1 févr. 2017

Lost city

A little something I wrote in October, but don't remember writing! Those texts are often my favourite, pulled from the depths of my subconscious... 

Wandering among the trees, I found a lost city. She called to me in a voice I thought I recognised from a dream.
Come to me she said.
I'm waiting.
So I put down my bags, let go of my compass, and walked towards the voice.

The streets were empty and bright but still I walked on, called by a sound I couldn't define.
It was a song. I recognised it as I turned the corner. It was the song if my lover, the one I had left behind, the one I hadn't met yet, the one I had been hoping for.

So I hurried to that voice, to that song, and the streets were suddenly filled with memories of future stories that I didn't know.

And across the road, there she was. With her familiar smile and her hopeful eyes. And the stories we still had to invent.

And as the light grew dim and time stood still we danced and we danced in the city of my dreams. 

23 janv. 2017


J'ai hésité à partager celui-ci. J'hésite encore mais je me lance. Inspirée par ce qui se passe ces temps-ci...

Les nouvelles sont glauques aujourd'hui
Elles l'étaient hier
   le seront sûrement demain.

Les nouvelles sont glauques aujourd'hui
   et je n'ai plus la force d'y faire face.
Les quelques lueurs de bonnes nouvelles
   qui arrivent parfois à traverser la grisaille
sont teintées de discorde qui divise.

Les bonnes nouvelles se font rares
  asphyxiées par les cris d'une foule unie dans sa division
les cris des détracteurs
   des impuissants
        des dépossédés
            des oubliés
                des gens haineux et des gens bien pensants
de ceux qui militent pour
de ceux qui militent contre
de ceux qui aiment crier
de ceux qui aiment s'entendre.

Alors que moi        pauvre petite moi
je m'efface dans le marasme
plus capable de respirer.

Est-ce qu'on ne pourrait pas     juste
Nos différences       oubliées?
Nos blessures          effacées?
Notre rancune          enterrée?

Repartir à zéro
tout détruire pour mieux reconstruire.......
est-ce que c'est ce qu'on fait, là, présentement, dans ces nouvelles qui me paralysent?

Même moi, j'y ai cru.
J'ai vu ces femmes marcher
un monde entier de femmes qui hurlaient
de femmes et d'hommes et d'enfants
unis par ses divisions haineuses
et j'ai eu espoir. J'ai voulu me joindre à eux
pour chanter danser crier
avec l'humanité.

Mais l'union n'était que mirage
la césure     toujours présente
comme une vipère sous nos pieds
serpent de discorde qui susurre:

"Ce n'est pas assez"
"Où étiez-vous quand nous sommes sorties dans la rue?"
"Où étiez-vous quand nous chantions l'espoir?"
"Où étiez-vous quand on voulait nous faire taire?"


Et voilà que la danse de la colère reprend de plus belle et nous entraîne dans une farandole où les sous-groupes se divisent en sous-groupes qui deviennent des groupuscules.

Jusqu'à ce qu'il ne reste plus que des individus qui ne se parlent plus.

L'avenir est glauque et je ne vois plus le futur. 

The Time of the Little Deaths

Wow, two years since I last shared a poem here... I haven't stopped writing, but my creative juices have mostly been directed towards specific projects. Or have been too personal to share. 
This one is pretty raw and personal, but, as the wonderful and inspiring Sarah Slean just posted (as usual, she always comes up exactly when I need her in my life!): "Let your hair down and your scars show!"
So here are some scars from about a year ago. 

Now is the time of the Little Deaths
the Shedding of the skin
     piece by piece          particle by particle          atom by atom

I am changing
leaving the dead parts of me behind
Like a phoenix, reborn from the ashes of a former life

It's not always easy
Death hurts     sometimes
the process of dying is not a peaceful one
it can be full of rage and sorrow
the former self screaming
     begging to be allowed to stay

But the old skin is already too tight
and I can't breathe inside it
 so I squirm
     and pant
        and cry
            and shake
  until there is nothing
nothing left but a shell
  and a naked newborn
terrified by this new world.

Quick! Protect it! Rebuild the old walls!

But no
it must be allowed to take its first steps
to taste and hear and smell and touch
this terrifying      exciting
new world.

This is the time of the Little Deaths
This is the time of the Phoenix. 

28 avr. 2015


Distract me

Help me forget
Fill my ears with nonsense
so I don't have to hear them pleading.

Just for a while
Help me forget
Fill my eyes with a blur of colours and ridiculous images
so I don't have to see
the ugly truth.

For as long as possible
Let me forget
Fill my mind with drivel
so I don't have to think
and wonder
what I can do to help.


Help me forget.

Drown me in music
Let me fly so high
I won't see the world below

Distract me
Make me laugh so hard
I can no longer hear the cries of the grieving

Spin me round
allow me to dance
until my feet bled
until my knees break
until I can no longer breathe
no longer feel
no longer think

And I collapse
like a big lump
on the dance floor
Unaware of the crowd
gathering outside
begging for help.

Help me forget
Make me numb

The weight of the world
feels too heavy for my little shoulders

And I need
to sleep
to rest
to forget

To believe
Everything will be alright
in the morning.

23 avr. 2015


Distract me 

Help me forget
Make me believe that it's not as bad as it seems.
Make me believe that
       Together We Can Do So Much
and that there's still hope
for a better world.

Pull the blinds down
Block out the world
and the news
   of war
     and hate
         and destruction.

Block out the ignorance that rules most of this
      Wonderful World
we live in.

Take me in your arms
Hold me
Until nothing is left
   but you
   and me 
   and love. 

I want to be ignorant.
I don't want to know
that we're headed toward destruction.

At least for a moment, let me keep my head down
and ignore the cries of the lost
  the hurt
     the mislead.

Cover my ears with your loving hands 
so all I can hear are your slow breaths
    in time 
         with my own.

Cover my eyes
so all I can see are the lines on the palms of your hands
telling the story of your life.

Cover my lips with your own
so there is nothing left to be said
no words to remind us of the outside world.

And together
  we will step off the wheel
for a moment            or an eternity. 

Leave the race behind
and forget our humanity.

Just for a moment
Make me forget.

5 févr. 2015


A choir of hippie songs       resonnating in my mind.

All we are saying, is give peace a chance! 
      Love is all you need! 

Come on, people now. Smile on your brother. Everybody get together, try to love one another right now!

These troubled times
My troubled mind
Seek an easy answer      to all the hate.

Quand les hommes vivront d'amour...

La réponse est là      partout    si simple

Mais tellement compliquée qu'on l'a oubliée
à force de se démarquer
à force de pousser pour dépasser la masse.

On a oublié comment s'aimer.

On a oublié que
sous nos différences

on est tous