Thursday, November 29, 2012

Just a moment

Come not so close, so I can see you.
The room to be, in the air entre
The light to sense the darkness too,
While balance clears the lenses clean.

Be not so far from Where You Are,
Let's sit under the Silver Star,
To think we started a while ago,
To write a story That burnt to know.

Doubt and faith; fear and love; can not cook.
The races Knew our stomach and head.
Life exiled from our tired look,
While death is still to carry the dead.

Yet it's just the Saami of us,
Who Talked of yes on the moving bus,
Are looking now to change the car;
Windows closed with doors ajar.

Speak of song, talk of dance
far from life, and so remote
Stay for good give it a chance
not to close in Such instant.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Tout le monde

C'est une machine
qui te provoque, t'influence
C'est un pouvoir méchant
qui te commande, et brise ta cadence.

C'est un pistolet qui te fait mal
Un cadavre qui ne ni pense, ni aime
Tu le suis en amont ou en aval
Même si tu te gènes toi-même.

La machine je te tue ici
Le pouvoir, je te nie
Je retire avec soin les belles âmes
Les hommes et les femmes
Le pistolet je te fais sortir
Le cadavre, je te sépare encore
pour te faire ré-unir.


English translation

Everybody

It’s a machine
It provokes, influences you
It’s a cunning power
Which entices you, makes you cower.

It’s a gun that hurts you
A carcass which neither thinks nor loves
You follow it nonetheless
Even if it overwhelms and benumbs.

A robot I kill you here
Your power I deny everywhere
I take out the beautiful souls with care
I open fire on you, you brute
Cadaver, I separate you
From me, and totally uproot.


I first wrote the poem in French in 2012. Translated it into English on 1st of January 2017 following some good response in various other ezines.

Dialogue


If I'm alone
I Remain in my thoughts,
Out of Touch That made me evil,
Was always teasing me.

I walk in the rain,
in the storm, sunlight
Open ear Purpose
I am no worries, no shelter.

I taste my loneliness
Every day I eat,
This is my outfit, a dress
Nothing bothers me.

I dialogue with my pages
I speak with words
My world, neither true nor false, it
Leads to meler my pictures.

A la recherche d'un droit


I want a small space,
where can I stay
carefree, without grimace,
my mouse only to show ...

From the garden to the library,
my right gets rid
from evening to morning, I space
in the office, at the pub, disco ...

to me, this is just outside
I live without reason;
the place from where ever I go,
it is a corner in me, my own house.