Thursday, December 27, 2018

Process

Process.

Well, that time of the year again. They call it "the end of the year", on some random calendar. If I lived in a jungle or a cave somewhere, I would not know of such a time. There would be no xmess, no winter solstice or other priest and priestress dubious marketing schemes. Yet, I don't live in a cave, so I watch and observe the circus. When it doesn't just seem like a very sad and ignorant joke, the lights decoration can be almost pretty to the eye. Yet, the absurdity of it all, keeps a strange juice somewhere, deep in the guts.

Tuesday, December 18, 2018

Letter from a kid



Dear Santa,

Well, here comes that time of the year again. I see in the shops that you are all over the place again, so, I know, it's that time again. I don't know how you can be in so many places at the same time, everywhere I go, you are there. Maybe you have many twin brothers, or maybe you travel really really fast? I don't know, and every time I tried speaking to you, I get no replies, except your "ho ho ho". So, this year, for the first time, I will write a letter to you. I hope you are doing good, and that you are not too tired from packing all the gifts for the kids.

Thursday, December 06, 2018

The blame game



The blame game.

When I was imature, I blamed you
Everything that was going wrong was your fault.
It was easy being a kid, easy being blind.
You took all the forms I wanted,
Parents, governement, religions, lovers.
It was easy blaming you.

Friday, November 16, 2018

One day

One day

One day, my Prince will come, he will be absolutely perfect, and he will stay.
One day, chickens will have teeth et lions will sleep with the sheeps.
One day, the world will be a heaven of peace, and everyone will love each other.
One day, it will be Paradise on Earth where all will be artificial.

Thursday, November 08, 2018

The drop of water


The drop of water.

I clung to you, like a drop of water to a cloud
I was afraid to fall from the sky
We were a fusion
The more I hung to you, the more the inevitable approached: the storm.

Monday, September 10, 2018

Tartine et confiture

Candy Crush ou une métaphore de Vie.
Ou La confession d'un enfant du siècle dans l'age digital pour un hommage à Alfred de Musset.
(attention, ce texte peut contenir des mots vulgaires)

“S'il y a quelqu'un là-haut, il doit bien rire de nous tous ; 
cela est très comique, très comique, vraiment.”
Alfred de Musset.



Click click click. Je regarde les bonbons s'éclater, la confiture s'étaler, je sauve pleins d'oursons. Bref, je fais ce que l'on appelle "perdre son temps". Pour être honnête, je n'aie jamais vraiment comprise ce que cette expression veut dire. Comment pourrais t'on perdre notre Temps, alors, que le Temps est tout ce que nous avons? Quoi que je sache pertinemment que lorsque je joue des heures durant à Candy Crush, je ne peux pas dire que je me sens "satisfaite", pourtant durant mes méditations de clickage, je continue mon chemin. Pour faire mon intello, Candy Crush peut être utilisée comme une bonne métaphore de ce que je comprends de la Vie. Alors, allons y, pour une métaphore de la Vie selon Candy Crush.

Wednesday, August 29, 2018

Data recycling

 Data recycling.

"They say we are a material society, but we have no respect for the material world". Alan Watts.

Sometimes, I empty houses. Strangers, grandmother, family houses get even more personal of course, yet, objects remain objects. It's always a strange meditation on life, death, and what we live behind us when we go. The boxes of clothes, the kitchen wares, all will get eaten by mold and other fungus. All will go back to nature, back to dust we go. Objects fall apart, rotten by years of humidity, eaten by insects and time from which matter has no escape.
What are we, poor little mortals.

Tuesday, August 28, 2018

Une bouteille à la mer


A bottle to the ocean

I prefered to live with your memory than to live with You. I was too afraid to loose you, so I kept you close to me, for never, always and again. If sometimes I missed your body, all I had to do was to breathe and let you slowly penetrate me like a breath of lukewarm air envelopping me with softness.
I prefered your memory to the idea of loosing you. So, I splashed you, everywhere like drops of water on the ocean. I covered you in blue, green and gold. I gave you all the forms imaginable and unimaginable just to better meet you again, to better tame you.
Next time my friend, next time will be the right one, and never again we will forget that we were made to love each other, under one form or another, this has no importance.

Sunday, February 11, 2018

Thanks for the dance



Thanks for the dance

Would like to write snow
But how could I
Better to let silence envelop me
Melting while facing so much beauty.

A white dress covers the Earth
An arranged marriage between Her and Sky
For a day or a season
Winter sleeps.

Tuesday, January 16, 2018

Doodles


Doodles

Eat, nap, eat, sleep
Sleep at night
Play the days
Fog, blue sky, rain
All pass painted by light.

Friday, January 05, 2018

Gratitude


Gratitude

So... My fingers got out of the rust. I put some oil on them, and they started running again. I had been stuck on poetry mode for the last 2 years (in french here). This was the time I came back to my natal country after a long 30 years journey accross the oceans and continents. Since back, all I wrote was poetry. Mind you, poetry is great, fast, efficient. In poetry I learned to erase any extra words. In poetry, I cut to the essentials. Poetry, as a form of hacking: the shortest, most efficient code. Yet, my romantic mind longued to align a few words in order to form a sentence. As the waves passed, the ship started to sail smooth, and sentences started coming back. Often, I was told: "you think too much". Of course I rebelled against this thought, and defended my position best I could. Yet, it was a corect diagnosis. "You have too much wind" said an old Tibetan doctor I went to see a few years in a row. "You think too much" he repeated. The 3rd year, I finally got an explanation to his diagnosis. "It's ok to think. But it's better to think of butterflies" the old doctor said. Now, if this seems like a simple truth, simple things are sometimes the hardest to implement in our daily life.