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jeudi, 19 mars 2009


Une toscane rêvée
En forme d'inassouvissement
Près d'une tasse à café
Et d'un calepin noirci
Par des signes inconnus
Qui racontent toujours
De pieux mensonges
Ou les mensonges des épieux
Que les épées entrelacent
Dans des duels en solitaire


Gilles, I found an interesting piece you wrote, 'Parle en Silence' and was intrigued by the sentiments you expressed. When I finished reading it, I was left feeling empty and sad. The first few words you wrote pull the reader magnetically in but the end is like a slap. You certainly do construct complex structures from feelings. I'm going to think about this work for a while I believe. At any rate, Merci.

Écrit par : Val | vendredi, 20 mars 2009

the last words of this piece are "when will you learn to breath? when will you live?"

it can be considered in this way (for instance, but other ways can apply too):

"when will you take the road to troy?" (or to jericho or any other battlefield where a city has to be burned or to fall down)

a slap, you said? i cannot answer for the ones who are reading (each reading is different, even in a same reader), but if there was a slap, who gave it to who? (or which part of you gave it to which other part)

in a way, a slap can be a good thing, a kind of signal maybe.
i really don't know, but you'll find the answer in you (if you want to find it)

Écrit par : gmc | vendredi, 20 mars 2009

The 'slap' reaction for me was more akin to shocked surprise. The contents are lovely and for some peculiar reason, I thought of a roof top and mirrors. I think you've inspired me to write something now. Merci Gilles, for your poetry and your response.

Écrit par : Val | samedi, 21 mars 2009

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