A rose

A rose among the roses
A star among the stars
Shiny red velvet gem
And ointment to my scars

Our fall became a winter
And hearts heavy like gold
Your skin as thick as bark
My eyes cheeky and cold

Sour drops to a thirsty soul
And sharp and shining blade
Caught in the light of doom
A sight that will not fade

You, rose among the roses
The hand I will not hold
You, dream among my dreams
Those dreams you won’t unfold.

Mornings ahead

A leather bound
Book in his hand
He sits and turns
The same pages again

Tales of young wolves
And sweet blooded preys
And sun bathed leaves
Spaces to roam away

Tales of a wizard
Places left behind
People smiling
At a slight of hand

Tales of joy
And a brilliant tree
Lovely kisses
And prayers on a knee

Tales from the past
And a well known land
Cherished memories
For the mornings ahead.

Merry Christmas, my friends.

When Poets Dreamed of Angels (SSFD #3)

Back in the late 70s, his first band Japan had too quickly been classified as part of the New Romantics wave, maybe because of its Duran-like dress code. So wrong, there was so much more behind their electronic drums.

When the band dissolved in 1983, David Sylvian started his solo career. I fell deeply in love with his profound voice in 1987, when his Secrets of the beehive shattered all my ideas and schemes about music. His songs were a mix of world, ambient and jazz music, his lyrics constantly drenched into a sort of pagan spirituality. Million miles away from the needs of the business, there was some pure beauty in his work, something that unleashed it from the constraints of time and made it the perfect record for my perfect desert island. It still is, almost thirty years after…

Put your earphones on and enjoy, my friends.

“She rises early from bed, runs to the mirror
The bruises inflicted in moments of fury
He kneels beside her once more, whispers a promise
“Next time, I’ll break every bone in your body”

And the well-wishers let the devil in
If the river ran dry, they’d deny it happening

As the card players deal their hands
From the bottom of the deck
Row upon row of feudal houses blown away
Medicine for the popular complaint

When the poets dreamed of angels, what did they see?
History lined up in a flash at their backs
When the poets dreamed of angels, what did they see?
The bishops and knights well placed to attack”

Nothingman (SSFD #2)

This is one of the bands I’ve grown up with. At first, they just sounded like one of the fresh rock bands surfing (good metaphor Mr Vedder, isn’t it?) on that restless Seattle wave called grunge. What a healthy way to end the 80s, after so many glittering dance floor tunes…

That wave broke onto the shore before the new century, bringing along its lot of splitting bands and the bodies of those for whom the star system had been a too heavy burden.

Pearl Jam went on. They changed by not changing at all. And kept in touch from time to time, with their unchanged and natural affection, like only good friends can do. Enjoy.

“Once divided, nothing left to subtract
some words when spoken can’t be taken back
walks on his own with thoughts he can’t help thinking
future’s above but in the past he’s slow and sinking
caught a bolt ‘a lightnin’, cursed the day he let it go…

nothingman, nothingman,
isn’t it something? nothingman…

she once believed in every story he had to tell
one day she stiffened, took the other side
empty stares from each corner of a shared prison cell
one just escapes, one’s left inside the well
and he who forgets will be destined to remember…

oh, she don’t want him
oh, she won’t feed him
after he’s flown away
into the sun, into the sun, burn, burn…”

Trains (SSFD* #1)

Be it as the leader of Porcupine Tree, half of the Blackfield duo or in his solo work, Mr. Steven Wilson surely is a gifted guy when it comes to giving birth to melancholy pervaded songs.

On a more personal note, I often feel my inner voice dissolving into his words and music. Which, I admit, doesn’t always do me good. But don’t we all pleasantly indulge in sad feelings sometimes?

“Train set and match spied under the blind
Shiny and contoured the railway winds
And I’ve heard the sound from my cousin’s bed
The hiss of the train at the railway head

Always the summers are slipping away

A 60 ton angel falls to the earth
A pile of old metal, a radiant blur
Scars in the country, the summer and her

Always the summers are slipping away
Find me a way for making it stay

When I hear the engine pass
I’m kissing you wide
The hissing subsides, I’m in luck

When the evening reaches here
You’re tying me up
I’m dying of love, It’s OK”

(*SSFD: Sad Songs For Dummies)


The performer

Words and melodies
Never give in
And leave his mind
To sublimate
Become his clouds
Or sunny skies

They just watch out
For an escape
He knows, he smiles
So many feelings
So many tales
He cannot write

But he’s a voice
And he vibrates
There’s no disguise
He borrows songs
He plays a role
But never lies.


I know that we all go through hard moments in our lives and I know how hard it can be to go over a heartbreak. And maybe I’m not the appropriate person to give lessons about it, but… I think that Adele needs help!

In 2011 she used to sing about a guy which broke her heart and how he’d found someone else and got married (see Someone like you lyrics). And now, four years later, she’s calling him again (see Hello lyrics) asking to meet him, her words soaked with tears.

Now either she’s talking about someone else (in which case she’s hopeless at dealing with liaisons) or she’s a dangerous stalker (poor guy, leave him alone!). Or, even worse, she’s only trying to stick to her eternal broken-hearted brand image.

Hey girl, listen to me, get out of this quicksand. Leave all this ridiculous melancholic sentimental sh*t to us fogeys. Go out with friends, have a few vodkas, meet other guys and enjoy. Please, Adele, it’s time to move on…