Thursday, October 27, 2016

Béatrice Machet # 267 Something Series-3




Something Series -3

quelque chose entre deux sommeils avec un goût de cendre jusqu’à soif
                                                                                                                          et fredonne une voix autour du centre absent qui néanmoins impulse un rythme …
                                                                                                          est-ce que la concentration du temps mène au grand bruit ou bien au grand silence est-ce que ce sera musique et si je l’écris pour que lu
                     alors déjà le poème dans l’oreille va son chemin d’osselets pour ne pas perdre le sens de l’interne
                             tout est affaire de tenson
                                                                         basse ou haute et son lien avec le temps
                                             avec l’expérience qu’on en a
                                                                                               en toute humilité rien qu’un souvenir d’élan dans le corps un ressenti de saut
                                                                   qui vous transforme en ange et l’on plane sur les mots comme on glisse sur le blanc
                                                qu’il soit neige    plume
                                                                                        ou pas
                                                                                                     n’importe pas




Something between two sleeps with the taste of cinders until feeling thirsty
                                                                                                                               and a voice is humming around an absent center which however pulses a rhythm …
                                                                                                                       does concentration of time lead to a great noise or to a great silence will it be music and if I write it to have it read
                                                                                                                                                           then already the poem in the ear goes its way of ossicles so as not to lose the sense of inside
everything is a matter of voltage
                                                       whether low or high and its link with time with the experience one has of it
                     with befitting humility just the remembering of a momentum in one’s body a feeling of diving
                           which transforms one  into a swallow and one hooves over words as one glides on the white
                      whether snow    feather
                                                              or not
                                                                         it doesn’t matter

                                                                         
                                                              

2 comments:

  1. Like that feeling of diving - lovely line; the gliding over white; the ending. Very nice Béatrice

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