When I thought about it, at all the time I spent in the waiting room with old magazines and photos on the wall rescued from attics, I felt like a bird perched on an old fridge, in an old boat, waiting for answers, for questions, for fish.
I will travel, standing
in the silence, pink,
of the horizon that dares
soft layouts.
Empty, empty, hands
and the pockets, penniless,
and the fear of villains
in the evening behind the locks
In the afternoon
cars are passing in Mumbles
like there’s not jetty
t was mainly the instructions for the day,
like « you should stay in the shade »
« you sleep too long »
or « you should eat less quickly »
or « chew longer »
in other words, the list of things to do
things that have to be done
or should be done
to live longer
it was that, mainly, that was exhausting
detail, wall, Soufriere, Saint-Lucia, canon, Sylvie Ge
Like the repetition of a circle
vicious or otherwise
the repetition of small misery
like a long queue
at the bank of torments
a too slow queue
at the sentiment market
always in the wrong queue
and small misery
(The terror of closed doors
says more than you think)
Parce qu'une image vaut mille mots
Exhilarating, admonishing, embellishing and soothing souls.
Adventurer & Survivor
I WRITE BECAUSE OF HER ❤
Know the world
A brief description of my life and thoughts.
What to see and do in Tunisia
Live more, enjoy life
Be extraordinary, it's a choice!!
Where Life Is real.
"L'odeur du sang humain ne me quitte pas des yeux" Francis Bacon
Poetry, haiku, tanka, and micropoetry
comida italiana
Exploratrice de sensations dans le mouvement
Love and My World
markus.dabeisein@gmail.com
