Comment exister ? How to exist?

Today’s guest-writer Gyslaine Le Gal

 

Gyslaine LE GAL Romancière et Poète Français/Anglais

Ecouter le poème sur fond musical en cliquant sur la vidéo

Dans nos regards qui se croisent,
Dans ces silences qui nous parlent,
Les mots ne s’apprivoisent
Que lorsque nos cœurs s’emballent.

Il reste nos sourires qui illuminent
Toutes ces pensées qui se devinent.
Le temps semble figé,
Tout se passe dans nos pensées.

L’absence est trop souvent marquée.
Alors tout semble étranger.
Les choses perdent toute leur saveur,
La vie semble sans plus aucune couleur.

Mais il reste cette douce musique,
Qui accompagne tous ces cœurs mélancoliques,
De ces êtres devenus solitaires, effacés,
Qui ne savent plus, comment exister.

How to exist?

In our intersecting looks,
In these silences that speak to us,
Words are not tamed
Only when our hearts are racing.

It remains our smiles that illuminate
All those thoughts that can be guessed.
Time seems frozen,
Everything happens in our thoughts.

The absence is too often…

View original post 59 more words

Advertisements

Fear, the Official Story

Every year those who relish a particular taste
pry open this wound using blunt instruments
such as a butter knife or a spoon.
Nothing surgical, for they want the mess
to be visible to everyone. See how it hurts.

It is a strange wound felt
deeply by all who saw its birth
televised. Distances conquered
by grief via satellite.

I remember that disbelief,
texture of leather
in the back of my throat.
Then just as quickly came the fear
of who might be blamed.

The hows and whys and whos
that led to the wound were officially declared
but never put to rest.
Repetition turned to religion.

The wound itself became reason enough
to inflict misery a thousandfold greater.
Years later we are told again
this wound alone matters.

Let nothing get in the way
of this crucifixion.

 

• from Alien to Any Skin, Manila, University of Santo Tomas Publishing House, 2011

Jim Pascual Agustin writes and translates in Filipino and English. He moved to Cape Town, South Africa in 1994. His work has appeared in Rhino, World Literature Today and Modern Poetry in Translation among others. His eighth book of poetry, Wings of Smoke, published in 2017 by UK-based independent publisher The Onslaught Press and is available through them and most online retailers. Jim shares random thoughts and drafts on www.matangmanok.wordpress.com. Twitter @matangmanok

January Night

Reflections by Doc Arnett

I hear the wind
high and hard above the trees in the back yard,
feel its stony edge hammer through
the thin legs of my dress pants.

It pounds along the ground,
refreezing the thawed mush of the earth.

It pushes through
the seams of woods and brush,
shoving up against the cold brick and rock
in an indifferent rush against the house.

I step into the unlit porch,
welcoming the warmth inside the darkness.

On such a night as this,
it is good to have a place
beyond the wind’s lancet,
a place where love is strong.

I climb the stairs,
still hearing the wind beyond the walls and roof.

I lie down in warm blankets,
close to the one I love,
grateful, kept, held,
knowing and being known.

Together, we sink into sleep
in the keeping of Him who sends both wind and fire.

H. Arnett
1/26/10

View original post

A Reminder of Hope and Light on a January Morning

Reflections by Doc Arnett

In the dry heart of winter,
the cold splinters around us,
shards of light cut through
night’s thinning darkness.

A teasing sun rises to the south
of what we believe is east,
bringing an illusion of heat
to leafless limbs and bare branches.

On other days,
a gray heaviness hovers around us,
hazy shadows shift slowly
in frozen passings.

Even through this mist of clouds,
a touch of Light still moves within,
easing clenched fist into outstretched hand,
whispering hope into a land of doubt:

“You live yet
and God still works within you.”

H. Arnett
1/8/18

View original post

the winter chill

writings & wildflowers

the winter chill in the air

means it’s quiet overhead

but the silence

of the trees

doesn’t mean they’re dead

just asleep, hibernating like a bear

View original post

I Am Not Alone

“I Am Not Alone”
By: Kari Jobe

When I walk through deep waters
I know that You will be with me
When I’m standing in the fire
I will not be overcome
Through the valley of the shadow
I will not fear

I am not alone
I am not alone
You will go before me
You will never leave me

In the midst of deep sorrow
I see Your light is breaking through
The dark of night will not overtake me
I am pressing into You
Lord, You fight my every battle
And I will not fear

You amaze me
Redeem me
You call me as Your ownYou’re my strength
You’re my defender
You’re my refuge in the storm
Through these trials
You’ve always been faithful
You bring healing to my soul

Middle of the Bridge

Schibolet

The bus drives slowly

On the bridge over the river

Frozen since long time

Life moves slowly in the cold

But it moves even in the most

Adversarial conditions the strife to survive

Slowly the evolution takes place one winter

At the time, breaking down what can’t hide

From the Eternal cold in this northern town

View original post

The Arctic Cold

Spirit Traveler's Notebook

With his aerial winged feet,

from the Mount of Olympus,

The North Wind arrives

with a terrible breath of Frost.

View original post

crows in the snow

Randal The Handle

black feathers
black as sin
reflecting the darkness within

white flakes
driven snow
covering the world as it goes

the bird sits silent
refusing to sing
drifting snow covers his wings

weighing him down
he cannot fly
a crow doesn’t think to wonder why

he shakes his wings
the snow falls free
raucous brethren call from a tree

they fly through the sky
avoiding the snow
cawing and calling as they go

black feathers, white flakes
clouds of grey
another long winter’s day

(2017)

View original post

This is the time of the opening of the rose.

+

Preceding article

(Poem) Endless Time

+++

Purplerays

There comes a holy and transparent time
when every touch of beauty opens the heart to tears.
This is the time the beloved of heaven is brought tenderly on earth.
This is the time of the opening of the rose.

~ Rumi

Text & image source: Earthschool Harmony https://web.facebook.com/SpiritualQuotesandSoulfood/

View original post