Tata Beach. What remains when you realise that you have reached the end of a long relationship, whether friendly or otherwise, because everything has been said.
We will say to each other
here is what I have done
here is what I have said
here is who I am (now)
here is where I will be
then a long silence
it will contain our story, long and with no regret.
The cabbage trees stand in line like little soldiers, they are so unique, as if each one was developing a singular personality, Tata beach
…like that day when a familiar face appeared on someone else’s face. Ghost? Hallucination? Premonition? The stories align, integrate into the chaotic flow of time passing in gusts of wind, in sandstorms, or slowly like a young seagull that has not yet learned to cross the street.
photo: Wainui Bay, near Pohara, oystercatchers tend to be moody, seemingly very busy and impatient, a lot like human beings, it seems.
We were going somewhere, but where, we didn’t know, yet it seemed like a good idea at the time, although we did not know what was awaiting us
*posted in 2024, edited in 2026
photo: Atacama desert, Chile, an ideal place to visit oneself.
This poem was written thinking around Carl Jung, who suggested analysing our own reactions to daily irritants. I have tried this approach over the years, and it is now what I try to do most of the time, when a situation, a person, or a behaviour irritates me or puts me in a bad mood. The answers become longer and deeper the more I do it and hopefully has allowed me to better understand myself and others as well. It is why, when I look at aggressive, explosive, or hateful reactions on social medias, as well as the slightly more subtle allegedly benevolent remarks masking jealousy, regrets, envy, I tell myself that Jung’s advice could benefit many people.
We project our soul onto the words of others
We reveal our dreams and our dark reflections
When we prepare our hidden invectives
In cheap humour,
We mock those we would have wanted to be
If decency had not been taught to us
What we regret a little all the same
It would be nice
Not to have a soul
For a moment or two
photo: in Peru, a display of what used to be the staple food, potatoes and corn.
The Strait of Hormuz
distress at the supermarket
the shelves are empty
