La T'nemele

La liseuse à la fenêtre, Jan Vermeer v. 1659. Staatliche Kunstsammlungen, Gemäldegalerie, Germany

Pour une femme à qui la vie a tout pris, le peu de temps que je passais avec lui était un petit miracle. Je voulu le lui dire, et bien d'autres choses encore, mais quand enfin je trouvai le courage de lui dire, je perdis la voix.

On parlait peu au final, lui et moi. Cette sécheresse dans la voix, qui se perdent sous des lignes torturées.

Il soupire. Une fois. Deux fois. Ça fait mal, un tréfonds qui remue! Mais ça va plus loin encore:

Sans lui je recule et regresse. Les nuits sont longues. Me laisse sans souffle.

Je n’en dirai pas plus. J’en ai déjà beaucoup trop dit.

Les choses qui ont la plus grande significance pour nous sont souvent les plus difficiles a exprimer. Elles restent dans les endroits les plus sombres et secrets de nos coeurs. Nous esperons qu'un jour quelqu'un sera assez comprehensif pour ecouter - et nous liberer.

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On the Road

Pacific Coast Highway, San Francisco, CA

Driving fast at sundown, past lights and brush with the windows rolled down. I don't feel the dry swelter of summer -- the air is cool and clear. Sometimes I get so high I feel almost drunk.

It's nights like these where I want to drive to that lonely hillside on the edge of town, climb over the wire fence, go up the steepest incline and scream and dance just because I'm so damn happy and all is right with the world.


On nights like these you wouldn't recognize me because I'm not myself.
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Looking for Kanyakumari

Cape Comorin, Tamil Nadu, India

It's an odd country, America. Everyone (here) seems so lonely. Including me.


I did my best, it wasn't much, I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch...

( ...there was discovery, a confusion of elements, a first snowfall of impossible change. Old lives undone, left behind, strange faces made familiar, new nightmares to challenge sleep... )

Baby I've been here before, I know this room, I walked this floor...

When a change comes, some species feel the urge to migrate. They call it zugunruhe. A pull of the soul to a far-off place. Following a scent in the wind, a star in the sky. The ancient message comes...

Remember when I moved in you, the holy dove was moving too...

The earth is large. Large enough that you think you can hide from anything. From fate. From God. If only you found a place far enough away. To the edge of the earth...quiet and warm. The solace of salt air...

It's not a cry that you hear at night, it's not somebody who has seen the light...

( You can run far, you can take your small precautions, but have you really gotten away? Or is the truth that you do not have the strength or cunning to hide from destiny? But the world is not small, you are... and fate can find you anywhere )

It doesn't matter which you heard : the holy or the broken hallelujah...

( At the Cape of the seas triune, roaring and rolling briny miles along, dawn's orb reddens in throes of rising urge, and drowns (my) soul in flaming rose of trance, call it legendary time or what you will: Kanyakumari... * )





I am indebted to the eloquence of M. Suresh and the chord progression of L. Cohen

* "From an ample ether" by G. Viswanathan
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