maybe another time
I will tell you
what blurred my eyes
but did not tell you
what made my story cracked
gave me that austere walk
that made my eyes hurt
and broke my voice
maybe another time maybe another time
Archives de catégorie : prosepoem
the earth was dry
The earth was dry, but looking at the horizon I could see the curves of the earth, its desire to give to those who knew how to wait, how to find and take.
I’ve just realised that bodies fit together like mountains (and then we think we have created everything !).
la terre etait seche
La terre était sèche, mais en regardant l’horizon je voyais bien les courbes de la terre, son désir de donner à qui savait attendre, à qui savait trouver et prendre.
Et je me rends compte que les corps s’imbriquent comme les montagnes (et l’on continue de croire que l’on a tout inventé).
the sky or the sea ?
My hands, from the cold air hide in my pockets. Dark horizon but following the path, skimming the ground with my shoes in the gravel. Is it sky or earth? what we are
What we are
changes (often) according to the seasons
what's on the table
or what the colours of the apples are
the mood of the neighbors
Then comes the day
where the mood is good. No matter what (life is too short)