The gallimaufry approach to life

A mere glance at the slippery snake, Stone, she shouted. You are stone. And here I stand, a mere memory of all the memories, Foregone hopes, spliced lives left unfinished. Your ashes like a thousand fireflies catching starlight upon the wings of the dragon you simply could not slay. Dust to dust, you are. Ashes to ashes, you soar. Stone upon stone, is the weight I bear. Un coup d'œil furtif au serpent insaisissable, Pierre, cria-t-elle. Tu seras pierre. Et me voilà, un simple souvenir de tous les souvenirs, Des espoirs perdus, des vies épissées laissées en suspens. Tes cendres comme mille lucioles qui attrapent la lumière des étoiles sur les ailes du dragon que tu n as pas pu tuer. La poussière à la poussière, te voici. Les cendres aux cendres, tu voles. Pierre sur pierre, c'est le poids que je porte, le fardeau de ma vie.

des entailles dans cette peau sans consequence abordage des plaies poids de la plume enclume ecorchage à vif de cette fragilité frilleuse à la dérive, le decrochage des émotions je m assois et prends le temps de me rendre compte que finalement je ne suis plus l ennemi de moi meme

On ne parle pas assez aux inconnus.  L apprehension, le m en foutissme generale L antipathie c est le pathos de notre societe Tetes baissées, on fonce  dans une course planetaire faite d astres consumeristes. Mais, réellement, de quoi a t on peur ? De se faire prendre d assaut par ses propres sentiments ? De se sentir etrangler par le chordes de l humanité ? De se faire renvoyer a l expediteur sans adresse indiqué ? De se rendre compte qu on est tous humain,  tous de chair et os ? moi, je brave les normes  J m engage armé de syllabes et de sourires Maladroitement, ouvertement, manifesstement destabilissante. Et toi, inconnu, tu me vois, m entends, me connais, te reconnais dans ma recherche tatonnante d une once d humanite. Il aurait suffit d une echange, un regard Le bout de nos doigts s effleurent a peine Des picotements traversent nos bras jusqu à dans nos coeurs  Et nous poursuivrons ce chemin ensemble à parcourir...

Tell me, who can see, in the longest of nights, when the winds of yesterday have unearthed our amassed souls amongst the dreams and the dead, a suffering sun smothered by the silence of our bodies.  Tell me, who can dance in the debris of the living, reduced to mere bones and flesh, regurgitating the failures and the lines of the last poem in decomposition.  Tell me, who can take these hands, full, lacerated by the claws of time, curved by the invisible intertwining of two worlds.  Tell me, who can believe in the stars and the compasses used by man, drifting endlessly across the continents, facing mirages of truth. Tell me, who can be without words, who can talk without betrayal. Translated and rearranged by me Qui peut dans la plus longue des nuits, là où les vents des veilles déterrent nos amas d'âmes, parmi les songes et les morts, un soleil en peine qui s'éteint dans le silence du  corps, qui peut danser sur les débris des vivants, syncopes des os et...

Patience  Les genoux écorchés,  Douleur redoublant la frénésie Grimper, glisser, le paroi suintant  Je m'agrippe à la surface,  À me plier les ongles à l envers. Gouttelettes de sang nourrissent la terre de mon ame. J ai cherché en vain des signes, des mots.  Le néant. Tout m'echappe, vol en eclats,  me transperce, laissant trace sur trace. Traquer l absolu, à l infini et finir par quoi ? Pour quoi ? Pour qui? Peux tu sentir le sel de mes larmes ? Patience, j'apprends encore à apprehender mes peurs et mes infaillibles failles  Mes faiblesses et fortitudes. Encore un peu De patience.

Dear soulmate, I know you go through darkness, crippled, crumpled, crucified by the past; what could have been, what is not, what one expected you to be; by a future full of the unknown, eschatological fragments which tear you up, rip you apart, yet you cannot bear that burden alone. I'm afraid of the dark, but i promise to kiss the wounds in your heart, the infinite scars in your soul. I've told you before, I have strength inside me which enables me to go beyond the boundaries. If you take my hand, wholly trust me, I can confront that cliff with you, arms around your waist, head against your trembling back. Face the openness, my arms wrapped around you, while you absorb the beauty of feeling moved by something which is beyond your control. The spray from the waves crashing below send droplets of sea salt upon your skin, a reminder that you feel, that you are. Salt of the earth, salt of the soul. When we are both surrounded by that darkness, we will grip each other, cla...

A house, in the Cantal, there we stood, my brother and I, the two of us, inseparable. Upon visiting our uncle, a man of science and words, ophthalmologist by design, poet by desire, we would make our way to his study, a room where every surface, floors, walls, books, was permeated by the shadows of time. The latter had drawn us here to begin with. Their spines facing outwards, revealing the bare minimum, heightening our curiosity. What would lie within? What stories would unfold, be embedded in the depths of our minds?  Who would we be after we had encountered the words?  We take our seats, as always next to each other, our feet skimming the floor. We wait with bated breath, blinking in the shadows of knowledge. Unhurried, my uncle lays down his fountain pen, the one with which he pens his lines, then, focusing his gaze first upon my brother, then upon me, he bores through irises into my mind and soul. He knows. He rises. He runs his fingers down each spine one after the o...