Friday 28 August 2009

the regained splendour of summer: her skirt of fire (2)

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i remember.
carefully balancing her forty kilos
in the palm of my hand,
i remember thinking what they had taught me to think.
she needs help.

i remember us facing each other.
i, queenly seated in my warm flesh
sending my snails out into the mouth of things,
their silvery tents glued to each fragrance,
each darkening juice of this world.

my soul, the hungry tide of my body.

she, for whom even a cloud
speaks too loudly of being.
she, condemned to the silence of matter,
attached by her shadow to heaviness.

i remember the day too,
the day when i understood.
i saw the light becoming breath
on the verge of your skin.
i whispered the song of the skirt
on your thighs of air,
the pale indian silk rustling
deep into your disappearing bones.

your body, the fading memory
of your soul.






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27 comments:

  1. so the question is: when will you be posting the video of this?

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  2. After I see these stunning pictures, and read the poetry, it remember me this few lines:

    If I say it...

    as I know how to say it
    immediately
    you will see my present body
    fly into pieces
    and under ten thousand
    notorious aspects
    a new body
    will be assembled
    in which you will never again
    be able

    to forget me.

    - Antonin Artaud -

    Namasté M.

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  3. I love the narrative of growing intensity that culminates in the final two images, this abandonment to the fire, this fire that takes over the world.

    Beautiful lines:

    "sending my snails out into the mouth of things,
    their silvery tents glued to each fragrance,
    each darkening juice of this world."

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  4. Ab igne ignem.



    (Fire comes from fire.)
    _______________________
    Primi un premiu.

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  5. Roxana MERCI B........... J'ai aimé des mots si léger vent du printemps; j'aime ces ton lumière et surtout cette ambiance de rouge/orange qui est en permanence chez toi. Encore merci être là; Roxana bella.

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  6. umh, did you export them in sRGB? they look somewhat too violet to me

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  7. I won't write anything else of this other than to tell you of tears floating upon eyes at the moment...

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  8. Poetess. I am the one now speechless.

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  9. thieves?
    we are the moon

    her skirt of pale fire

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  10. Skirting the realms of fire and mystery, distant, distant,
    Separated by millions of miles of cables,
    Cables that cross the earth like a net
    Bringing us images on these cold inhuman screens from distant places
    Which speak of scents and breeze and bowls of fruit on a wood kitchen shelf
    And skirts on fire

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  11. your body, the fading memory
    of your soul.


    this line comes back to me
    hours after leaving your pages

    now i must stay here

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  12. Michael, i think that's a long way to go but at least i am now willing to give it a try :-)

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  13. "in which you will never again
    be able

    to forget me."

    ah Marc., you have no idea what you gave me with this poem - i don't know how to thank you...

    (i am so happy you loved the photos)

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  14. James, i've been very shy and unsure about this poem, but if you like even one line, then i think i can breathe again :-)

    (thank you)

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  15. Robert, i am still so touched by your kind gesture... ich danke Dir aus ganzem Herzen...

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  16. Allan, non, c'est moi qui te remercie d'etre toujours present dans mon monde rouge-orange, comme tu le dis, c'est certainement un endroit ou il y a beaucouo d'orages mais parfois le vent peut egalement souffler avec beaucoup de tendresse ...

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  17. Eneles, this doesn't bother me because it is supposed to show the incandescence of fire taking over, otherwise i would have tried to get rid of the reddish cast Agfa portrait always has. normally i do that, but in this case it seemed perfect for what i wanted. i see that it didn't work for you, well, that was to be expected :-P

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  18. merc, i am speechless now, in front of your words... overwhelmed.

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  19. un petit coucou en passant pour te dire que oui Omami et Line sont la même personne, j'ai fais un deuxième blog sur blogger, allez au plaisir!!!

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  20. Prospero, now i love this line, because it brought you back and made you stay here.

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  21. "Which speak of scents and breeze and bowls of fruit on a wood kitchen shelf
    And skirts on fire"

    Owen, how lovely you put that! your lines make me dreamy, and this is dangerous for an already dreaming Bridge :-) thank you!

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  22. Line-Omami, merci beaucoup pour tes mots si gentils, et je t'envie pour avoir le temps d'ouvrir un deuxieme blog :-) je vais venir le suivre egalement!

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  23. PS In this month's National Geographic magazine, near the front there is a lovely photo of two young women walking down a street in Romania clad in beautiful green / blue skirts, sort of the opposite end of the spectrum from these rich warm red skirts here. Couldn't help but think of your blog when I saw it this morning. If you would like to see the photo and don't have a National Geographic handy, I'd be happy to scan it and e-mail it...

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  24. oh, Owen, that's too kind of you! i searched for it on the net and found it here:

    http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/visions-of-earth/visions-earth-2009

    it is indeed an interesting comparison - these skirts are traditional ones, but yes, i see the opposite end spectrum you talk about. thank you so much!!!

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  25. who are those flowers for? fo the looks of them, she has been waiting a long time for him/her. ;-)

    fire is a element that suits you well

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  26. ahahahah

    Zuma, only you could say something like that :-))) indeed, a very long time...

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