#corps
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A community gathers:
deadened words like scattered bones,
gather for a redressing,
then
tendons, flesh, and skin cover the
the alpha-betical random disbursed
skeletal bones
and yet
they are lifeless!
white, dried out,
crumbles of nicks & notches jumbled upon a table.
white bones dead upon a white table cloth
and the question
unspoken,
is spoke:
**Sons of man, Daughters of woman:
can these word lettered bones yet-live?**
and then,
the breath of life,
from a collective of now-realized memes,
disguised names tossed aside,
human faces & one voice rising,
a gentle, paced coalescing
into a literal singular
L'esprit du corps
infecting
these lettered collections
with fire and water into breathing living things,
human voices ringing,
inflecting
the words
with a subtle million colored shaded meanings,
and many gathered together
speak, greet, an empowered crescendo,
a ram’s horn (a shofar)
bugles the assembly
to attention
with a sole and soulful command!
write! share!
p.s.
i am their(s)
in spirit
<~>
The "Valley of Dry Bones" is a famous prophetic vision found in Ezekiel 37 of the Old Testament. God transports the prophet Ezekiel to a valley full of scattered, dead bones and asks him,
"Son of man, can these bones live?"
Ezekiel watches as a miraculous transformation occurs:
Bone to bone: The bones rattle and connect into full skeletons.
Flesh and breath: Tendons, flesh, and skin cover the skeletons, but they remain lifeless.
The Breath of Life:
At God's command, the "breath" (or Spirit) enters them, and they come alive, standing up as a vast army
<~>
共同体の集い:
散らばった骨のように、言葉たちは死し、
それらを修復し、整えるために人々は集う。
すると――
腱(けん)、肉、そして皮膚が、
アルファベットの順序も定かではなく、無作為に散らばっていた
あの骨格たちを覆い尽くす。
……それなのに、
彼らは未だ、命なきままだ!
白く、乾ききって、
傷や刻み目の欠片(かけら)が、テーブルの上に雑然と積み重なっているだけ。
白いテーブルクロスの上で、白い骨たちが死して横たわる。
そして、ある問いが――
口にされずとも、
確かに発せられる:
**人の子らよ、女の子らよ――
この文字で綴られた骨たちは、再び生き返ることができるのか?**
その時――
「生命の息吹」が吹き込まれる。
今やその本質を自覚した「ミーム(概念)」の集合体から、
偽りの名や仮面は投げ捨てられ、
人としての顔立ちが露わになり、一つの声が立ち昇る。
穏やかで、確かな歩調で、それらは融合し――
文字通り、一つの「個」へと統合されてゆく。
『L'esprit du corps(集団の精神)』
それは、
文字の羅列に過ぎなかったこれらを集積体を、
火と水をもって「感染」させ――
呼吸し、躍動する「生きた存在」へと変容させる。
人々の声が響き渡り、
言葉の一つひとつに、
幾百万もの色彩を帯びた、繊細な意味の陰影を「吹き込む」。
そして、集いし多くの人々が
語り合い、挨拶を交わし、力強いクレッシェンド(高まり)を奏でる。
羊の角笛(ショファール)が鳴り響き、
集会の人々を「注目」へと招集する――
ただ一つ、魂を揺さぶる号令と共に!
書け! 分かち合え!
追伸:
私の魂もまた、
彼らと共に在る。
<~>
「枯れ骨の谷」は、旧約聖書『エゼキエル書』第37章に記された、有名な預言の幻視です。神は預言者エゼキエルを、散らばった死せる骨で埋め尽くされた谷へと導き、彼に問いかけます。
「人の子よ、これらの骨は生き返ることができるか?」
エゼキエルが見守る中、奇跡的な変容が起こります。
骨と骨の結合:骨々が音を立てて組み合わさり、完全な骨格へと形作られてゆきます。
肉と息吹:腱、肉、そして皮膚が骨格を覆いますが、それらは未だ命なきままです。
生命の息吹:
神の命令により、「息吹」(あるいは「霊」)が彼らの内に入り込みます。すると彼らは生き返り、立ち上がり、巨大な軍勢となってそこに現れるのです。
** Kyōdōtai no tsudoi:** Chirabatta hone no yō ni, kotoba-tachi wa shishi, sorera o shūfuku shi, totonoeru tame ni hitobito wa tsudou. Suruto ―― ken (ken), niku, soshite hifu ga, arufabetto no junjo mo
May 23
May 23, 2026 at 4:16 PM UTC
Les frontières de mon corps
Ne sont pas placées au bon endroit
Elles sont dans un pays
Où je n'accède pas
Mes souvenirs sont à l'ouest
Ma raison fait cap au sud
Le vent n'a pas de prise
Et lisse les aspérités de ma peau
Mes doigts pointent sans direction
Mes membres fractionnés
Sur un terrain morcelé
Des fissures sur une terre aride
Où rien ne peut pousser
Tel un roi apatride
Parcelle par parcelle
Bataille après bataille
Je suis le souverain banni
Qui tente de reconquérir son pays
M'approprier ce qui me revient
Enfin planter mon drapeau
Devenir un habitant de ma peau.
Dec 2, 2025
Dec 2, 2025 at 5:53 PM UTC
We went we saw.
We fought we died.
Some came home.
But changed for life.
From beating hearts within our chest.
And terrors that haunt us to our death.
Were broke were beaten.
Bullied and scared.
We stand together.
From lands afar.
My cover hits the ground my boots in the sand.
A brand new day in a brand new land.
Oct 9, 2017
Oct 9, 2017 at 10:51 PM UTC
*I got to say these things that were eating away at my soul like the birds,
Birds that happen to look a whole lot like crows,
who only ever go after the dead decaying prays,
because when it's dead, it's easiest to ****** away.
But I spoke line after line like the little white lines that lie in long lines,
on the highways where the dead bodies have been laid out to dry,
I was not going to give into your games let alone cry,
but if I must shed some tears to tell all the fears you have put on me,
then my eye will bleed red,
and never dry out,*
**And for me to pour my heart out onto you,
is as evil as the crow you are,
while you plot where you're going to pick me apart first when I finish,
but like the crows and the dead carcase I am,
we all have rights,
but like the bandages that can't stick around to fix my wounds,**
*im sorry,
A thing I've been more often than sometimes,
so its hard to fill in the bubbles of how someone hurts,*
**when the scales seem to add up in the favor of the other hand.
But that still gives me no right to act and do the things you do,
and play dress up in rooten old skin,**
*like you have set the example for me,
to lie to those who stared death in the face and went on as before,
but before they were nothing and after there still wasn't something,*
**and you checked the boxes under the bubbles.
securing they would be fine.
when in reality they were fine like you said,**
*if you compared their mental status to that of yours.
who let someone roam around like a dead corps.*
as the crows above circled and waited,
*mocking,
taunting,*
**waiting for the innocence of an infant to mess up.
so they could finally strike.**
*I get it's only human nature,
Just like the circle of life,*
**But why do people have to keep neglecting children,
until those vultures finally strike.**
Jul 20, 2015
Jul 20, 2015 at 2:52 PM UTC