Subway

There is this woman
On the platform
Shouting
In the subway
Swearing
Spitting out
Her bitterness
Calling out
Passersbys
In a demanding
Urgent necessity
To be listened to

A homeless woman
With a big supermarket bag
I think it may contain
All that she possesses
A woman around fifty I would say
But I'm not sure
And I wonder
What her story is
And what's her life
Does she have children?
A husband?

Her speech is not meaningless
It speaks words of tiredness and anger
I spontaneously see it as Munch's Scream
Born out of
A deep despair and solitude
On the edge of a certain form of madness
From which you  do not come back
A borderline state
An uncontrolled self-exposure
An implosion/explosion
In the heart of the unknown crowd

Passerbys: some watching, curiously
Others: trying to avoid her incriminating look
Each one has become an enemy
To her merciless judgement
And her firm opinions
Some, trying to talk to her
In vain
Some smiling,
Others, maybe not even seeing her
And me, watching them all
Both belonging to the scene
And external to it
The external eye
like a stranger
Although in the heart of it
Thinking
Writing

(Photo: Diane Arbus -  A flower girl at a wedding, conn. 1964)

Trains

Train stations
Variable-geometry places
With a constant architectural soul
Repetitive
And yet Still moving
The imperfect lines
Hurrying and slipping
In a flight
Tangled lines
With smooth curves 
Abrupt slopes
Graffiti walls

I hold
Inside of me 
A thousand years
Of wandering

The whispers
Of a thousand tales

Of boats
Exploring
foreign seas

Each travel
A marvel

Your reflection
In the mirror
Of my travelling dreams
A treasure
To protect
A pride
An outburst

Miles and miles 
To travel with you

Your touch
My rebirth

Your voice
Inhabiting
My soul
And caressing my skin
Your Home
Your harbour

Tunnels 
Detours 
And terminuses
Temporary stoppages 
And transit points 
where sometimes 
Without even realizing it 
We re-direct our lives 
Into a decisive 
Evident
Blossoming

You are a vibration

You are
A vibration
A song
Bursting into 
A thousand colours
Caressing my soul
In a breath
Burning my lips
With your touch
Both the storm
And the peacefullness
Dancing 
In the delights
of my feverish dreams

Spring in Paris

Paris, full of lightness. 
A still feverish winter, falling slowly over the sweetness of a colored spring. 
Place de la Bastille. Busy restaurants. Foreign accents. Nonchalance of the wanderers. 
My skin, my heart, my soul, imbued with your breath and your voice. 
Paris in Spring. A reunion in the heart of an asserted loneliness. Adult, strengthened. Without any concession. A solitude which has grown up until finally finding itself  beautiful. 
An endless break, near the white sleeping cat surrounded by books. Further, Frida and me. 
Long walk along the quays of the Seine. Gargoyles and booksellers.
In the timelessness of the moment, I am. 
I am myself added to You. Miles away. So far, so near. I am the lightness and the freedom born out of your love. 
Looking at the empty seat by my side.
Almighty loneliness. My independance, shivering at the thought of your absence. An inside shiver that envelops my heart, torn by a silent cry of longing.
The pains, frozen in timelessness, thousands of miles away. Like a gentle reassurance, yet. A relief. Your whisper on my lips. 
We are.
(Spring 2014)

Blues Vanilla

He said:
You can hear the music
While listening to the lyrics
I said
It sounded like a poem

Colorful Autumnal vibrations
On a wet and cold pavement

Hearts
Bursting out
Into an unnameable bliss

Almost fainting
At the cup of his mouth

Standing
Inside the city walls
Wrapped by the glorious past
Tasting
The melodious flavour
Of the sacred present

Infinity
Into a gingerbread kiss
From his lips to mine

Words
Fragile
On tiptoe

Waiting
In silence
Careful
In an unbearable
Necessary 
Reflection

Desire
Burning inside
Bursting out
Into despair
Under the deeply conscious 
Ephemeral 
Strong caress
Of his hands

The rustle
Of a material
The sound
Of glasses colliding
Sliding on the table
A hand, waving
A smile
The delicate and powerful 
Movement
Of Life
All around
Whispers
Talkings
Laughings
Hot chocolates
Hot coffees
And other smokers

The lightness
Of our transfigured bodies and souls

I am 'me' more than I've ever been 
And yet not only me now 
I am 'me' transformed by his beauty
I
Become you
You
Become me
Born again to the world

Landscapes
Flowers and stones
Clouds, rain
And wind on my face
Like a painting
Rebuilt 
Through our joint vision
Not a place
With the same colours again
Each one
Inhabited now
By your presence
Enhanced by the print
Of your breath

The familiar
Becoming
Even more 
Familiar

The clearsightedness
Of our mysterious destiny

The heart
Exploding at each second
In the spicy burn
Of a magnificent
Cloud of smoke

Broken lullaby

Broken lullaby 
On your sacred scarlet lips
Antique visions
Of primary fears
Over you
Dark shadows 
Like a thick veil
Of confusion

Some insistent looks
Your masters
Your threats 
Your prison
The curse that holds you
Black, with a sharp edge
Like a sword of Damocles
Above your head


Fly fly
Flying bird
Fly as far as you can
Fly, far from the madding crowd
Far from the empty words 
Of the living dead
Far from the spiteful tongues
Far from the city's blindness

As near as possible
From your heart and dreams' 
Magnificent song

Montmartre

Half not here
And not there yet
Partly absorbed
By the splendid ritornello

Already gone
With the magnificent 
Mute horses
Staring into
Infinity
Their eyes filled 
With a silent madness

Screaming 
Their black and white
Motionless song
Upon the wide sea
Of the crowd

Their breathless galop
Lying in wait
Stopped by the incomprehensible
Wound

One more ride
Another one
As the purple and greyish sky
and its night-shiver
Slowly wraps up 
Everything
Into its coat of dusk
Pointing
Eminently
Toward the murmure
Of the night

Last Night I dreamt (La nuit dernière j'ai rêvé) - English

Last night 

I dreamed 

That you had 'replaced' 
My dog 

I do not believe she was dead yet 

Not in my feeling 

But maybe 

The new dog 

Didn't look like her 

Instead, it looked more like Lassie 

Smaller than her

With more hairs 

And with flamboyant bright colors 

He had a ball in his mouth 

Contrasting 

With the familiar black and white 

Color of my dog

Wagging everywhere 

Heavy and atypical paws

Powerful and ferreting out

Digging the earth endlessly

Looking for 

Huge stones-treasures 

A bi-colored small ball of hairs 

Frightened into a corner 

The first time I saw her

And the snow 

Which welcomed her

Twice its height 

On its frozen tireless snout

Her light weight 

Heavy yet 

And warm

On my lap 

On the couch 

Smile 

Her floppy ears 

At rest 

Her quiet snoring 

Wheezing, sudden surges

In her sleep 

Silence 

I was there 

Among unknown shadows 

Indistinguishable and foreign presences

Looking desperately around 

For my dog 

Who had disappeared 

Nowhere could I see her

Neither her familiar and so vivid speed

Neither her eyes 

Who never forget you

Neither her way to put her head on my arm 

Without I have to say a word 

Spontaneous impulse

In response to a specific movement of my body 

I could not find any attachment 

For the new and beautiful little red dog 

Who was parading before me 

He was a stranger 

Deaf ears 

Not wanting to hear 

This voice behind me 

A foreign and distant voice 

Already

Undone, rebuilt 

Without any constancy 

Or consistency 

An injury 

An unsolved mystery of life 

The dream 

Suddenly became

Heavily 

Painfully 

Wrapped

With a strange malaise 

I was the foreigner

Foreigner

In my own house

An unfathomable enigma 

Caught in time 

Dream time? 

Or reality time? 

And Then

I woke up

La nuit dernière j'ai rêvé (Last Night I dreamt) - French

La nuit dernière
J'ai rêvé
Que vous aviez 'remplacé' 
Mon chien

Je ne crois pas qu'elle était morte pourtant
Pas dans mon sentiment

Mais peut-être

Le nouveau chien
Ne lui ressemblait pas
Il ressemblait plutôt à Lassie
Plus petit qu'elle
Avec des poils plus étoffés
D'une couleur flamboyante et vive
Il avait une balle dans la bouche

Contraste avec le noir et blanc familier
Qui remue partout

Pattes lourdes et atypiques
Puissantes et fureteuses
Fouillant la terre inlassablement
A la recherche
D'énormes cailloux-trésors

Une boule bicolore
Apeurée dans un coin
La première fois que je la vis

Et la neige
Qui l'accueillit
De deux fois sa hauteur
Sur son museau gelé infatigable

Son petit poids
Lourd
Contre moi
Sur le canapé

Sourire
Ses oreilles tombantes
Au repos
Ses petits ronflements
Sifflements, sursauts soudains
Dans son sommeil

Silence
J'étais là
Parmis des ombres inconnues
Présences indiscernables et étrangères
Vaquant autour de moi
Cherchant désespérémment du regard
Mon chien
Qui avait disparu

Nullepart je ne la vis
Ni son allure si vive et familière
Ni son regard
Qui n'oublie jamais
Ni sa façon de poser sa tête sur mon bras
Sans que j'ai à dire un mot
Elan spontané
En réponse à un mouvement précis de mon corps


Je n'arrivais pas à trouver d'attachement 
A ce nouveau petit chien roux et magnifique
Qui paradait devant moi
C'était un inconnu

Oreilles sourdes
Ne voulant pas entendre
Cette voix derrière moi
Voix déjà étrangère et lointaine
Défaite, reconstruite
Sans constance et sans consistance
Une blessure
Et un mystère de vie irrésolu

Alors
Le rêve s'est enveloppé
Lourdement
Douloureusement
D'un étrange malaise

C'était moi l'étrangère
Dans ma propre maison

Une énigme insondable
Hâppée par le temps
Le temps du rêve?
Ou celui de la réalité?

Et je me suis réveillée

Sehnsucht

Consuming myself
From the inside
I can feel
Each second
Far from you
Piercing my body 
And my heart
Like a long sword of distress
In a never ending night

Wrapped with spices, honey
And dancing violins