Les âmes sombres / Dark souls

Des hameçons
Des âmes sombres
Des larmes d'ombre
Doucement
Tombent

*******

Fish hooks
Dark souls
Tears of shadow
Silentely
Fall

(D.B november 2014)

The Pirate Woman

Black letters 
with warm frozen wings
The mist
Coming out of my mouth
Wrapped with a thousand
Expectations
Crystallized in a moment
Without any mooring
Or harbour

A clock without needles

Musical squeaking against the window
The burn in my heart
An echo to the sun
Warming your skin
So far away
I imagine
The soft murmur of the waves
Breaking on the shore
In the dark

Dreams lashed
By the black velvet
Halfway
Between the passive wait
And the indomitable revolt
Fighting
Against
What I am not

I shall soon be
The Pirate woman
On the effervescent river
In a voluntary exile

Freedom
Love

I write your name on my wall
I size you
Challenge you
I weigh you
I look for you
Cherish you
Desire you
Invent you
Giving you the colour
Of my dreams

I sometimes find you
In the certainty of a moment
In a heart ready to burst

A moment of infinity
where your kisses
Have the intoxicating taste
Of the rarest spices
Your skin against mine
A symphony of
Satin, fire and silver

The next moment
I'm losing you again
In the absurd, incomprehensible
Equation of Life
Where nothing else moves
Except the balance
That weighs, calculates and judges
Losing you in its rigid monotonous swaying
In the precarious satisfaction
Of the minimum
In the deadlines
The accountabilities
The stolen sleep
The hollow hours

You
Me
The mirror
Pivoting and scratched
In the center of inertia
Of my dreamt life
The race
The pure and intense
Alchemy
Always present
And yet so far away
So fast

Silences that flay
Sometimes
Spreading bursts of killing silence
Infinite distances
Having to face the relentless demand of life

Getting up
Running fast
Fighting hard
Gloves on the fists
The frantic race
Going ahead

My words with feverish colors
Flying to you
Full of desire and despair

I imagine that some of them will be lost on the way
Tired, maybe they will not go to the end of the road
Words
Flowing and flying
To blossom in your distant Autumn sun

The coloured musicality
Of your name
Affecting my iris
And my soul
Like the majestic scattering
Of a volcano in fusion

          *******

La musicalité colorée
De ton nom
Caressant mes iris
Et mon âme
Tel l'éparpillement majestueux
D'un volcan en fusion

Gold

You are the gold
Filling in
My breaches

The warm and soft
Ondulation
Spreading gently
Over my soul

My companion
With caring hands
And breath untamed
Your wilderness
Added to mine
Singing to my ears
A song of the beginnings

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