13 décembre 2018


Je deviendrais notre partage
notre pain partagé

Amour si tu venais
comme un voleur dans ma nuit,

Et comme un feu qui distingue,
une lampe qui brûle,

Je dis et je dirai, amour,
au temps qui te convient :

Voici beauté d'enfant
qui émerveille et que j'adore !

Amour à cœur d'orage me fait tison,
et tisonnier je porte mon cœur
de dit en dit, d'heure en heure
et de poème, enfant, à ton visage d'or.

22 octobre 2018

Through the Water

Through the water the old souls want and wander
Through the water
Not this or that water though
Behind the dream and the tear
Behind the black lake in the night
And the well that was your first love
Between the black eagle high in the icy sky
And the ruffle of his feather in your heart
Through such water the old souls want and wander
Through these waters they come to give.

Hear the drum, human child !

02 octobre 2018


Et le poète danseur des mondes
Rêve la vie que la mort rêve
En un corps dément
Que mille âmes occupent
Sans qu'aucune forme un soi
Palais sans roi que des chevaux fous
Aux ailes d'oiseaux rapaces
Font hurler dans la nuit sans étoiles
Et le midi ardent qui incendie la sylve
Fleuve de feu parmi les mille lacs d'eau noire

Le rêve de la vie déjà s'écoule parmi les os
Parmi les orbites décharnées
des yeux aveugles d'avoir trop vu
Des lèvres craquées d'avoir trop bu
Les montagnes se dressent et s'écoulent
Comme vagues de pierre
Et tu n'en as rien su

Va et meurs, petit homme !

27 août 2018

To the children, from death

I'm not sure I'm still human. If I were there would be others like me and we would be a people, but there isn't.
I've left humanity by the most common, casual way : death.

I died in the Spring of 2012, body and soul. Except breath was the only thing that resisted death. I was dead but a semblance of a body kept breathing. I could no longer sleep yet I couldn't think either. The sense of an existing self was gone. There was no ego to attach to the crazy cogito that was howling impersonally. Thoughts and memories were there, most of them broken, scattered, torned and deformed beyond recognition, but there was no way they could be mine because "I" didn't exist.
There was a cold black hole and a howling that at some point started to call itself "I" and "me" that to this day is still only the witness of this body and its thoughts and memories.

So "I", the sole inheritor of the life that once was the only child of her whose death shattered all but the most primal breath, am still becoming a new species made of one whose paths of love are as strange as the way I manage to weave those alien patterns of a dead world, so far being able to sustain myself and create a little something for all the children of today when they have become the men and women of tomorrow.

One who always was a bit strange and became much stranger is now, children, forever yours.