Le berre de rivière (The River Berre)

“I often think that the night is more alive and more richly colored than the day.”

–      Vincent Van Gogh

“Night, the beloved. Night, when words fade and things come alive. When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.”

– Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

“There is something haunting in the light of the moon; it has all the dispassionateness of a disembodied soul, and something of its inconceivable mystery.”

–  Joseph Conrad

Le berre de rivière  (The River Berre)

Tables and chairs

Against an ancient

Stonewall

Across from le

Café

If you are lucky

A seat can be yours

So many tourists

Pageant of color

Paints the sky

As the sun disappears

West

Below

La berre

Dried up

Fish to dust

Few remaining puddles

Disappear rapidly

To be return with

November rains

Un verre de vin rouge

For now

A book

As I wait until

Stars

Take center

Stage

A show that takes

My breath away

Bisous,

Léa

The Immaculate Orgasm

“Even if there is only one possible unified theory, it is just a set of rules and equations. What is it that breathes fire into the equations and makes a universe for them to describe?”
– Stephen Hawking

Introduction: Throughout your life you have been educated in both Creationism, Evolution, the Big Bang. It is time you were given the true origin of the universe.

The Immaculate Orgasm

In the darkness of the void

There is only she

The goddess

She generates-first moisture

As her curious tongue

Whets full lips

With the searching

Teasing, frenzied

Explorations of her body

She generates

First heat

Molten waves

Primal, copious, forceful, fertile

Courses through her

Gaia

Oh Great Earth Mother

Ravishing, clawing digits prod

Breaking through the surface

Probing deeper

Stimulating the core

Compressing volatile matter

Moist lips – tremble

Pounding pelvic thrusts

Pulse quickens

Heavy spasmodic gasps for air

Guttural screams

The silence – broken

Muscles heave – ejaculating matter

Propelling it across the darkness

… And there is light

Bisous,

Léa

Covenant

“A man must dream a long time in order to act with grandeur, and dreaming is nursed in darkness.”
– Jean Genet

“A poet is a nightingale, who sits in darkness and sings to cheer its own solitude with sweet sounds.”
Percy Bysshe Shelley

 

Covenant

 

Song of the evening

And the sun

Slides from my grasp

Darkness

Envelops the earth

In her cool caress

Moon dance is

Rhythmic and slow

Stars flicker

Incandescent – haughty

Offering their vow

Of solidarity

Bisous,

Léa