SIX POEMS
http://www.maverickmagazine.com/articles/156/1/SIX-POEMS/Page1.html
Jean-Philippe Cazier
By Jean-Philippe Cazier
Published on 05/3/2002
to speak is impossible
when the words come articulated through a dead mouth
mouth of air that speaks in whispers
skull opened by streams of another world, skull of water that
looks at the
sea and dead speaks: its dead voice observes what's around
when the words come articulated through a dead mouth
mouth of air that speaks in whispers
skull opened by streams of another world, skull of water that
looks at the
sea and dead speaks: its dead voice observes what's around
For Yvette Cazier, 1911-2001
to speak is impossible
when the words come articulated through a dead mouth
mouth of air that speaks in whispers
skull opened by streams of another world, skull of water that
looks at the
sea and dead speaks: its dead voice observes what's around
(to dream is to go, to disappear at the bottom of a dead sea
to speak is to enter the silent order of air, dispersed in air where no one begins nor arrives
open doors, rooms of airs
where words are clouded by death, where words are dispersed at
the bottom of seas
in dreams, in sands, in winds &
***
one's power of death is the voice
not its first voice, but that of another
speaking across the desert: face, whiteness
a paleness of the mouth
the power of the voice is death, speech
white and shadowless
and it is this certain white
when the voice tries to say death
***
they speak of what is called sun, sun
or air
or a shadow land
words, in the air
voices
words from the sky
innumerable voices
murmur a desert
whispers the horizon
whispers the ground
sea
sea and island and sea and horizon &
it is the power of deserts, where death
across the world
in an empty universe
speaking a desert
***
to write a world
a book, movement from the distance, toward the distance
a book in which the words are unrecognizable &
to say world or sun, the distance
speaking the book
to write it in the distance
undone book, distant from itself, in the distance of the universe
its dangers traverse writing, extracting shapes, traces or mouths
from where writing seeps
***
rain is a sign
rain
a language
near to those who speak
but no one speaks
its words, become
night
night
rain
downpour on a destroyed garden
nocturnal banks of an empty world
rain:
forest of a story where
that which is written, destroyed text
a fragmented text
too quick to be read
***
the book of the world is a dead land
the end of the book, a smoke
who died today?
before being annihilated
hundreds of heads turned toward the sun
the world is no longer life
heads are shadows
Translated by Jean-Philippe Cazier and Caryn Connelly.
Copyright © Jean-Philippe Cazier, 2002. All Rights Reserved.
to speak is impossible
when the words come articulated through a dead mouth
mouth of air that speaks in whispers
skull opened by streams of another world, skull of water that
looks at the
sea and dead speaks: its dead voice observes what's around
(to dream is to go, to disappear at the bottom of a dead sea
to speak is to enter the silent order of air, dispersed in air where no one begins nor arrives
open doors, rooms of airs
where words are clouded by death, where words are dispersed at
the bottom of seas
in dreams, in sands, in winds &
***
one's power of death is the voice
not its first voice, but that of another
speaking across the desert: face, whiteness
a paleness of the mouth
the power of the voice is death, speech
white and shadowless
and it is this certain white
when the voice tries to say death
***
they speak of what is called sun, sun
or air
or a shadow land
words, in the air
voices
words from the sky
innumerable voices
murmur a desert
whispers the horizon
whispers the ground
sea
sea and island and sea and horizon &
it is the power of deserts, where death
across the world
in an empty universe
speaking a desert
***
to write a world
a book, movement from the distance, toward the distance
a book in which the words are unrecognizable &
to say world or sun, the distance
speaking the book
to write it in the distance
undone book, distant from itself, in the distance of the universe
its dangers traverse writing, extracting shapes, traces or mouths
from where writing seeps
***
rain is a sign
rain
a language
near to those who speak
but no one speaks
its words, become
night
night
rain
downpour on a destroyed garden
nocturnal banks of an empty world
rain:
forest of a story where
that which is written, destroyed text
a fragmented text
too quick to be read
***
the book of the world is a dead land
the end of the book, a smoke
who died today?
before being annihilated
hundreds of heads turned toward the sun
the world is no longer life
heads are shadows
Translated by Jean-Philippe Cazier and Caryn Connelly.
Copyright © Jean-Philippe Cazier, 2002. All Rights Reserved.