No quiero olvidar tu sonrisa

No quiero olvidar tu sonrisa

Y tu piel que siente la vida

Je ne veux pas oublier ton sourire

Et ta peau qui sent la vie

Lisse comme les feuilles d'olivier

Et plus sauvage qu'une coulée de lave

Ton tonnerre claque chacun de mes jours

Et à chacune des marées que tu invoques

Armée de tes bras comme des faux

Capable de trancher des horizons

Tu ressacques le limon qui m'enlise

Et rien ne m'importe plus que les vagues

De ta chevelure d'automne

Et des filaments blancs de tes iris

Je n'ai jamais su faire face

Jamais su refaire surface

Je n'ai jamais su que dire

Et parfois je me surprends à sourire

En repensant au goût des fraises de Malte

Quand je t'embrasse

Et le bleu de la mer

Dans l'écho de la conque

Dans le roulis de la barque

Tu m'as appris qu'il faut savoir s'obstiner de temps à autre

Laisser de côté la fureur et marcher

Éviter le regard des méduses

La morsure des soleils de Fez

Et marcher sans d'autre prière

Que celle de clémence faite au vent

Certains se sont fait un peu moins qu'un nom

En gravant "j'étais là" dans la pierre de Corinthe

Passée par le sabre et le feu et le temps

L'anonymat ou l'immortalité

À portée de plainte contre la mort

Tu m'as appris que pleurer comme un enfant

Ne doit pas faire peur, et ça m'est passé,

Car plus d'un a péri sans un souffle conservé

Et l'équilibre est maintenu comme une assiette

Sur la pointe d'une baguette.

Tout arrive si vite qu'on n'a plus le temps.

Alors on disculpe à tour de bras

Et l'envie tourne au vinaigre

Parce qu'on ne sait plus comment faire.

Et d'une poigne de fer on plie la dune.

La nuit semble impénétrable pour qui ne sait pas que la nuit existe

La magie du doigt opérant l'entaille dans le vif de la pierre

Rectiligne car il n'a jamais eu à faire ce geste

Et il ne le répétera jamais –

Il aurait suivi une courbe s'il avait cru en Dieu.

Certains tournent la page en fuyant le jour,

Laissent une traînée incandescente de misère dans leur sillage.

Le marbre dalle nos allers et venues.

Tu m'as appris qu'on fait des choix par amour.

Tu m'as appris qu'il y a des cris dans la nuit

Dont on n'entend que la fin,

Pour peu qu'on ait laissé la fenêtre entrouverte.

Sinon on n'entend rien, car la voix s'arrête, ou on a fui.

Et les aurores reprennent dans tes pupilles

Car tu m'as appris que la vie continue

Car souvent dix mille mains tendues

N'y suffisent pas. Si on le veut, on vacille.

Et les branches des pins bruissent entre tes doigts,

Pareilles à des montagnes qui se caressent

Douze mille ans durant tu m'as manqué

Car la nuit vint s'interposer entre nous

Alors que nous marchions dans les oliveraies de Damas

Douze mille ans que je n'ai baisé tes lèvres

Et autant à attendre ta venue sur ce chemin de terre.

À présent que tu es arrivée,

Je sais que je n'ai pas oublié ton sourire

et ta peau qui sent la vie.

Ups and downs

"Only mediocrity can be trusted to be always at its best. Genius must always have lapses proportionate to its triumphs."

Max Beerbohm, essayist, parodist, and caricaturist (1872-1956)

Slippery when said

"No one means all he says, and yet very few say all they mean, for words are slippery and thought is viscous."

Henry Brooks Adams, historian (1838-1918)

Accidental purpose

"What is the purpose of the giant sequoia tree? The purpose of the giant sequoia tree is to provide shade for the tiny titmouse."

Edward Abbey, naturalist and author (1927-1989)

Sifting

So many times I disagree

with what people say

for I look and think differently

I'm not like them they say

and with that I'm perfectly okay

for I've learnt how to feel

because I went blind

inside

and I perspired the fear

the dark glare of that black sun

which most are content to get away from

so often I'm just glad to be alive

and to be able to remember my dreams

even if more often than not they hurt

even if so often they drive

me nuts

for they show what I spurn

and place a mirror

before my face

for days and days I've been hard-pressed

not to say depressed

but I walked on

in parks

along pavements

sifting the sentiments

scribbling messages

on the bark of the planes

perhaps I've never felt right in my head

but I tend to smile the more

at the silly lies people invent

to thresh reality

to shred their dreams

and they stay at home, content

as I sometimes am, sometimes,

to stay at home when I'm low

and stay put in bed

all lights in the red

but then I get fidgety

I want to see to see

what the world's up to

I'm full of bad habits

and of all sorts of odd bits

but my girlfriend likes me this way

she says we could open up a shop

and sell reveries

and fantasies

to all those who stopped

thinking life's bewildering array

is not too bewildering not to do away

with the oddities

I say that in time we all can learn

to fake even our happiness

and to fool the best of friends

I've been known to talk in my sleep

I've been known to blow a fuse

that's because I've seen the deep

for me darkness has no hidden hues

sometimes I hate to be alone

even lousy company suffices

to feel at home

in this mad world

bar the deficiencies

Sometimes I just hate to be alone

no word

to express

the loneliness

even a word

can shatter

Perhaps I'm mad but that's how I live

and I don't forget to give

as much as I receive

and I leave

on tiptoe

before they know

I was here -

only one line

cut afresh

on a tree

mentions

I am free.

Sunhaze

I sleepwalk all my days

bathing in sunhaze

I'm bogged-in at nighttime

swathing in moonslime

dusk and dawn offering nothing less

than a sedative inbetweenness

I lick my wounds

in the cold house

finding comfort in the relative

security of four consecutive

standing thickwalls

I pass the days half-awake

sunhaze-baked

I strut the strung streets at night

moonslime-bedight

stuck and gone where people used to sleep

where sentiments through spun shadows seep

Tomorrow I boxed-up and shelved,

yesterday-like, as null and void,

as unlookedforward to

dismissed in absentia

clammy doldrums that can't be helped

plodding through nights after nights

through moonslime and trodden lights

sunhaze stilling all my highs

sunhaze burning through my eyes

Alliteration

"Everyone, in some small sacred sanctuary of the self, is nuts."

Leo Calvin Rosten, academic, humorist, scriptwriter, storywriter, journalist (1908-1997)

Attention

She doesn't pay attention to me,

Nor does she to anybody.

She never does, unless she must.

She passes her days

In a blissful daze

Only minding the urgency

Or what will impact her life

in the next five

minutes.

One day she'll pass away

quite unmindful

of the sad disarray

of the hassle

she'll leave

behind.

Metarie - Brendan Benson

Met a girl, introduced myself
I asked her go to with me and no one else
And she said "I'd really like to see you everyday
But I'm afraid of what my friends might say.
You need a bath, and your clothes are wrong,
You're not my type; I can tell we wouldn't get along."
I just laughed — what else could I do?
Just then her friends chimed in, sayin' "Get a clue.
Get a life, put it in your song." (Put it in your song.)

There's something I've been meaning to say to you
I've run out of gas and I'm stuck like glue

I'd had enough; I couldn't take it anymore, yeah
So I turned and I ran straight for the door
Bought some mags on my way home
For later on, you know, when I'm all alone
Bottle of wine and some cigarettes
A racing form, maybe, maybe I'll make some bets
I know a guy - lives in Los Angeles -
Sometimes his life there makes me so jealous
I'd like to move out of this place
Change my name, get a new face
Get a life, put it in my song (put in in my song).

There's something I've been meaning to say to you
I've run out of gas and I'm stuck like glue

I'd like to move out of this place
Change my name, maybe get a new face
Sleep all day, stay up all night, yeah
Everybody I meet thinks I'm alright.

Get a life.

Reap what you sow

"Flatter me, and I may not believe you.
Criticize me, and I may not like you.
Ignore me, and I may not forgive you.
Encourage me, and I will not forget you."

William Arthur Ward, college administrator, writer (1921-1994)