Hues
* * *
A poet
meets a reader.
A word is born.
|
* * *
The ways of expression differ.
The expressions are different.
As long as they express something.
If there is something to express.
|
* * *
How wonderful
the world could be
with the right things
in the right places,
and nobody out of pace,
getting step by step
from one truth to another...
Beauty
undone
by means of alignment.
|
* * *
Everything's in a way...
Not that I really mean it...
Forgive me my indiscretion...
Just as a matter of fact.
|
* * *
So you...
So I...
So as if...
|
* * *
Absolutely.
Sheer nothing.
Like everybody.
In this universe.
At least.
|
* * *
crazy and obsolete
no doubt but not indeed
deserving mentioning in the
disdainful colors
|
* * *
The impossible is impossible.
The only possibility.
|
* * *
The stars like dust...
A shower.
Starry mud.
|
* * *
On the way
in a way.
On the run
in the long run.
|
* * *
When it comes to philosophy
I do not follow:
I think of the black roses
that I have yet to plant
in the snow.
|
* * *
Much talking.
Nothing said.
|
* * *
They payed the sun
the toll of blood,
to make the slaves
hate
the bloody thing.
|
* * *
I hate the thought
of encountering anybody
on the same page.
|
* * *
A car bumped straight into a new-born stalk of grass.
An horrible accident.
|
* * *
If some nothing
could observe some others
it might make sense
dwelling in nothingness.
|
* * *
Let it be a street.
Take that for a sideway.
A passer-by
to complete the story:
we are still there.
|
* * *
Don't give in.
Yet another letter.
An infinite alphabet.
|
* * *
All in motion.
Nothing solid.
No difference of good and evil.
No reason to differ.
|
* * *
That is why
they badly need
to invent space and time,
just to have something to pass by.
|
* * *
Adopt their ways.
Just for comfort and safety.
No need to really be.
|
* * *
Let us meet
on the other side of everything.
|
* * *
Falling in trance,
feeling too late,
does not improve
the quality of translation.
|
* * *
The blue.
The green.
You
in between.
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