Stack the wood, light the fire

St Patrick’s day  

St Jeanne’s way  

11 September 2010  

You took a second look  

A wish that came true  

For in that small book  

The colour was so blue  

Twas a new age Avatar  

In a world full of change  

Living in a coloured Bazaar  

That may a mind derange  

You feel good and I feel blue  

Rhyme in woods for me and you  

And as you will that blue admire  

Some just stack it for their bonfire  

Bring the wood and stuff the hay  

Hasten now your step you crowd  

St Patrick or else St Jeanne’s day  

All fire we’ll cheer clear and loud  

It might be that it’s St Patrick’s day  

They danced and feasted in delight  

For finally they’d have their way  

The witch will burn now in its light 

♣ 

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPjgO3j67oE

Reading of a modified version of the poem

Mon cri – My cry

Dans certaines traditions indiennes comme dans certaines arabes (berbères aussi), les familles qui vivent de grandes tragédies engagent une pleureuse qui, à travers ses cris et lamentations permet à la famille de rester composée et digne. Voici ma pleureuse. Une gitane, comme il convient pour mon esprit libre et voyageur.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Scus9teTdjo

In some Indian traditions as in some Arab (as well as Berber), families who live great tragedies resort to a mourner who, through her cries and lamentations allows the family to stay composed and dignified. Here is my mourner. A gypsy, as befits my free wandering spirit.

Les meilleurs ennemis – The best ennemies

Quand l’amour a été décimé, tout ce qui reste à un couple lorsqu’ils ont des enfants communs c’est de les partager sans les déchirer. Les besoins ainsi que les souhaits de ces enfants doivent primer sur les besoins et/ou les souhaits de chacun des parents. C’est sur cette base essentielle que la justice devrait construire ses principes législatifs

When love has been wiped out, all that is left for a couple when they have children they share is not to tear them while sharing. The needs and wishes of these children have to take priority on the needs and/or wishes of each of the parents. This is what justice legal rules should be built on essentially.

29 août 2010 / 29 August 2010

Les meilleurs ennemis

 Il faut de tout pour une vie

Les meilleurs amours, si unis

Cœurs épris  et meilleurs amis

Le partage de tout, des soucis

Le poids des années que l’on vit

La distance qui peu à peu s’établit

Le fossé se creuse encore et grandit

Plus rien, plus personne qui nous réunit

La découverte du réel, enfin le corps du délit

Le désespoir, la déchirure, le pardon, le doux oubli

Pour enfin se regarder et se voir là, les meilleurs ennemis

Et rebelote… ou peut être pas cette fois-ci..on espère, on prie

Best ennemies – why love is blind

It takes sorts to get life lighted

The best love, the so well united

Loving hearts, best friends invited

To share everything, all worries spited

The weight of years that one lived excited

The distance settling, by indifference incited

The gap widens and grows with solitude delighted

Nothing, none to go back, by nature’s rules we abided

The discovery of reality, finally the corpus delicti sighted

Despair, tearing, forgiveness, sweet oblivion sadly decided

To finally look on and see in us the best of enemies highlighted

And begin again ..or maybe not this time…we hope, we pray, blinded

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=z00GCA0IHZw

Weathering storms

“Rather windy isn’t it?”  

28 August 2010  

Woman all over the world, suffering

We yield not in vain shuddering 

But pliable reeds, we flex in pain 

To spring back to our tall selves again 

While the strong oak may tower

Over us and want us to cower 

We welcome with love and consent 

All hate, anger and resentment 

To turn darkness into bright light

Despite the hate, despite the spite 

For when HE gave us to hold a womb 

HE knowingly gave within us a tomb 

For the world’s hatred as we can bear 

From suffering more than our share 

But with the womb he gave us the seeds 

To grow within us those slight, silken reeds 

A gift of love so, many a storm, we may weather

With a heart, though sinking, light as a feather 

So when the mighty oak from storms splits 

We resume our grace that us so befits