Ces mains

“As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.”   –  Audrey Hepburn

 

“The final forming of a person’s character lies in their own hands.”  

–  Anne Frank

“Often the hands will solve a mystery that the intellect has struggled with in vain.”   –  Carl Jung

*

Ces mains

These hands

Often struck

With yardstick

Brosse de cheveux

Or any other

Weapon of war

*

Ces mains

Learned that they

Were best kept

Out of the way

Out of danger

*

Ces mains

Learned that

Other hands needed

Holding

Frail hands

Confused hands

*

These hands

Eagerly reaching out

To those in want

Or need

Finding hands to hold

Or guide

*

These hands

Never raised in

Anger

These hands

Gentle

Kind

*

Ces mains

Sont les

Miennes

*

Bisous,

Léa

Garde de la porte

“Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking toward me, without hurrying.”   –  Jean Cocteau

“Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them.”   –  George Eliot

*

Garde de la porte

Her long thin fingers

Barely grasp the pen

She keeps the ledger

Faithfully

Un stylo noir

Ink blood red

Leaves its mark

On cool vellum sheets

All capital letters

She spells out each

Name clearly

No margin for error

Mother, brother, child

Eventually she writes us

All in

Sans jugement

Ou passion

She never tires

Fille de

La mort

*

Bisous,

Lèa

changement de saison

“In the depth of winter, I learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.”  

–       Albert Camus

*

changement de saison

colours bleed

from my pallet

mimic the leaves

of the vineyards

sunlight creeps into

my window

seconds later

each morning

you can feel it

in the air

pas froid

yet not as it was

le plage

occupé

tourists tenuously grasp

vacations shimmering moments

memories and souvenirs

postcards, sunburns

fondu comme nos

empreintes

dans le sable

*

bisous,

léa

L’ete

“In summer, the song sings itself.”   –  William Carlos Williams

 

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.”   –  F. Scott Fitzgerald

 

 

L’ete

Slowing down my mind

Halt the eternal quest

For tomorrow, next week

Or a favorite holiday

Even before summer’s

Waning begins, the

Yearning for it starts

Anew

*

Learning to delight in

Nuances of each season

Colors of gold, red, yellow

Then brown splashs

Across the vineyards to

Les abres

Soups simmer once again

A late squash-corn chowder,

Black bean or hearty vegetable

Avec pois chiche

*

Le Printemps donne l’espoir

Les fleurs,

Vibrant green leaves

Sur le vigne

Life cycle

Reaffirms herself

Le cadeau de la mere nature

*

Most difficult

Pour moi

Making peace

Avec l’hiver

Taking my breath away

Lodging its chill

Deep in my bones

Even when sunlight bounces

Across a rare snow

Longing takes over

Summer feels so far away

*

Bisous,

Léa

splash

“We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch – we are going back from whence we came.”  

–  John F. Kennedy

 

“The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever.”  

–  Jacques Yves Cousteau

 

“The sea does not reward those who are too anxious, too greedy, or too impatient. One should lie empty, open, choiceless as a beach – waiting for a gift from the sea.”   –  Anne Morrow Lindbergh

 

“The cure for anything is salt water: sweat, tears or the sea.”   –  Isak Dinesen

*

splash

yes

that’s how I’ve always

done it

with a big

SPLASH

head first

then immediately

diving to the bottom again

and again

the waves

have always

picked me back up

set me on my

feet

never one to stick

in a cautious toe

followed by a

hasty retreat

or gradual

wading forth

to do so

would defy

nature

*

bisous,

léa

still

“Touch has memory.”   –  John Keats

 

“So she thoroughly taught him that one cannot take pleasure without giving pleasure, and that every gesture, every caress, every touch, every glance, every last bit of the body has its secret, which brings happiness to the person who knows how to wake it. She taught him that after a celebration of love the lovers should not part without admiring each other, without being conquered or having conquered, so that neither is bleak or glutted or has the bad feeling of being used or misused.”   –  Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

 

“Who taught you to write in blood on my back? Who taught you to use your hands as branding irons? You have scored your name into my shoulders, referenced me with your mark. The pads of your fingers have become printing blocks, you tap a message on to my skin, tap meaning into my body. Your morse code interferes with my heartbeat. I had a steady heart before I met you, I relied upon it, it had seen active service and grown strong. Now you alter its pace with your own rhythm, you play upon me, drumming me taut.”  

Jeanette Winterson,  Written on the Body

 

 

still

*

i lie in your

arms

watching you sleep

not wanting to wake

you

yet this appetite

this hunger

for more

you

grows

with each breath

you take

*

still

i want to touch

you

to

rèpondez à plusieurs

reprises

to the cool

then searing

brand you leave

on my flesh

inside

a chorus of

cells

echo the mantra

you, you, you

jusque-là

i remain

under your spell

*

bisous,

léa

il vit dans la lune / he lives in the moon

“Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.”                  –  Buddha

 

“There are nights when the wolves are silent and only the moon howls.                       –  George Carlin

 

“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.”      –       Anton Chekhov

 

il vit dans la lune / he lives in the moon

a man in the moon?

or so they

tell us in

rhyme and

verse

*

so be it

i shall

go to him

in the dark

a pilgrimage

*

finding solace

in each of his forms

devotedly he returns

watching over me

in slumber

*

dreaming peacefully,

breath comes soft and easy

in benediction

he showers me

with stars

*

Bisous,

Léa

Bone speak

“The evil that men do lives after them; the good is oft interred with their bones.” 

–      William Shakespeare

 

 

 

Bone speak

Not yet

Brittle

Yet perhaps

A bit of a rattle

De temps en temps

Where I have lain

Broken

In the past

*

That speeding car

Stopping in the back

Of my own

Fracturing C2

The axis

Of my revolving

Kindly you didn’t

Sever spinal connections

*

So many years ago

Even a scan doesn’t

Find a trace of you

Yet the coldest wind

Tightens its grip

Rappel de mon cou

Of what might

Have been

*

The only evidence

Lies buried beneath

Long muddy brown locks

Burr holes, for traction

A puzzle for future

Anthropologists

Pas du tout

My ashes will not

Be found

*

Bisous,

Léa

Talk: it doesn’t come

“The most exhausting thing in life is being insincere.” 

–       Anne Morrow Lindbergh

 

“It has always seemed strange to me… the things we admire in men, kindness and generosity, openness, honesty, understanding and feeling, are the concomitants of failure in our system. And those traits we detest, sharpness, greed, acquisitiveness, meanness, egotism and self-interest, are the traits of success. And while men admire the quality of the first they love the produce of the second.”   –  John Steinbeck

 

“A man is the sum of his actions, of what he has done, of what he can do, Nothing else.   –  Mahatma Gandhi

***

Talk: it doesn’t come

It doesn’t come

Any cheaper

Than that

A few words

Without the

Actions to

Reinforce

My lack of

You

Why you call

Once or twice a

Year

In five years

Not a single

Visit

Yet when there is

Brief chat (always too busy)

Or email

You tell me

You love me

And how

I am

Missed

But the

Actions

Or shall we

Simply say the

Lack

Of action

Reverberate

Across the

Sea

***

Bisous,

Léa

Vérités factices

“It is discouraging how many people are shocked by honesty and how few by deceit.”

–       Noel Coward

“During times of universal deceit, telling the truth becomes a revolutionary act.”

–       George Orwell

“The great masses of people will more easily fall victims to a big lie than to a small one.”

–       Adolf Hitler

“For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, who art as black as hell, as dark as night.”

–   William Shakespeare

* * *

Vérités factices

In the beginning

The mirror was cracked

Fragments dispersed

Edges splintered

Scattered

Unrecognizable

As to the piece

Of origin

Dust-like particles

Swept up

Glued into something

Resembling

Legitimacy

Recorded by the

Proper authorities

These lies follow me

Those who could testify

Are dead, save one

She drones on

Spinning her

Webs of

Deceit

* * *

Bisous,

Léa