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If I would like to make the best compliment to the singer, it would be: he has his own style.
You hear him singing, and you do not even to know the song - it's Daniel Lavoie.

Bruno Pelletier

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Color poems

22

VERT

Vert vie vert vit vers....
Le sang de la terre....
Le mouvement perpétuel....
De la lumière....
Qui s`accouple à la matière....
Vert vie ver de terre....
Une danse lente ....
De macro-molécules....
Un two-step endiablé....
De fourmis sans dieux....
Vert ma sœur blonde....
Ouverte et joyeuse....
Broute la steppe....
Broute la lande....
Jusqu`au bout du soleil....
Soleil vert et brutal....
Amour encore amour....
Dans le gazon des draps....
Éjaculation coléoptère....
Entre les brins d`herbe verts

fbb

RED

The red sings...
The head is light, the blood is red...

The redness of all the worns...
The red peony...

Which dances and speaks too much...
Which says nobody knows what...

Confident that he is listened...
And he is lokked at...

On his beautiful legs...
In a beautiful legs...

Arrogant and proud...
In his cupid...

Red tango with...
With its smell of sex...

Brave, in spite of his weakness
He goes to the end...

Is not afraid to die...
To save the time, which passes...

Clings like the velcro...
Full of the gifts on his scin...

33

BLUE

The blue like love...
Uncompromising and perfumed

Boundless horizon...
Kisses amplify from the blue...

Hot as the red...
But the depth of the sea, but...

The blue from God...
If god could be...

When there is nothing more...
When the black is completely suppressed...

She hides in the shadows...
The blue of the resistance...

The blue of the confidence...
The blue of the sky, which rejects...

All the interventions, all the storms...
The blue of the first scream...

And of the last too...
When everything is complete...

The joyful blue of the refusal...
And an inspired leap into the void...

77

ORANGE

The orange - the body...
In its depth...

The flesh of the juice, its bite...
The orange - the neck of the vessel...

The orange - the blood of the soul...
When it sleeps...

The soul of the sun, the soul of the child...
The childhood, forgotten in rooms...

The antiquity, where shadows are not gray...
But the orange is also noisy...

The game of your toes...
The delicate and sweet color...

The love here is only a bed...
Light and powdered...

Which the wind can raise...
And carry very far...

In the hands of someone else...
The love, drunk in one gulp...

And it didn`t leave the aftertaste...
Love for those, who are without faith...

55

BLACK

Obviously, the black...
The end of all hopes...

Before you appeared in this world...
And then, when you will no longer be here...

The depth bottom...
Where grotesque creatures swims...

The black - the bitterness after the battle...
The groans of the victims...

The black is the time, during which the bad news overcomes the distance between your mouth and ear...

Loud obscene laughter...
The selfishness in the suit of your boss...

And the feeling, when...
The day, when you understand...

That God doesn`t exist...
That you`ll have to go into eternity...

Lonely...

Black???

66

GRAY

The gray...
As a false promise...

Where seas are lost...
In the mass of the mountains...

And when it is only an hour...
To save the world...

The gray core of the purchase...
The need to own is gray...

...like the cat eating the mouse...
The music of the lift...

This is the love also...
When it isn`t anymore...

The familiarity...
Of the craven humility...

The sidewalk cafe...
And its unappetiting food...

The gray is sometimes so close...
To the color of money...

What is captured in the habits...
Of the poloticians and egoists...

11

YELLOW

The yellow as the white...
Is an unreal color...

The side of the soul, where the speech...
Is the start of the weekend, yes...

But it is the dishonest color...
And shameful...

Yes, it is dared to believe the yellow...
When it smiles with its full mouth...

And it offers you the small prank...
In a questionable place...

The yellow pervert...
He wishes you all the bad...

His disguise is too beautiful...
He makes you laugh...

Without any attention...
The hypocritical bastard getting underfoot...

The equilibrist of the absurd...
He throws you to read between the lines...