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The Clean slate- Prose- May 1993- Readjusted on January 2013


Giverny 2011 ©copyright2013owpp

Giverny 2011
©copyright2013owpp

Clean slate
————

He turns
In despair
Facing the sky
Not knowing why

Asking for,
Intelligence
To read
The signals

Take care
Rest his soul
Abandon
The fear

Control
The changes
The unknown
Till where

How far
It will go
Understand
The wandering

Misunderstand
What appears
To be evil
Lose harshness

To the abyss
Love with
His heart
Not blabber

Tell them, listen
Validate
His own.
Erasing

Invalidity
Wanting
The energy
Long forgotten

Sucked
In a porthole.
Concentrate
On the finer

Larger, fitter
Worthier.
Feeling
Those moments

Those things
That come back
As delicate
As a blow

Of the wind
On his face.
The shivers
Along his spine

The burning
A clean slate.
Consigned
To oblivion

Dismissed
From his mind
A loss of
Consciousness

Obliterated
From his percipience.
Time, the father
Of wisdom

He lets it
Run its course.
Normalcy
His lease.

Prayer in his heart
Straight to the
First pages
Of his book

Of patience
Toward his life.
Need him
Need them

Family, friends
Children encompassing
Their love, his love.
Circumvent

The laws, accepting…

Nature

My untamed thoughts 2008 ( Translation of poem below ” Mes pensées insoumises ” )


deep in the night... ©copyright2013owpp

deep in the night…
©copyright2013owpp

My untamed thoughts
———————

Deep in the night
On your page I write
My most burrowed thoughts
In a sometimes sluggish mind

A ponderous silence
Or a restful one
Conveying
Through my quill pen
Scratching the haze
Of my life in dunes
Of valleys and vertices
Of stormy sands

It is deep in the night
That on your page I smile
Of my wandering mind
By my untamed thoughts.

Mes pensées insoumises 2008 ( French poetry translated above as “my untamed thoughts” )


deep in the night... ©copyright2013owpp

deep in the night…
©copyright2013owpp

Mes pensées insoumises
————————

Au fin fond de la nuit
C’est sur ta page que j’écris
Mes pensées les plus enfouies
Dans un esprit parfois endormi

Un silence pesant,
Ou, reposant
Se traduisant
A travers ma plûme
Qui gratte la brûme
De ma vie en dûnes
De vallées et de sommets
De sables mouvementés

C’est au fin fond de la nuit
Que sur ta page je souris
De mon esprit étourdi
Par mes pensées insoumises.