The Knife When he closed the door I am dicing onions down to the last fourth I do not put my knife down Just around the corner his face almost shaved off I try to put on a normal smile so he can remember the everyday in separation I turn back continue dicing downplaying the knife at separation Our son is too young to know even at knifepoint how to be an actor He takes a handful of onions stuffs it into his mouth not giving another look to the ones on the ground I envy him never having to set aside the everyday to glance at his father’s fading silhouette in sharp relief Encounter: Traversing Route 25 in New Mexico The hand of the sunset lifts the veil of trees with its dying embers my face burns.
I dare not move for fear its words are in the wrong place it no longer trusts that someone has faith for eternity to penetrate her skin where another being can kiss it tenderly with his mouth. Hints A chair locks a door from outside hinting at expecting, or parting? Sunlight comes meandering sits steadily on the chair avoids sitting too down easily pushes the door open releases the dark night What is difficult to imagine is not emptiness but fullness the story of abandonment A home is like a road with no emotions you fall yourself they still stand erect Thus that very night you cast off your own shell nakedly walking out of the house using a chair to lock yourself from outside avoid entering a house of hints
Angel On the ruined road you won’t see an angel unhurriedly preening his wings on the ruined road the angel loses his wings because there is no such place that fits a frivolous reason for flying The angel walks barefoot unintentionally detours round the fragments on the ground nail-exposed wooden boards he focuses all of his perception to overlook overlook the place where his feet can never reach where there are fragments as well on the surface of things which sunlight sheds mercy on He has no doubt about the fragmented life he doubts the surface where is the sufficient space for sunlight? whether there is also a ruined road at the place that can never be reached on the road that angel just like him overlooks the life that he had before
The nest
Shady
If the storks fly too in the spring One died on a friday Like death is a thing Who doesn’t take you in full This stork had it’s wings swaying in the void And the rest of the body was hanging from the nest I felt sorry for her And went back on my way among people I walked and saw horses I heard people trying to call the horses With a laugh At that moment, death rolled down my ribs To lodge in my heart As if it were a shameful thing And I went home alone
Je pleure encore Shady qui est mort Qui étais-tu, quand il gisait ? Toi, l’horloge triste, où étais-tu ? Toi qui réveilles l’obscurité dans nos Je ne connais pas sa mère et je ne reco Autour de son cœur froid, elles ne po Ni trouver un asile à la peine avant lo Pleurez comme je pleure aussi
To the little death To see you Make love to another body Torture sought Lay me down wisely At the end of the dispossession Simply By a vow of freedom
Je pleure encore Shady car il est mort Réveillez-vous et pleurez Frappé par l’envieuse colère d’un hom Il a sombré dans l’éclat des yeux noir Nous, encore en vie, nous marchons s De sa présence au monde À cette prison où la mort est reine Il arriva avec l’espoir ultime de libéra Il ne savait pas qu’il allait brûler avan La dictature a emporté la promesse d
To see you In this other body And then dream Almost obsessed Out of the abyss Emancipatory flesh
Je pleure encore Shady qui est mort Il ne se réveillera jamais Ange dépossédé d’une justice des hom Évanoui comme une goutte d’eau d’u Sa bouche de laquelle sortait un souffl Un souffle fort pour percer d’amour l Qui avaient gouté à sa forme, à sa tei Et à ses idées des éclairs d’images et d La mort humide Elle a tout éteint
To see you Moving me from This other body Bend over to stay alive ‘Till our little deaths And the morning coffee croissant
Pleurez encore Shady avec vos cheveu mauvaise Remplie des larmes qui inondent le f D’où venons-nous ? Sommes-nous de sa mort ?
Qui a pu verser dans la coupe d’une jeune vie un poison carcéral sans être puni pour son crime ? Le serpent a pu fuir avec ses mains froides et une guitare cœurs sans cordes onnais pas ses sœurs Shady n’a pas fui ourront reprendre force Et pourtant il est parti ongtemps Bien plus loin que nous Que nos arts luttent en désarmant Les lézards trop gros t Ma tristesse s’écoute comme un chant d’oiseau Sous l’orage mme-Dieu Dans la faible lumière d’un phare et l’obscurité de l’autre rs rivage sur les pâles fleurs Il importe seulement de ne pas l’oublier
ation nt d’éclore de sa vie
mmes en ruines un océan évaporé ffle d’habitude les amis inte, à son odeur de musiques
ux défaits et l’haleine
fond de la gorge e simples spectateurs de
Erik Malm (Sweden) Irina Novikova Hernando Urrutia (Portugal) Lou Gottlieb (France) Marion Deborah yossr Ben Messaoud Fashiongore (Bulgaria) Lucy and Menna Riahy (tunisia) Mehdi Karoui (tunisia) Rim Bouras (tunisia) Mr.Krmsaad (Indonesia) Yee Ling Tang (Netherlands) Yu-Hsuan Wu (Taiwan) Frederick Epistola (Philippines) Anna Vereshchaka (Ukraine) Elena Sholokhova (Russia) Artem Gumilevsky (Ukraine) Firas Gharbi (tunisia) Radka Hrabovska (Slovakia) Nina Scceletton (Reunion Island) Angela Galvan (Italy) Konstantina Thanasouli (Greece) Jernej Šimec (Slovenia) Bengisu Uykusu (Turkey) Laimdota Malle (Latvia) GRIMOIRE TEAM Yasser Jeridi \ Bochra Taboubi \ Ousema Gaidi