Anything at All

Anything at All

13 January 2017

christian-schloe-swallows-set-your-heart-free
Courtesy Christian Schloe

 

Judges Dread

The aligned Misfits

They cloaked Earth

From within

Mantle pieces of darkness

Hung below portraits

 

In pour traits

Waters reflection

The joke lost

April’s fools

We sent them back to the schools

Remembering Time

 

You got trend

Of my misread words

Blinded herds

Miscarried birds

Do I even have to Say

Anything at All?

 

Reading of the Poem: 

christian-schloe-venus-hair-with-swallo
Courtesy Christian Schloe

 

“Nothing has to happen. It can just be. Like it was before you got there. It was just being and then you showed up and said, “It’s happening.” But you never saw the time before. Because you were somewhere else. You were there because things were happening. Just show up. That is all you need to do. Show up. It will happen.”

Nothing has to Happen – Hungry Ghosts

A Joke’s a Joke – Hungry Ghosts

Three Sisters – Hungry Ghosts

 

 

Dans la gloire qui périt dans les cendres de nos urnes / In glory perishing in ashes of our urns

Dans la gloire qui périt dans les cendres de nos urnes

(Poème écrit sous forme de sonnet occitan en vers Alexandrin. Traduit en anglais ci-dessous ou ici)

13 janvier 2017

christian-schloe-worx-shockblast
Courtesy Christian Schloe

 

De la lune nous voyons amas de faces obscures

De mille plaines érigées étendard argenté

De la veine essuyons larmes rouges en zébrures

Les faiblesses fustigées pâle sentier arpenté

 

Lendemains nous fuyons, points de croix en suture

De ces pages rédigées en mémoires présentées

En veine cave appuyons des doux cœurs écorchure

Les voltiges dirigées en falaises serpentées

 

Récolte-moi des abimes dans des terres désolées

Quand la nuit s’assombrit dans les pensées nocturnes

De nos souvenirs sublimes en presqu’îles isolées

 

Ravive lueur qui luit dans nos sursauts diurnes

Remontée des vieilles cimes en terrains décalés

Dans la gloire qui périt dans les cendres de nos urnes

 

Lecture du poème: 

christian-schloe-the-woman
Courtesy Christian Schloe

 

In glory perishing in ashes of our urns

(Translation of a poem written as a Occitan sonnet in Alexandrin. See original above or here)

13 January 2017

christian-schloe-mystic-light-by
Courtesy Christian Schloe

 

From the moon we now see clusters of dark faces

Thousand plains erected like a silvery flag

From the vein we will wipe a criss-cross of red tears

Weakness castigated pale pathway travelled through

 

The morrows that we flee, patchwork of cross stitches

From these pages written in memories displayed

On cava vein let’s press the sweet hearts abrasion

The directed vaulting into the winding cliffs

 

Harvest me from abyss in the desolate lands

When the night will darken in the nocturnal thoughts

From our sublime memories in lone peninsulas

 

Revive glimmer that shines in our diurnal jolts

Rise of old mountain tops in the staggered terrains

In glory perishing in ashes of our urns

 

Reading of the poem: 

christian-schloe-woman-head-in-clouds-and-bird
Courtesy Christian Schloe

Halfway out of the Dark – Aesthesys

Sailing to Byzantium – Aesthesys

I am Free that is why I am Lost – Aesthesys

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4tCgxhsz8tM