Recueil de poèmes «Before the world felt silent»

UTOPIA

Today I feel lonely
And I miss a world
That has never existed
Except for me.

THE INTIMATE TOUCH OF THE NOTHINGNESS

Everyone’s hairs stands on end
These are entangled tales
In an affectively charged dance.
The sensuality of the flesh,
Where repulsion is a the core of attraction.
Between my hand and your skin
An empty space.
What I will ever only really feel
Is your electromagnetic energy.
I will be able to sense the Abyss,
On the edge of the infinitely fine blade
Just enough to barely graze your surface.

THE TROUBLE OF SENSING THE ABYSSES

This would seem to require to be in touch with the infinite, the muted cries of the silence that speaks.
A dispersion of identity in an entangled relationship with otherness.
I fear the madness
In the hopes of a more oderly world
Accessing to the background hum of life, it murmur a message
In a radically queer intimacy.
All things have border that make them what they are.
As a line in the sand.

BÊTE NOIRE

Medusa has died,
But tomorrow has
Petrified me.
So have your eyes
Troubled me.
I stumble around
With lungs filled
with liquid air
So heavy to carry
on gelatin legs.
Let’s go and chase
the boogie woogie

HUNTING DAY

Some days I feel strong for a second until the fear of failure strikes.
I was chasing the urge of productivity but the shot had missed it.
It went on hiding.
I felt everything at once pain, will, power, fear, confusion, distress, guilt
Of the world,
Of myself
Paralyzingly numb,
The crackled ceiling was my raft.
Carrying me to paradise. Banana trees under the snow welcomed me.
The warm feeling of the river held me.
Lying in bed like I would
In the middle of a dreamed jungle.
No need to question my abilities,
No need to be coky
Tomorrow we will play
The tiebreaker
Again.

YEMANJÀ

I dreamed I was at the edge of the beach.
Starring at the waves.
Many stars in the sky, and the moon was so bright.
I was lost ine the World
Without any idea where to stay.
Suddenly a soft voice told me: come to me.
She made me smile
She made me cry
Full of temptation in a fishnet of desire
I am no monster, no woman, no animal. I am your beliefs, your dreams and your urges.
In my arms you can hide.
A hug as a drug
A hand for lover
Baby please don’t you cry
You eyes are going to be so dry
But I am never going to die.

SEASHORE

I have written many wishes on the sand
And the foam stole them away
To the waves I offered my problems.
In return for my greetings,
All my toes got a salty lick.
On the seashore
The seahorses were waiting for me.
I will be back with many stories.

MISS DEEP BLUE SEA

The little mermaid is for many
Only a very sad story.
Although there is something
So much true about it.
A young girl who has to make a choice
On which measure she will leap.
Her body belongs to the deep sea
Yet her heart to the dry land.
She wants to live in the sunlight
But she only sees the moonshines.
To the in- between she must belong.
Neither fish nor fully woman is she.
Too mystical for this dull world,
She swept past in a blue velvet dress
No one there to witness.
A pretty little thing of the border.
she is the most happy at dawn.
A young girl of the edge.
In her echo, my shadow.
Hand in hand at the edge of the sand
We danced.
If you could not hear the music,
We were not the only one insane.
Magic girls of the fringe
In our smile always a tear
In our howl always a giggle

OLD SOUL

Don’t let me all alone,
I am so afraid of the darkness
Of my own voice.
Yet what I feel is real.
I have stopped counting the stars Once I have crossed the deep blue sea.
I am from yesterday until tomorrow.
I carry with me the spirit of the ancient.
Once I had wings and they became fins.
In my chest I carry their language,
their laugh, their cries.
We might call it an old soul.
Together we are followers
of the moon, the sun and the ocean.
A woman of magic.
What people like to call witches
I can hear the plant breath
And the waves wailing.
A woman of magic
A very old spirit
I live in a world with broke down memories.
They can seem phony to you
But they are undeniable to me.
If you step on the fringe
You might hear the goose pray
And the mermaid hum.

L’AIR DES BIRGORNEAUX

Faire pleurer les yeux du jour
Et grelotter la nuit.
Caresser ce visage qui perdit sa face,
D’un murmure il crie
Son appartenance déchirée.
L’écume se crispe et prend de l’amplitide.
Elle pénètre le rideau de brouillard qui l’entoure
Et dérobe sous ses yeux creux
Les présents impatients des ses limites de feu,
Dans un silence assourdissant.
En Choeur sonne l’heure des coquillage,
La fin d’un chapitre,
Un Hymne de beauté.

NIKÉ TA VICTORIEUSE

Pas de bras,
Pas de tête,
Que des pieds pour exister.
Etre sans penser, sans sentir, sans souffrir.
Que des pieds pour marcher
Toujours droit devant sans se retourner.
Un pied pour trébucher
L’autre pour se relever
Le genou ensanglanté
Pas d’yeux pour pleurer
Que des pieds pour grimper
Un pas devant l’autre
Sans se retourner