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My pen & paper… my Aeneas


©copyright2014owpp

©copyright2014owpp

After a long absence I take you between my thumb & index
Hoping to continue an interrupted alliance.
In doubtful moments you call, I long…

Words, shapes, phrases, impressions, perceptions, all dance
To my attention but life hollers, its pulse goes on beating,
Its stream resumes its course then, I forget…

I adapt… Until your next signal.

I remember the bond, the relief, sincerity & trust…
Treating you as a living might be ridiculed, to me you are
Most alive, available around the world,

Pristine & unwrinkled you absorb my unpublished, my Arcanum. (1)
Your condition, that I come along provided with ink & scratch
The cavities of my brain.

I will always be thirsty for more so, after a long or short lapse
Count me among your unwavering, your fidus Achates. (2)
My pen & paper, my Aeneas. (3)

P.S This poem was written far back in 1991 then I adjusted it in 2013 & today I readjusted it again!
hope you’ll like it 🙂

(1) Arcanum

A deep secret, a mystery

(2) Fidus Achates

A faithful friend or companion

(3) Aeneas

n. Greek & Roman Mythology
The Trojan hero of Virgil’s epic poem, the Aeneid, and son of Anchises and Aphrodite. He escaped the sack of Troy and wandered for seven years before settling in Italy.

Unabridged- 1987 adjusted January 2013


unabridged ©copyright2013owpp

unabridged
©copyright2013owpp

Unabridged
—————-

A present
A memory
Tears, laughter
So much

So little
You say.
So strong
The fear

Of abandonment
Yours, my own
Emotions
Taking us

To a point
Of no return
Of ridicule
Contempt

So, I write.
My quill
My intermediate,
Unveils

My pride.
Makes you
Listen without
Causing a

Flurry
I have your
Warrant
To what appears

A pink cloud
Protraction of
Our affinity
Staging a few

More moments
Of grace
A pause in
The vastness

Of cosmos.
A confidant
Accomplice
Comate

All the facets
Of what we had
Obverse yet,

Unabridged.

My underrated petiole 1989-Adjusted 2013 With French original text as Ma fane sous-estimée.


my underrated petiole ©copyright2013owpp

my underrated petiole
©copyright2013owpp

My underrated petiole
———————–

Dear companion
Faithful and silent
Thirsty and available
I come to you

At most painful
Times, less credible.
Offering my pain
My joy, the apex

Of my acception.
You listen with
Dead calm
Free from ridicule

Never mocking
Those moments
To traverse.
Deride my fantasies

Bursts, eruptions
Torrent of words
Spurting in dander
Joy or beatitude

You are here
And drink.
Take me as I am
Without judging

Or ulterior motives
Attentive to every call
Day or night
Never fail.

Impartial, always
At my side in
A thousand ways.
My faithful sheet.

Companion of my
Atlantis, serene
At all trials
Or abuse of this…

Underrated page.
______________

Ma fane sous-estimée
————————

Chère compagne
Fidèle et silencieuse
Assoiffée et disponible
Je viens à toi

Aux moments les plus
Pénibles, moins crédible.
Offrant mes peines,
Mes joies, l’apogée

De mon acception.
Tu écoutes avec
Un calme plat.
Libre du ridicule

Sans jamais moquer
Ces moments
A traverser,
Railler mes fantaisies

Mes éclats, irruptions
Torrents de mots
Jaillissant, tout en fureur
Joie folle ou béatitude

Tu es là, tu bois
Me prends
Comme je suis
Sans juger

Ou arrières pensées
Attentive à tout appelles
Jour ou nuit
Tu n’as jamais fui.

Impartial, toujours
A mes côtés
Par milles façon.
Ma feuille fidèle

Compagne de mon
Atlantis, sereine
A toute épreuves
Ou abus, de cette…

Page si méconnu.

Sometimes, life stands still – 1992


The path of life ©copyright2013owpp

The path of life
©copyright2013owpp

Sometimes, life stands still
—————————-

The day seems to stretch into eternity. So many to be or not to be…
We take each step, moment or second at a time, as it is thrown at us and worry about it only when it stares into our faces.
We plead for our closest to be safe from harm and whatever is hurled at them, should be the pleasantest.
Laughter be their empire, their course an easy process, their thoughts light and fluffy. That they should feel the love and wisdom of departed ones accompany them on their tack, their approach. Go till the end of their mission, the goals they set for themselves without interference of any kind.
We put our lives in the hands and heart of the universe ( or at least as much as we can accept to ) and trust even better, is on the horizon, ours to acquire, for being leased with the bounty of expression.
The allurement of nascence, the inception of our provenance…

Writing!

Fireworks 2010


Fireworks 2010 ©copyright2013owpp

Fireworks 2010
©copyright2013owpp

Hi everyone!
This painting, as you see, was mostly fun to do. There’s something expressive, intricate yet joyous and free in the works of Jackson Pollock, that’s what appeals to me. Its empowering technique.
What do you think of it?

Graffiti 2009


Graffiti 2009 ©copyright2013owpp

Graffiti 2009
©copyright2013owpp

Hi everyone!
This painting was a whole load of fun and I was quite pleased with its effect, It’s in acrylic paint
What do you think?

And there was silence! Fiat Silentium! 2010


Noisy family

Hello everyone!

First and foremost I’d like to thank you all for your support.
For a new blogger it’s very encouraging. I hope you’ll forgive occasional mistakes, as you can see, it’s still unfamiliar terrain.
I’d like today to give over to you an essay I wrote two years ago for an assignment.
There are some times in writing, when ones thoughts meet the pen with such easiness it takes you by surprise, but you know, the main reason
is, because it came straight from within, unto the paper. ( Keep in mind that my works are mostly fictional )
This is exactly what happened this time, I truly had pleasure creating it, enjoy!

And there was silence!
————————

Four forty five pm and I open my eyes with difficulty after a short nap which I seldom indulge into.

Five or ten minutes go by and I’m still struggling with the sensation of deep relaxation pulling me back into the fuzziness of slumber.
I was aware that something was unusual but I couldn’t define the exactitude of it’s source.
The impression of being in synchronization with the universe, was so overpowering, I allowed myself the luxury to absorb the uniqueness of the
moment however ephemeral it was to be.

The clock inevitably ticked by for another fifteen minutes,when it suddenly dawn unto me… THERE WAS SILENCE!

Now. If you would ever dare to adventure into our abode, you’d be quickly swept into the swirl of laughter, vociferous vocals, musical sounds being practiced
in the background, phones ringing, machines humming as a washer, dryer, ovens, friends visiting and we, seemingly comfortable with our noisy style of life.
Being accustomed to the frenzy we experience as a daily occurrence, you’d probably have the sensation of stepping into a cyclone or a hurricane, never to
come back again.
Which I would appreciate and infer that you come from quieter settings and upbringing.

We have amazing children ranging in the ages of teens to over twenties and we tried our best to educate them to feel and express themselves with no inhibitions.
To love and to live in it’s true sense. We sometimes enjoy indulging in vespertinal behavior but mainly, daily life quickly wins over.
I would fain admit that I’m the culprit of this boisterous lot.

Hence,my disorientation when silence tread-ed in unabated.
Having dragged myself out of my torpor, I became aware of the pulsating sounds of a world within my own, piercing my cocoon.
I could perceive the heartbeat of a vibrating town.
Cars and lorries, following the course of their traced paths… The echoes of someone dropping brusquely a metal object in their balcony…
How silence can be treacherous!
Primarily, I could cut through silence as I would a birthday cake.
It predominated and invaded the small space I found myself in. It was total and complete. Yet, as consciousness seeped in my pores, there was the recognition that,
quietude, always vibrates with sound.

It throbs and pulsates as the heart of a newborn.

Had you climbed the highest mountain, in the hope of escaping the hubbub of the so-called civilized world, you would still be encumbered by the winds resonating through the stillness,
if you wouldn’t be in the right mindset.

Silence, is noise. Forasmuch as, without it, this” testimony of life ” would’ve gone undetected.

And without the pandemonium of our big cities, we wouldn’t have encountered or experienced, fleeting moments of nirvana.

Silence is alive.

If it would be as absolute as we’d wish it to be, long would we be gone to a dimension, where sound is, but a distant memory ( If we have one! ) Where living in the present
is not a choice but a way of being.
Where we would have fallen astern in our appreciation of the cock-crow in a barnyard or, the wail of a capricious child. We would be, confronted to a world of unmitigated stillness.
Where the soul is wrapped up in clouds of spirituality. Where,regret doesn’t have a place. Or philosophy a name. Habits and thoughts are belated pilgrims. We’d be with the knowledge that we’d
been transients unto territories that FELT familiar and convinced we were affiliated to it’s structures.

Blessed be, the occasional forays of silent resemblances, or smothered din intruding our intended worldly peace.

After pondering on that thought, I nonetheless, savored and relished every parcel of blissful, imperfect tranquility given to me. But, not-withstanding, vowed to go out for a stroll in our
beautiful town and absorb every bit of sound surrounding me!

The dense traffic, the tramways screeching on the rails, the wailing sirens of an ambulances saving in extremis lives of it’s dwellers and even my portable, blaring a cacophonous tune, as a devilish choice of my dear children who had gone unanswered too many a time.
I did all that with gladness in my step and providence’s wink ( or nod of approval ) which I interpreted by the rays of sunshine coming out after a long and freezing winter.

We live on a main artery which leads to highways conducting to many countries. The contrast between the ethereal and peaceful experience I had just encountered in my Utopian Elysium, the bedlam
created by our civilization felt like an uproar and aggression to my eardrums. But the gilded heavenly rays of warmth temptingly invite and tease me into hazarding myself into the year 2010.
We have a beautiful park running alongside our boulevard which always makes the walk thither a treat we all look forward too.

At present, I walk along the border of the park, the sounds of birds chirping, merging, with those of today’s means of transportation and find myself enjoying the quality and best of the two worlds.
The beauty of ( nearly! ) untouched nature and the luxury of our highly developed environment.
The park ends, and I saunter further and see the facades of antique houses. I admire the beauty of it’s architecture. The carving of it’s stones polished and renovated today as a token of appreciation to a rich historical past.

I see, time, effort and amounts of money we could never fathom, invested, to make every inhabitant, proud and privileged to belong to this infrastructure.
I wander straight on, sensing gratitude engulf my entire being, finding myself guided toward a museum nearby which, only it’s frontage, is a pleasure to the eyes.From there, my steps lead me, to what I call ” my ” bookstore, my treasure-cave. Rows after rows, filled with books, all sizes, colors and ages. Allowing me to blot out the ” palpitations ” of our era and soak up the tidal-wave of passions for the beauty of words, shaped, molded, carved and chiseled painstakingly by writers who’s love for perfection, overcame the tribulations that accompanied such a profession.

Book shop

Calmness descended upon me and I picked up a book on John Keats works.

Movement and noises, faded in the background and I found myself enthralled and swirled into a precarious, distant past…

But as usual, life always wins over imagination and I felt impelled back to the forces of the current moment.
The hustle and bustle of the outdoors yanks me to the verisimilitude of today’s frenzy.
I squint at the unusually persistent glare of sunlight flooding the square and opt for an empty bench inviting me to ensconce and bask in the pleasure of my new purchase.

I permeate and infuse every second of this impromptu escapade, Which brings a flavor of voyage. A wish for celebration. As a furlough from a superior to his subordinate.Prompting him to the thrill and anticipation that comes with unforeseen festivities.

I then, trace back my trajectory as if drawn by a magnet towards the confine of my own element, my fount, my shield and shelter. In the hope of basking sometime, very soon, again, in a few gifted minutes of blissful, ecstatic… SILENCE!

Thank you for taking your time to read this!