Tuesday 28 February 2017

Vague

Was reading a quote of Kafka yesterday,
he seemed very, very unknown.
Blotted by tears, soon, upon my face,
or was it, mind, instead.
It was a stroke in my soul:
a mental picture.

I don’t remember it today,
its vague, addressed in ‘life’ and ‘death’,
and that is all I want to think;
in-between is all I do,
and if, by-chance
i understand – what it means,
i know
i will wish the end.

Thursday 23 February 2017

Je crois en quelque chose

quelque chose qui est très petit(e),
une particule obscure.
Une particule qui
ne se voit pas,
ne se sentent pas,
et
ne peux pas être goûté.
C'est à l'intérieur de ton âme,
je parle, mon âme, ton âme.
Pourquoi tout est si vague?