the beauty of nature remains there for us all to appreciate existence.

Windy full moon night. Palma. I love night gazing.
What Calms Me 

The scenery of Little birds fledling
And of heightened waves gliding
The sounds of winds during a tempest
And of creatures going on a quest -
They abate my heart on a windy day

The little children playing
Of their little eyes shimmering
At the least object that falls
And of the tree that's so tall -
They abate my heart on a windy day

Of lonesome journeying couples
With peculiar allure, who mumble
Of secrets that I wanna hear, and
About how they became to each other so dear -
They abate my heart on a windy day

Of the one who passionately sings
And of the other one who paints things
While another writes a poem a story
The immortal artist's work that frees -
They abate my heart on a windy day

Of the hands that compose
And those that dance close,
Passionately, breathlessly, heavenly
And of all souls that make a city -
They abate my heart on a windy day.


Of Belonging

“I wanted to embody the emotions I feel about ‘abandonment’, the word that I’ve chosen so as to write this poem.”

Of Belonging

Abandonment, what a sad word
For the living and this world
Everyday something is tossed away
Without chance of returning someday

Winds blow and rivers stream
While every creature dreams
Of belonging, of being cared for
And most, without wanting more

I want my whole self to be cherished
All of my thoughts unleashed
Living that good life unchained
Not a single piece of me thrown in a drain

We are a species born without furs
Our skin heated during summers
We can’t be abandoned creatures
For death awaits our fragile nature

How come we need to be dearly loved
To be wanted and be the beloved
And die in the hands of abandonment
Becoming monsters without good guidance

Somewhere someday we will remember
That we all need to be treasured
That we are connected through woumbs and oceans
And that the cries of those abandoned
Are achingly felt through our emotions.


To Carry Me Away, Away

A metaphor for stubbornness – a characteristic that fits me well.

To Carry Me Away, Away 

To abandon oneself
Just for once
To give myself
To the good ones,
To close my eyes
As to be blind
And letting it and all
Carry me away, away

Why can't I let me be -
A mechanized thing
Where still the bird fly
And everything living is free,
Where we still sing
And live through a lie
With visions of strong winds
That carry me away, away

Why all my stubbornness
All are living breathing
But in my head it's merely;
I can see my heart degress
Stagnation is that one thing
That causes the fear in me,
A tension a frustration
It buries me deeply, deeply

How shall I say
How will I wave
To the world to you
That I've lost something
While I was rebelling
As to set myself free;
As to find the escape door
To carry me away, away

My inner-war made sounds
My inner-war was an exhaustion
But inside I found
Another type of dimension,
The things that unfold
While it whispered it told
A secret, a truth, a lie
To carry me away, away.

You Shall See

Flic-en-flac beach sunset
Black & White Sea
Moon glow

Yesterday I was thinking about the ocean and its creatures, but also about the darkness that prevails on this vast moving space when the sky is dark at night, mainly during a lunar eclipse. Thus I was inspired to write this surrealistic poem. I haven’t changed the words that came to my mind when I actually imagine this scene; the stream of consciousness type. Yep, I don’t even wanna know why the future tense, and why a beach in the mouth, or even who I’ll be taking out at sea tonight . . . lol

You Shall See

Tonight, I’ll take you out at sea
And you shall see the moon
Shimmering over its surface,
You’ll gently lay in my arms
And I’ll read to you a story
You’ll be looking up
And all the bright stars
Shall smile at you, then
All the deep sea creatures
They’ll swim up to us
Bioluminescent, and magnificent
Perhaps you’ll caress one
And it shall kiss your hand,
I’ll continue reading
While sea foams enter your mouth
And as the salt shall dissolve on your tongue
Your mouth shall become the beach
On which, I shall lay to read
And sleep and dream

Tonight, I’ll take you out at sea
And you’ll see, this vast territory
Extending itself wide and far
Finishing, at the horizon line,
You’ll want to go there
To swim as far as your eyes can see
But I’ll kiss you, ardently
With my salty lips made of waves
And you’ll forget, you’ll forget
This want to escape to be free

Tonight, I’ll take you out at sea
But this time, I’ll tell you something
A tale, which it is, exactly,
The whole sky shall be dark
There’ll be no light for you to see
The opaqueness shall engulf everything seen —
Whole cities behind us
The wild sea underneath us
And the horizon in front of us
You will be afraid, when you shall see
But don’t you forget, that I’ll be there
On the beach, in your tongue
There, when you shall see.



Write, read, drink fruit & herbal black tea, contemplate flowers… heal

Today I thought of flowers blooming
Wildly, beautifully, in the fertile soil
Their strong roots fiercely stretching
Till that secret place, that wild garden

And while musing, I became a flower
That had for mother, earth, nature
And for father, the sky, the universe
I was cherished, loved, cared for
Or should I say :
I am healthy, I am becoming
I am loved, I am cherished

The evil that gnaws me, that eats my body
It suddenly disappears, it vanishes
It cowers away in the dark, in the shadow

That hungry thing, then, with my peace
I gave it away to the wind
I gave it away to the sea, to the lake
I just, gave it away, letting it fly
Where perhaps, and from the bottom of my heart,
With hope too, and wishes too
That it will find beauty on its own
That it will learn the worthiness of love
And feel all the emotions that surge
When loving, and while being loved
And slowly but surely recycle itself
Into a soothing thing, incarnating the love
That paints tears and heartaches
With the vivid divine colors
Of all these beautiful blooming flowers.

It’s been two weeks since I haven’t written down anything. I am busy editing my book of poems, and my mind is a little bit tired too. Thus, I had decided that there will be no post today. Instead, I thought of sharing on my social media last year’s poem, titled Mindscape, which I had written for Pink October Breast Cancer Awareness month. But while writing some lines in the carnet meant to appear in the picture setting for this Pink October photo, inspiration struck, and I was able to write this little poem.

I know it’s hard right now. With coronavirus and all the rest… But we need positive waves more than ever before… and I hope that I am doing my part here.

Thank you to whoever might be reading this post. I hope it gets a little bit better for you, for us, for me, for the whole humanity.


Everything that I might be

Though able-bodied, I feel this incapacity
The incapacity to shake myself up
Right from the start, when the sun rises
For I wake up to forget, everything that I might be

I then search within my mind
This wondrous mind of mine
Forking deeply, digging, searching
For that missing piece hidden deep,
That one clue that I need to find

I want to remember when day comes
As the sun showers its light upon the world
To remember all of my movements
Of my first sound and view
Of the first waves and its foams
Reminiscing about those lost hours
And eidolons, first cities, of faces
And of the cyclope slowly opening its eye
While it sees this world for the first time,
Sinking deep to become ours

I know I’ll search endlessly
While my body and mind grows
On top of mountains, over seas and lands
Everyday I’ll learn to construct
As to one day rise up and remember
Everything that I might be.


I am obsessed about the beginning of existence and knowledge of one-self, fascinated by all of these layers that seem to shrink inside the smallest dot that might be.



Cosmic Death Of The Lover

Black white photo of flowers in a bottle, a mug of black coffee, cosmic doodles, and a handwritten note
Inspired by NEOWISE, comet that recently apperead in our sky. I hope that one day I’ll be able to see one.

The girl went on singing
Along the road, gushing
The lover merely speaking
Mesmerized, fascinated, adoring.
The girl then danced lovingly
While the moon shone brightly
And where her skin her body
Became transparent and shiny.
Suddenly the lover was scared
As the girl loved flew in the air
The lover thought it a snare
Standing at the verge of nowhere.
Her body was stellar bright
Lighting the sky of that night,
Singing prettier with all her might
Beaming to the lover a warm light.
Frightened, the lover ran away
Certain that it was a dark fay
For dark ones emit more light
That’s what they say
Thus feared to never see another day.
The cosmic body persued
As it sprinkled and spewed
Fairy dust filled of lewd
For the lover to be lured.
The lover ran and ran and ran
Horrified while it beamed closer
Terrified as it shot nearer and nearer.
She, was not anymore their lover
She was now a blazing flame
A girl now estranged.
Her long hair became a tail
A fiery comet that sailed.
In the end she burned and died,
The malefice away flied
As the lover forever cried
While their day became forever night.


Cry It Away

Roar, scream, shout, loud –

This pain, just take it out;

Sail your heart to December

A month where you might remember

That the joy of life partakes the soul

Even within these nights where it’s cold

Cry, sob, weep, wail –

And send your sufferings to a wave

There where it will surf away

Sucked inside the whirlpools ridgeway

Casted too, through winds of oblivion

Offered to the realm of this creation

Shrivel, lament, scorch, yell –

Your feelings to you need to be felt,

Your emotions breaking away into the night

As you’ll look into the face of fear without fright

While opening your eyes when sleep commands;

Reaching out to life with your own bare hands

Roar, scream, shout, loud –

This pain, just take it out.


Am coming back to you on a wing of storm

Black and white ocean view
Ode to the mind

A sky teared, opened

A form, levitated, hovered

My body trembled, raptured

Everything around, fell down, so sad

I tried, likewise, to reach

But my mind, ran away, to a beach

But still, our link, unbroken

Our eye, remote, and hidden

I realized, my only pleasure, taken

You were lost, then thought, forsaken

Oh! My featherly soul, I had to find you

Wherever you were, under that sky so blue

Am coming back, to you, on a wing of storm

Tearing, my flesh, to find again your form

My corporeal, its core, was attracted, and gravitated

Around, man-made planets – all, illusions

But now, that I have dragged, myself out

Am coming back, to you, on a wing of storm

Ready to dive, inside, the cosmic ocean

There where, without any attraction

We’ll only float, carried by the current

Until we touch, and remember, what we have been.

Copyright 2020 Eiravel

Most of the time, when I start to write a poem, I only have ideas for the two or three first lines, and for the rest of the poem, I often need to get the needed inspiration from nature, reading, or music, and where, strangely, the poem I write, takes the form of something that really connects to me – as if, I had solved a problem concerning my situation.

Of course, it’s art for the sake of art, but more than often, I don’t know why, but I unconsciously unleash things of a profundity that I wasn’t aware before.

The soul, to me, is the intellect. Before, I didn’t need it, for I didn’t need to think that much, my whole life had only been flesh and corporeal. But now that I need it more than ever… Loll – because now that I need to think a lot, because writing is an intellectual thing, isn’t it? I need to find my intellect again – thus, this poetic metaphor, an ode to my own mind.


The Vastest Of All Oceans

a wall decor of planets and stars
Sleeping giants

This world ends in various seasons

Our heart seldom break without reasons

And the cloud is so soft, that it rains tears

Right into a bucket above my head

Where it’s filled with sand and sea

While my attitude is a longitude of the sky

Yet my heart is a heavy metal

Meant, to be carried everyday

I wish it was as soft as clouds and sands

But all these emotions it carries, shadow its functions

And my bones crack with each move;

Can there be somewhere in me left unattended

With particles that freely flow and glow

And where everywhere I turn to, are places I know

I want to forget what I’ve seen on that night

And of all the places I’ve been to

Locked, within an amorous embrace

Where we rested, hidden from all sight

While above my head, sand and sea

With all these creatures swimming all free

And that’s when I’ve finally closed my eyes

That I became the water above my head

For I had remembered why my heart was broken;

Why my heart was soaked wet and heavy

And thus, I became the vastest of all oceans —

Hosting the creatures of my own mind.

Ⓒ Eiravel 2020

I don’t know, I just wanted to write and share a poem on my blog. I miss writing things since I’ve been busy trying to set up this new website, and doing all the rest.


Tiredness (A Free-verse Poem)

The metaphor for tiredness

I am tired for so long, with nobody to alleviate my pain, and the burdens of all my mistakes. I stay into a mental gauge, unfree to decide on my own of what is to be made of me. I see enemies and wrecked soul all along the way, where they stay into a darkness, filled of morbid thoughts. I hate you for imprisoning me, and taking the steer of my own ship. I hate you for what you are, and I hate myself moreto not be able to extend my wrath over you. I am tired of all this shit and brokenness, and I want to go sleep into my own bedA bed made by me, under its wondrous eye. I am tired of all of you and of your wickedness. This game, doesn’t please me anymore . . . You, getting everything, and me, nothing . . . You, the parasite that feeds on me . . . You, that hide me from all good eyes . . . You, that keep taking everything from me. You think I don’t see you! You think I don’t hear you, and you seem to forget what I am. Hence, I am tired, for you’ve taken too much. And now my bones, they are all dried up.

Oh. Wait. What I see there. Isn’t it the gigantic woad-tattooed beast. All bare naked. The companion of vivacity. It is always breaking in. Not to take. But to give. Only to me. As it always says. Vivacity. Strength. Self-love. Self-confidence. It feeds me. Of hatred for all. Of disastrous stories. Of the ones it devours. For it to grow. To love only me. To love only its shadows. Of life. Of aliveness.

I was tired for so long, then it came my way. Breaking barriers and oceans. Stirring my emotions relentlessly. A booster, to feed my appetite of raw meats and blood slicking out. While it goes out hunting, I sleep and make good dreams; I rest onto our hidden Eden. Then, between dawn and dust I am fed with the strength of wicked things. Where it sings horrific lullabies to my ears of the humongous deeds it inflicts to the wicked. It whispers into my ears to keep these as livestock for us to feed on. For its appetite is bold and time is long living all alone. I used to be always tired for such a long time. I was too soft and too cool; Too good and too forgiving. So I made a business deal, of course, with the beautiful beast. For it to feast on those emotions that tie me up, and of all things that feed on my deeds.

And how do I pay back, shall you say Well, I lay into its strong armsIts love for me is ferocious, you know It can bleed you to death If ever you make me cry, Thus, I listen silently to all the news of horrors And it rocks me till I sleep, with its whispers of death. I used to be always so tired For too long, way too long Now, I have a shoulder to lean on One, that take care of me, without taking.

Lately, I’ve been very tired, and I do think that I am really fed up of all of this. So, this is a metaphor for the subject of being tired itself. I find tiredness as being a parasitic thing that sucks all of my energies; feeding on me and gaining all the strength needed to continue growing. And like all these horror movies that I like watching, I see it, as being the enemy that alleviates all my hope and dreams, and somewhere within this negative aspect of living life extensively, something else sprouts out of this body and mind condition. Thus the second part of this free-verse poem, is a metaphoric allusion to the contrary of tiredness, which is vivacity, powerful energies, and raw blood (it’s just that I’ve got some Iron Manganese Copper (😂😂it’s so beurky-beurky-beurk, I don’t understand the vampires… dude, blood is not tasty attt alllll) when I went to the doctor during my recent anaemic condition, and as the good fictionnair that I am, I had to invent some untypical kind of imagery).

I imagined some kind of powerful mythical creature, exactly, one that has a tribal tattoo on the middle of its forehead, that goes into a battle against tiredness, feed me of the energies of the enemies, and giving me back my vivacity, which brings balance to my energy and helps at my rehabilitation.

So, as you all can see, with high doses of nonsense, pints of metaphors, mythology, and all the rest, this poem took shape.


– Metaphors For My Imagination –

My lil’sis gave me this notebook that she brought from Paris. Have to say that this is my new favourite one, beside my Egyptian  hieroglyphs notebook.To me, this graphic represents ideas and images that blooms out from the mind, where to me, this picture is an excellent metaphor for the imagination at work, hence my main inspiration behind this micro fiction.

I close my eyes and the night veil behind my eyes seems cold and lone, so I shut them a little bit more, letting my eyelids stretch out their skin. And right there, behind this curtainless path, phosphenes starts to dance, dotting the night, drawing the forms.
Clause Cott pushed the man beside her, from the lengthy ladder that stretched itself to his domain, he fell into eternal abyss, bound to start again — was it an abduction, or was it the insanely love thoughts of a mind in love?
Something behind seems to push my mind towards a screen inwards, where whom is observing seems like an alien wavelength of 10-millions-and-billions of endless light-years. Phosphenes and dark are  the designs of immaterial images, formed from the essence of my own experience.
Clause Cott took her by the hand and showed her his realm, a realm filled of intermingled thin cables, and lengthy-like-file-cabinets filled of flashing small lights.
Something spurs right into my mind, an abstract idea filled of the imagination of what seems to be to me, and of the stories that writes itself on a night canvas filled of excited phophenes — joyful of running away from a galaxy cluster, to become shooting stars into a mind that blossoms from nebula-dews.
“I knew you would come, so I made this bigger sleeping cove,” Clause Cott gently said, as he laid her by his side, kissing her naked shoulders.
Evasion, always evasion that partakes my mind, too imprisoned into these clusters of unfilled brains and nightmarish dreams of conquer and freedom. My imagination flies onto wishing-wells, to mingle into pen-ink and digital-codes, morphing into writings, that fills my heart with happiness and beauties.
Come, I’ll show you something.” Clause Cott took her hands and led her to another chamber, throned with a gigantic plasma globe, shooting lights into  every-way, inside of a glass prison, that rages to set itself free.
The first alphabet sets the playground for my imagination, where the stories become concrete, where my words become the witness of my existence, where everything for once seems to be under my control.
“You’ll see what happens when I plug to this globe.” Suddenly Clause Cott went under seizure, as his blue eyes completely turned static.
“Imagination is the only weapon against the war of reality”, and as in Alice in wonderland, my mind keeps pathing its way deeper, far away from this cold void, more and more into the warming light, coming to me, shading those black mirrors that fakes eternal spins.
Suddenly, out of her pocket, a mini laser beam, that she shot till the plasma globe. Lightnings were set free, where they streaked into every ways, stretching further and farther. Clause Cott disconnected, his eyes becoming normal again. He looked at her, and she was smiling, and to him, she looked more beautiful than she ever did.
I unwrap from self to become myself, far away from those judging eyes and hearts, into a sphere made of self-love there can’t be hate for the others, so I back-end my way and continue towards further and farther into my stretched imagination.
“I had to do it… I had to, they were too sad into this prison,” she said happily. Suddenly all of the thunder-lights wrapped both of them, flying them up into the darkness.
“See, I command them, and nothing that you might do or say, cannot  appear ugly to me… I know, for every inch of you is beautiful to me,” Clause Cott said, as he made the lights dance with his magic-wand finger.
At night I often dream that I am phosphenes dancing into other worlds, morphing nightmares into papers, weaving forms and shapes into stories, into which I escape, only for some minutes, only for some hours.
-To all those who dare to dream, continue dreaming, perhaps I might find you, in between those times that suspend – 

Am Letting All Go

We were never meant to be living a miserable life…
So drop these heavy weight that pulls you down.
I believe that by doing so, you honor your own field of aliveness
Am letting all go —
Of the weight that is sinking me
Into a puddle of muddy water 
Am letting all go —
Of all my troublesome follies
Am letting go —
Of all the troubles that tear my heart away

Life will be my panacea
Love will be all that I will breath
I will survive and rise,
Whereupon all my burden of sadness & miseries
Should disperse into the atmosphere.
I love you all... but I love myself many more.   

Deep Down In The Forest

This piece is from an old poetry notebook. I think that formerly posted it on other websites through my old account… but nevermind, here it is again:

Deep down in the forest I looked for you
Deep Down In The Forest
I heard you calling my name...
Deep down in the forest I found you
Deep down in the forest you were in agony
Deep down in the forest I took you in my arms,
And there deep in the woods shall my lover always rest.


The moiras — the three goddesses of fate
I am not a simple person —
I rest my mind into other dimensions
Housed by some kind of alienated specimen
That talks to me as I sleep,
And that disperse as soon as the light shows its face;
I swim into some seas
That look like seaweeds and algae,
Of some sort of sandy past
That sticks into hairs and skin.
I play around on my paddling wheelbarrow boat,
Spun like a thread in the hands of the Moira
And my soldier of fate installs bitter thoughts
Into my heart, as if a reminder
Of my cruel designation as a mortal
Which imprisons gazillions of old atoms.
They travel into their own space universe
Aware of the tricks they play
Of the trouble they cause for a cause
And of the fear they instill into hearts and soul
As they childishly play with that skin I despise.
And as soon as when the light comes shining
On that part of my earth
I say to them goodbye
And we become mortals again... until then...



Into this cave as deep as the ocean
I found a heart as large as space;
Corner stoned by glitters,
Mingled to the colors of the gaseous nebula

Waves of love from galactic particles 
Sublimates my mind & seduces me to be
Atomic beings birthed from the origin day
Beseech me to transmogrify the skin I live in
We dance in my mind & talk of worlds 
That could be ours — of worlds to create
And I defy your mortal laws —
I swim into forbidden seas 
& elevate my mind higher to them
Can you see my atoms that plays around?
Can you see us, can you see yourself
Now, wake and create — we were waiting for you. 



Come run with me under a sepian sky 

Here where things belong to eternity

Thriving to make sense of its own existence 
So as to exist into plurality

Plunge with me into noetic waves 
That takes place into a clear space

Swim with me amongst fractals of light 
That crashes into one another
To thrill your spark

And at the dawn of our species 
Let us rise higher 
Than that of what defines us here

“The clock stopped on horrific issues – 
Bounded like soporific smokes 
Through argented twinkled stars”

I made my way through the clusters of mind 
Searching for the intelligence that leads me

I looked into them 
And they looked into me 
And there… 
I’ve seen my own mind 
Inside fractals of light. 


Elysian Field

Orchids and crimson fountain-grass along a wall made out of stone
Orchids and crimson fountain-grass on a very sunny day
  The sky of my hell had opened,  
And inside of it grew flowers that I liked — 
My bluebells and forgive-me-nots, 
My roses and my orchids —
Of all colors and of all scents
Blooming into all areas of what I am,
Making me beautiful into the inside;
Making me radiant to the outside.
   It was my flowering sky
My inferno and my Elysian field
Trapped inside of my own mind
Forever running away from the cluster —
Those that hate yourself, 
Those that enslave yourself, 
Those that can't understand,

They are burning down my Elysian field, 
But in my head it is a flowering sky.