What do you think happens when the soul of a clown and the soul of a poet live together in one human being? Do they live in harmony? Well, while they don’t necessarily fight each other, they wage their own internal wars in opposite corners.

Having that duality within one man, it is a double whammy, folks. Most people wear some sort of mask on a daily basis. That is why when someone asks us “how are you?”, we automatically come back with something like “Fine, and you?”. We don’t really want to share how we feel and we don’t want to know how the other person is doing. That’s OK, though, the person who asked us the question in the first place doesn’t really want to know either.

Well, imagine two masks on one man: words dripping with alcohol and tears buried in laughter. Here it is: the beast that is me.

In this blog, I will share thoughts on my life, on the movies I love, on the music I appreciate and on many other things. Some of it will be in English and some in French, all depending on how the thoughts organize themselves in my head at that specific moment. There will be a little bit of everything. My sense of humour might shock some, so let all of you be forewarned. This is my space and it will fit my reality. If you get offended easily, you might want to look elsewhere.

Having said all of this now, all that is left to do is to officially welcome you to the blog of the clowning poet. Hope you enjoy your visits into my universe.

dimanche 6 mai 2012

Mon plan

Depuis que je suis allé chez la diététicienne, le 24 avril dernier, la question qu’on me pose est bien souvent : C’est quoi ton plan? C’est plus que clair, j’ai définitivement besoin d’un plan. Je suis encore hors-contrôle, et mon poids est revenu à 399 lbs. Je veux changer cette situation, mais comment? Ma diététicienne m’a demandé quel était mon plan. Ma femme m’a posé la même question. Jusqu’à maintenant, ma réponse est toujours demeurée vague.
Pourquoi? Probablement parce que je ne voulais pas faire face à la réalité.  MA réalité. J’avais peur d’admettre aux autres et à moi-même à quel point je me suis laissé aller dans ma haine envers ma personne. Aujourd’hui, je comprends que je dois l’admettre et regarder la réalité en face : Je suis en train de me tuer à petit feu. Plus question d’utiliser des excuses quelconques : le stress, la fatigue, mon passé, l’ange envolé…Plus question de me laisser aller dans cette mort lente et inévitable qui m’attend avant la quarantaine si je ne change pas d’avenue tout de suite. J’approche du point de non-retour et je dois rebrousser chemin.
Je dois le faire pour moi…pour vivre. Pendant trop longtemps, je m’en suis foutu. J’avais peur de souffrir, donc je m’engourdissais de bouffe et d’alcool. Je craignais la douleur, mais je ne craignais pas la mort. Je la souhaitais même souvent. Je me disais que les gens apprendraient à vivre sans moi et que je ne serais pas une bien grosse perte. Je n’avais rien à offrir, selon moi.  Donc, à quoi bon me battre? Le sort en était jeté. Mais…je veux vivre. J’ai des choses à vivre et à voir auprès de ceux que j’aime. Pour ce faire, je dois changer de chemin…et je dois le faire pour moi. Pas pour plaire aux autres ou pour impressionner qui que ce soit. Je dois le faire pour ma survie et pour en arriver à m’aimer un peu plus un jour. Et je sais que, en bout de ligne, ceux que j’aime et qui m’aiment seront à mes côtés.
Alors, quel est mon plan? Il compte de nombreuses parties :
Contrôler la bouffe : Il faut manger pour vivre et non vivre pour manger. J’arrive à consommer des quantités astronomiques de nourriture certains jours. Parfois, même si j’ai amené un lunch au bureau, je vais me chercher des extras. Pour engourdir le stress et la fatigue des longues journées, pour me consoler…Ces excuses ne tiennent plus, et cela doit cesser. Je dois aussi lâcher les cochonneries. Je me permettrai une traite ou deux par semaine, mais des choses bien petites. Et je prévois tenir un journal de ce que je mange chaque jour. Cela me permettra de me rendre des comptes à moi-même.
Dompter l’alcool : Quand je bois, je bois trop. Il y a plein de moments dans ma vie où je ne prends pas une goutte. Quand je suis en vacances seul avec ma douce, je fais attention car sais qu’elle n’aime pas. Je ne consomme jamais dans ces moments-là. Jamais la semaine, quand je travaille. Le problème est quand je suis seul à la maison ou quand ma femme dort le soir. J’ai tendance à me laisser aller, et c’est dans ces moments que je perds le contrôle. Je suis seul, et je laisse l’alcool prendre le contrôle. Je dois donc cesser de boire seul à la maison. Quand ce sera la fête entre amis ou en famille, je me permettrai quelques verres. Cela peut être très plaisant. En faisant la conversation avec les autres, on contrôle mieux ses ardeurs. Quand je serai seul, je me trouverai d’autres distractions. Un bon film, que je suivrai mieux sobre de toute façon. Je vais tenter de trouver des traites plus santé. Si vous avez des suggestions, n’hésitez pas.  Je dois contrôler l’alcool et non la laisser me contrôler. L’engourdissement n’en vaut pas le prix que ma santé doit payer.
Me donner de meilleures nuits de sommeil :  Depuis un certain temps, je me couche de plus en plus tard, même la semaine. La fin de semaine, c’est franchement dramatique. La semaine, c’est pire que jamais. Pour être en meilleure forme, je dois me donner de meilleures nuits de sommeil. Disons, 12h00 ou 12h30 la semaine et maximum 2h00 ou 2h30 la fin de semaine. Ce serait déjà une belle amélioration.
Alors, voilà mon plan pour le moment. Je veux y arriver. Je dois y arriver. Merci de me lire, je tenterai de mettre à jour plus souvent.

lundi 9 mai 2011

My Top 5 Favourite Songs of All-Time (English)

Over the last few days, I have been listening to a lot of music and I figured it would be an interesting exercise for me to try to determine my Top 5 Favourite Songs of All-Time. Whenever that kind of survey is published in music magazines, I always take it with a grain of salt because the criteria used to determine the lists can vary enormously depending on so many factors. After all, musical tastes are so subjective.

As for this particular list, it is simply an indication of my tastes. Since this is my blog, that would make sense. As for the specific criteria used to determine my choices, I was looking for titles that have endured the test of time and that still stir up feelings inside me. So, here it is and, if you want to comment, don’t hesitate.

1- Hallelujah – Leonard Cohen: Those lyrics are simply perfect. The imagery, the infinite sadness, the loss of love and the haunting atmosphere of the whole thing, especially in Jeff Buckley’s rendition, gives me the chills every time and often brings a tear or two to my eyes.

2- Wish You Were Here – Pink Floyd: From the intro, with the great guitar playing, to the end, this song is simply amazing. I cannot listen to that it without singing out loud. They don’t make them like this anymore.

3- Working Class Hero – John Lennon: This song has been overshadowed in Lennon’s catalogue by the wonderful Imagine; yet, to me, this one has lot more substance to it. Maybe it is because I see a lot of myself in those lyrics, but it really strikes a chord with me.

4- Father and Son – Cat Stevens: The relationship between a father and his son has been the subject for many a work of art. This Cat Stevens song deals with this in such a beautiful way. This is a timeless song that will never get old.

5- Bohemian Rhapsody – Queen: This song is a work of art, pure and simple. So many layers, so much creativity, it defies all genre classification.

So, what are your thoughts folks? Agree, disagree? What would be your choices?

lundi 25 avril 2011

Death wish not granted

I’m back, and let’s hope I can update this thing on a more regular basis in the weeks and months to come. I also make the wish that I can start this 34th year of my life on a better footing, both mentally and physically. It will come as a surprise to no one that changes are necessary.

Yes, it was my birthday today. I am now 34 years old. For me, that is the last of two very weird but nonetheless important milestones in my life. To most people, the round numbers are the milestones. The big 3-0, the big 4-0, the big 5-0, and so on and so forth, are the major ones. Alas, I am not like most folks. For me, it was 27 and 33, the ages at which so many of my idols died. Jim Morrison, Janis Joplin and Jimi Hendrix all kicked the proverbial bucket at the age of 27. As for the age of 33, it is related to the demise of John Belushi, Chris Farley and Bon Scott. So, for clowns and for poets, these are significant milestones. For a PoeticClown, even more so.








Years ago, I was talking to a friend of mine and discussing my way of looking at the future. That person took me by surprise when she asked me if I had a death wish. I had never looked at it that way and I didn’t quite know what to answer to that. Recently, as I was about to outlive all of these heroes of mine, I started to think about that question again. Maybe I did have a death wish. I never really made any serious attempt to end my own existence. That being said, I sure did push it to the max with excesses of food and booze. Over the years, I have stretched out the limits of what one body can take. I sure can feel the effects of that today. Thankfully, I have never done drugs. I never did, not because I am against it but because I know I would probably enjoy that too. So, I refrained from adding that problem to the list. I know me and my addictive personality. I have pushed the envelope so to speak, but I managed to survive. Just like I did when I was born, I beat the odds.

As I look to the future now, having outlived all these all-time greats, I am thinking that other models could be added to my list. People who lived a full life, to the beat of their own drums, and managed to make it quite far. I am thinking of comedian George Carlin, who made it to his 70’s despite a long life of pushing it. There is also Jack Nicholson, my all-time favourite actor. He just turned 74and he’s still going. I’ll never attain the pinnacle of success they have reached, but maybe there are more good things on my path that I can accomplish before I check out. Alongside the love of my life, I could see the world. I could publish my book. I could witness so many things and be an important part of some of it.

As for now, I am not quite sure what the beat of my own drum will be. As I look for this new path, I’ll try to keep all of you posted. That death wish of mine was not granted, and, for better or for worse (depending on your opinion of me), let’s hope I can make the best of it.




lundi 15 novembre 2010

A thousand kisses deep

This weekend, I watched a Leonard Cohen concert on DVD. I didn't know that much about the artist he his before I started and I was pleasantly surprised. He is a great poet. Here is one poem he read and that really struck a chord with me.

A Thousand Kisses Deep

You came to me this morning
And you handled me like meat.
You´d have to live alone to know
How good that feels, how sweet.
My mirror twin, my next of kin,
I´d know you in my sleep.
And who but you would take me in
A thousand kisses deep?

I loved you when you opened
Like a lily to the heat.
I´m just another snowman
Standing in the rain and sleet,
Who loved you with his frozen love
His second-hand physique -
With all he is, and all he was
A thousand kisses deep.

All soaked in sex,
and pressed againstThe limits of the sea:
I saw there were no oceans left
For scavengers like me.
We made it to the forward deck
I blessed our remnant fleet -
And then consented to be wrecked
A thousand kisses deep.

I know you had to lie to me,
I know you had to cheat.
But the Means no longer guarantee
The Virtue in Deceit.
That truth is bent, that beauty spent,
That style is obsolete -
Ever since the Holy Spirit went
A thousand kisses deep.

(So what about this Inner Light
That´s boundless and unique?
I´m slouching through another night
A thousand kisses deep.)

I´m turning tricks; I´m getting fixed,
I´m back on Boogie Street.
I tried to quit the business -
Hey, I´m lazy and I´m weak.
But sometimes when the night is slow,
The wretched and the meek,
We gather up our hearts and go
A thousand kisses deep.

(And fragrant is the thought of you,
The file on you complete -
Except what we forgot to do
A thousand kisses deep.)

The ponies run, the girls are young,
The odds are there to beat.
You win a while, and then it´s done -
Your little winning streak.
And summoned now to deal
With your invincible defeat,
You live your life as if it´s real
A thousand kisses deep.

(I jammed with Diz and Dante -
I did not have their sweep -
But once or twice, they let me play
A thousand kisses deep.)

And I´m still working with the wine,
Still dancing cheek to cheek.
The band is playing "Auld Lang Syne" -
The heart will not retreat.
And maybe I had miles to drive,
And promises to keep -
You ditch it all to stay alive
A thousand kisses deep.

And now you are the Angel Death
And now the Paraclete;
And now you are the Savior's Breath
And now the Belsen heap.
No turning from the threat of love,
No transcendental leap -
As witnessed here in time and blood
A thousand kisses deep.

lundi 1 novembre 2010

Salut son père



Salut tout le monde,

Je sais que je ne vous écris pas assez souvent. Pleins d'émotions se brassent au fond de moi et je trouverai peut-être le moyen un jour de vous raconter tout ça.

Pour le moment, allons-y pour du plus léger.

Tout récemment, j'ai décidé de changer de look. Après plusieurs années à afficher une barbiche que je trimmais mais gardait toujours, j'ai opté pour un visage sans poil. Quel choc! Il y a longtemps que je ne m'étais pas vu le visage de cette façon. C'est fou ce qu'un peu de poil peut changer l'allure d'une personne. Après le fait, j'ai vu mon père dans mon miroir...La ressemblance est encore plus frappante. Faudra s'en parler plus tard de ça.
Voici des photos avant et après


mercredi 6 octobre 2010

Un peu de poésie

Malgré le fait que mon blog se nomme PoeticClown, je n'ai pas publié beaucoup de poésie ici. Remédions à ça immédiatement. Voici un texte que j'ai écrit très rapidement hier soir. L'inspiration se passe ainsi pour moi. Les mots arrivent rapidement dans ma tête et déboulent ensuite sur papier.

Au féminin (en chaleur)

La vie
La folie
La détresse
La tendresse
La délivrance
La déchéance

L'ivresse
est une femme en chaleur
Qui vous montre ses fesses
et vous verse ses douceurs.

L'ébriété
est une tentatrice chaude
Dont la chatte griffée
ne jamais s'échaude

La mort
est une sorcière en veille
Qui nous attend aux abords
D'une nuit sans réveil

La déchéance
La délivrance
La tendresse
La détresse
La folie
La ...

jeudi 23 septembre 2010

Free-floating hostility 2

Once again, it is time for me to share some major psychotic hatreds, George Carlin style. No rhyme or reason, just a list of items that irritate me, annoy me or piss me off. Here we go:

Spittoons, please: Am I the only one who don’t understand these guys who feel the urge to spit on the ground while walking around town? Is this supposed to be a sign of virility or something? I don’t get it. Hey guys, keep your loogies for yourselves or for the privacy of your own home. And, watch for the gushes of wind...

You ain’t fat: What is it with beautiful girls who consider themselves fat when they are very far from it? I am not talking of eating disorders here. They clearly eat, but they complain constantly about the need to exercise more and eat less to lose an ass they don’t have in the first place. "Look, dear, you should get that thing slapped a few times for calling it fat when it ain’t. You are beautiful, quite the belly-aching".

Pardon my eyes: I have a beef with these women who dress provocatively and then complain that you don’t look them in the eyes. Look, honey, if you flaunt it, I will look. I am not a psycho and I would not touch without permission. But, god damn it, I will look. If I were to walk around town with my balls hanging out, not too many of you would look at my bald spot.

Pick one: I truly hate road construction. I understand it is necessary, but why does the city of Fredericton feel the need to fix every street at the same time, making the ride back home at night a pain in my fat ass. Hey, pick a street, stick to it, and - oh I don’t know - finish it before moving on to another one!