Friday, August 31, 2007

Une promenade matinale

En me promenant
ce beau matin
je rêve des près lointains
remplis de raisins
jaunes et rouges, pleins
de liquide succulent.
Cet été un paradis humain
avec d'esprit surprenant
m'a prit extrêmement.
Moi et mon petit chien
regardont les pelouses fines
et je rêve des beaux vignes.

Thursday, August 30, 2007

Where to turn

The Völva Vigga was wistful
when watching her wholesome toes
wiggling them in the stirrring whirlpool
what weirdness was predicted?
Which way would her vision work?
Where would her world wind?
Whirling her thumbs in the water
she whispered to the water nymph,
"Voiceless vestal, where can I walk
to calm my vanishing vernacular ways?
I am weaned from my views
of wise worldliness to witless vibes.
Can I revisit my tranquility?"
The water nymph "Evagore"
whipped her tail in the warm whorl
vanished quickly with a wry face
leaving the Völva Vigga to wonder
whether wisdom can be won
from without or from within!

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

A blend

Temple of my familiar
faces and places
like an old Macintosh
you bury yourself in
when you feel cold
or suddenly afraid.
Suddenly paradise tinkles
far away on the other side
only memory savoured
blazing bulwark
a lightness - a wrinkle
but to what depth!
Blended for one moment.

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Trusty London

London by a sunny cool day
strolling leisurely along a wharf
pottering into an olde pub -
the Globe unto Lincoln's Inn,
tumbling upon Covent Garden -
yet all would be for naught -
if not accompanied by a glorious
feeling of trusty friendship.

A disease

Short term memory
gone away - circuits broken
medically temporarily fixed
hits so many humans

Dangers await those
inflicted - bliss it is not
partners need patience
patience and patience

For the well - a true loss
slowly build up a strength
needed - a time out
to give and give and give.

No equality is left
nothing you expected
will be there - a void
Avaunt terrible disease.

Sunday, August 26, 2007

To a friend of timelessness

A friend from the past
yet it seems like Thursday
last week when we spoke
but it was ten years ago.
Rub another 28 years
away from the window
of unreal relativity.
Our bodies' timekeeping
counts for nothing -
sentiments everything.

Friday, August 24, 2007

Les vins futurs

le vendange commence
dans mon petit village
les gros bleues machines
araignées piquent les mouches
les raisins verts et lilas
les vignes supportent
leur machinations brutales
la saison de l'automne
les vins futurs font rever
les maitres et leurs esclaves

Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Mon don

Paralysie cérébrale
est mon nom
et mon don
sans cette maladie
je ne serais pas
l'être humaine
avec l'ironie.

Tuesday, August 21, 2007

A wet dream

Hypnotic eyes
dazzling hands
where are you
my dream lover?

Brains abound
taking by storm
calming my wits
my horny desires!

A dream lover
remains forever
an illusion: yet
I can dream, can't I?

Monday, August 20, 2007

A Constable painting?

Winds high and mighty
against the tide we flow
the fairies and the women

Sun peeking through
flying fierce clouds
the gnomes and the men

Storms and quietude
variety abound
souls' meeting forever.

Friday, August 17, 2007

Now Haiku

Trotting happily
with the sun as a sidekick
I dwell in the now

Tuesday, August 14, 2007

L'homme et son chien

Un homme qui promène avec son chien
dans mon petit village
Il m'embrasse - il me dit bonjour
Il me donne des compliments
Il fait me sembler comme une reine.

On a besoin de l'amour simple
de sérénité, de l'amitié, de se sentir bien.
Un homme qui promène avec son chien
je lui suis très reconnaissante
car il me donne un jour qui n'est pas en vain.

Sunday, August 12, 2007

A dent

Dent in my car
most cars have one or two
in my little village

Bruise on an ego
of a young male
in my little village

A learning scar
if nothing else
in my little village

Tuesday, August 07, 2007

Un cadeau

Ma soeur d'esprit vivant
si peu de temps on s'est rencontrée
mais dans nos années qui nous restent
il faut se bavarder, se rire, s'émerveiller
du rencontre de notre jeunesse.
Un cadeau de la vie folle.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

A book

Read a book
about a boy
from a world apart
we could learn
a lot and I applaud
the author's art.

On reading the final book
by J.R. Rowling

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Un jour d'ete

Un jour d'ete gris
les fleurs du village
sont plus formidables
qu'au soleil brillant.