The Cleopatra Tales 1: Divine Union – Hieros Gamos
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
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:
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
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:
Halfway out of the Dark – Aesthesys
Sailing to Byzantium – Aesthesys
I am Free that is why I am Lost – Aesthesys
Error is Human
20 December 2016
Stick measures
Prodded cattle’s spine
Wine and dine
Meat so fine
Red more than colour brandished
Choice that mouth relished
They feed us
Darkness in a spree
Jerking knee
Fear to flee
Heart knows more than what eye sees
Willful chance to seize
Consume me
My flesh wanton gift
Mend the rift
Spirit lift
Still the hunger in the heart
No souls to depart
Lost pleasures
None in mind to hate
Check me mate
Bid me spate
I will waters overcome
For my Kingdom come
They see us
When we split in three
Hollow sea
Trinity
Casting net to kill disease
An evil to cease
Reveal me
Of thunder in dust
Earthen crust
Steel in rust
See in me anew the man
Error is Human
Reading of the poem:
Rise like a Phoenix – Conchita Wurst
The last of the ranks
5 November 2016
Throbbing vein
At every temple
Roots remain
Unseen patch
From the unwarranted match
Hues of red and blue
Give me clue
Of your fading beat
Instill heat
Slash defeat
Off my dictionary’s sheet
Pages for the white
Compose light
With mystical sounds
The heart’s bright
Sunken grounds
Arena for the giving
Life in forgiving
My soul sling
Cast around your frame
Uplifting
Unweaving
Webs of the dark bereaving
Minefields of the scars
We erect
Future imperfect
Tense regret
Of days wound
Into black knot of neglect
Dark feast for the flies
Sundown eyes
The berating skies
Taunting tinge
Feet unhinge
Slipping onto wooden planks
The last of the ranks
Reading of the poem:
Collide – Rachel Yamagata
The Reason Why – Rachel Yamagata
Horizon – Rachel Yamagata
Co-create
24 October 2016
Illusion
A floating of worlds
In my mind
World without
Percentages of choices
The outcome unkind
Build with me
With more than mortar
Less than stone
Future hone
We celebrate the Divine
In woodlands the vine
Of the growth
We have heard of tales
Flying whales
In Oceans
Floating into the blue skies
Where the strong willed lies
Morrows suns
Warm the purple creed
Blended code
Love abode
They fused the Red and the Blue
We confused each clue
Intentions
A lost path of Pi
Cut the wire
Flamed the fire
Moved around in circle dire
Consequences Grey
Monsters slay
The bright pave the way
Replicate
Co-create
Image of beauty translate
Way of Heart dilate
Reading of the poem:
Arrival of the Birds – The Cinematic Orchestra (The Theory of Everything)
The grass was greener
20 August 2016
She looked across the battered fields lying scorched by the heat around her frame in veils. From afar came its glint, shining eerily under the summer sun. So infused with more than just a hint of light she felt she should run towards it for it looked so beautifully green, it was almost lime-like in its iridescent sheen. She imagined the dewdrops painting life-like shadows alongside the blades of grass, twirling with these latter in those meadows a long-forgotten dance. She could almost sense the hum of the grasshoppers, the sound of brass invading her mind with their invitation to prance.
An arm brushing past hers tore her thoughts away from that beautiful island and its mighty sway. The field around her was buzzing in glee with grey-faced workers in neat rows of three attempting so desperately to instill some life back into the withered plants going downhill. The water ran from their giant cans dark, muddy and lifeless, not even a spark. She watched them smother rather than water the field as more sand and dirt was all the cans would yield. Here and there some poppies had survived, their wild nature breaking free revived by the view of the skies from the murky lands ties.
It was the bluebells that withered the most. Their head hung, their face downcast, they looked like this time they would never last. The secular trees of themselves a ghost looked over the horizons, a sight only they could boast and realised that perhaps this was the last year they would play host to the hundreds of bluebirds that on their branches found outpost to watch the first sunrise. Suddenly a ray split the skies and onward came rains of the most frightful might. To the field workers they were though the most beautiful sight as they gathered out of ranks not bothering how offering to the rain their weather-beaten brow as it washed away the mud. The oldest of trees came down with a thud and as the land under it drank the rain a damp and soon mossy stance took over its grounds again and again and again.
She looked across the reddened field to the brink of where her sight would yield. She looked back to the moss growing on that new land. Its glint was known to her not a new brand. Both far and near she could see it so clear.
The grass was greener.
Reading of the short story:
Green…The Colour of Evolution – Yakuro
The permanent game
17 June 2016
I am wind
Blowing through the ice
Kissing peaks
Lurking deep
Within caverns of the Earth
Beckoning to sun
I am sun
Hiding my glory
Behind clouds
Amongst crowds
Blue red and gold define me
Purple is my frame
I’m water
Flowing through the streams
Gushing forth
Gathering
Glowing energy for all
As I rush to source
I am hole
Blacker than the night
Inhaling
Exhaling
Birthing rejecting matter
Parallel highways
I am Her
Eternal woman
My hand’s touch
Skies’ magic
The blue womb of creation
In red glove of Love
I am Time
Flowing forth both ways
Thrice forward
Once backward
Step back a recognition
Of the wayward path
I am storm
Darkest hues of skies
When lightning
Kisses Earth
When the sky-kissed lands give birth
To new promises
I am light
Brightening darkness
Waning moon
Fills herself
My inner core endless well
Where she transfigures
I am fire
Bottled in the skies
Like genie
Of heavens
Stormy dome my birthing field
I flying Phoenix
I am sun
Rebirth my credo
Concentrate
Of new shapes
Baring the rocky landscapes
That my glare begets
I am all
Impermanent frame
Inner core
Mutating
Cells within replicating
The permanent game
Reading of the poem:
Kyrie – Antaeus
Unwinding all Time
14 June 2016
The wind blows
On sands of the mind
Stripping bare
Ideas
Like wrecked car that truck tows
A recovery
Winding path
It leads to the source
Of all thought
Inner frame
Coil to all what we forgot
The discovery
Do you hear
The voices beckon
Other side
Welcomes air
As the wind hollows the wall
In between phases
In dreamtime
We travel places
Where we see
All that is
Today in tomorrow’s past
The events that last
Beyond Light
There is a darkness
That unfolds
Million leaves
The space tapestry it weaves
Fractal threads twirling
Splitting space
The guiding ridges
They join weave
The cuttings
Loosened ends that minds deceive
On isolation
In the Heart
Shudder throbbing walls
Inner blue
Outer red
In between a thin parchment
Of opposed syntax
The truth lies
In the middle way
Where souls twirl
To fading moon
Where the sage and the fool swoon
In ecstatic trance
Whirl with me
Through the bleak sandstorms
We will reach
Beyond norms
Where everything is nothing
Unwinding all Time
Reading of the poem:
Gafsa – Natacha Atlas
Maktub (etheric messages) – Natacha Atlas
C’est la vie – Jean-Michel Jarre feat. Natacha Atlas
Redefine purple
16 May 2016
Smoky eyes
Redefine purple
The mist’s haze
The mind’s maze
Blue and red now come ablaze
Twining with the sun
End of lies
Redefine purple
Flowing tide
Glowing pride
The boon granted to the bride
Under the new suns
Dragonflies
Redefine purple
Wings aglow
Splendor show
Riding through the high and low
Going with the flow
Reading of the poem:
God is trying to tell you something – The colour purple
The Swan Song
13 May 2016
Blue ribbons
Hang from the dark skies
As the rains
Fill the plains
With the remains of seasons
Spent in wasted stance
Plush meadows
Once breathed laughter’s lines
As the sun
Shone brightly
Upon yards now unsightly
A blossom of graves
They built caves
Within heathen grounds
Released hounds
On the weak
Their kings grovel as we speak
Their battlefields red
Newly wed
The bells ring for you
Pealing love
High above
The cries to bring out the dead
As the black tides sweep
Put to rest
Soul in house arrest
The moonbeams
Hush its screams
It wanes withers but for dreams
Daily sustenance
Daylight broad
The waking penance
Where I walk
Where I talk
My mind in slow resonance
With the sleeping hordes
Iron rod
Piercing my ribcage
They seek rage
Through outrage
The body feels mind repeals
The soul mere stillness
Walk along
I will recount lives
Filling you
With wonders
From deep wells I draw splendors
My mouth a brush stroke
We relive
Many lost embers
The frail heart
Remembers
Feelings more than brief memoirs
Stories for boudoirs
United
The pieces of us
They sing loud
The Swan Song
Crystalline drops that take us
To where we belong
Reading of the poem:
Nocturne – Secret Garden
Swan – Secret Garden
Aragorn Sleepsong – Secret Garden
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