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"madeleines" poems
Les nèfles de Kabylie Il est des souvenirs d’enfance qui dominent longtemps l’esprit et ont des goûts de saveurs douces telles les madeleines de Proust. Pour moi qui suis né à Bougie Ce sont les nèfles de Kabylie. C’était en mai soit en juin que ces fruits blonds arrivaient sur la table de formica dans des couffins tressés de paille, comme le signe d’un printemps qui bientôt deviendrait fournaise mais vibrionnant de Soleil. Il fallait enlever la peau et en séparer les noyaux qui me faisaient penser à des billes Mais leur chair était succulente avec des zestes de vanille. et de bonbons acidulés. J’avais huit ans, c’était la guerre ! Mais quand les nèfles arrivaient, j’oubliais les soucis des «grands» pour goûter à la chair des nèfles, jouer aux billes avec leurs noyaux. C’est ainsi que parmi les drames, le regard de l’enfance est lointain. Car la mort leur reste chimère. bien moins réelle que les jeux et les fruits dorés, bref privilège de l’enfance. Paul d’Aubin (Paul Arrighi) Toulouse- février 2014.
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Feb 22, 2014
Feb 22, 2014 at 4:59 PM UTC
Les nèfles de Kabylie ( The war and the boy )
the way the sunlight comes in through the kitchen window is my favorite shade of yellow i saw it when mémé sat me in her sink and we ate raspberries i shoved them on the tips of my fingers and stained them red for a week i could catch the yellow in my hand i saw it when mémé shook her head because tes madeleines sont pas assez cuit and i rolled my eyes and assured her i was not going to be a housewife anyway i could feel it warm my arm i saw it when mémé giggled as she snuck me a bottle of wine i cut my hand trying to open it and hid it in a shoebox under my bed i could feel the glimmer on my cheek i saw it when mémé cried as she held my chin in her hand she said being fearless and daring are a bad mix and it also runs in the family and i could feel the rays reach across my collar i see it when i think of mémé i am no housewife i struggle open a bottle of wine and i have a bad mix of hereditary characteristics mes madeleines sont toujours pas assez cuit i can catch the yellow in my hand
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May 3, 2017
May 3, 2017 at 12:18 PM UTC
mémé and the way the sunlight comes in through the kitchen window
i've become old... i can tell by 1) the seasons, growing shorter trees these days seem to be in such a hurry to shake their leaves off 2) the growing number of people that are gone by the time you come back with tea and madeleines ... wherever the days went that's where they took my friends, too they've all gone in search for Bigger & Better (although i can't imagine what could be Better than my tea)   they've all gone in light of promises "she promised to live with me..." "i promised myself that one day..." "the future is promising..." "more promising than here..." me, i stopped believing in these promises last Sunday when i overheard the neighborhood tarot sobbing in the Confession booth: "Father, that's when I realized that the only promise in this world is the present" ... i find promise in smaller promises, such as 1) a good chance of rain this afternoon 2) your alarm has been set to 7 AM 3) see you tomorrow ... people don't remember what they ate for breakfast, while they remember the life they have yet to live and so i stopped remembering ... i only hope that when tomorrow comes the view outside my window will not change and what that view means to me will not change, as well the city will still light up all the night with its strange fire and the people will still be in love with powerwalking ... in truth i live in this state of constant fear: when i turn away, the city will cease (like dream machines) if i blink too hard, this all might just become a line from some book i think i read sometime in grade school (which name i can't recall) if i were to move away would it all wait for me? do i really love this? or am i just afraid of losing it? and while i wonder, i don't dare take my eyes off of the view outside my window ... you say that life is loving and leaving again and again, then i'm not interested in life what's so beautiful about broken hearts? ... if happiness for me is 2nd paragraph on page 149, let me be an inkblot in time, forever still
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Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 2:42 AM UTC
uncle's words
i've become old... i can tell by 1) the seasons, growing shorter trees these days seem to be in such a hurry to shake their leaves off 2) the growing number of people that are gone by the time you come back with tea and madeleines ... wherever the days went that's where they took my friends, too they've all gone in search for Bigger & Better (although i can't imagine what could be Better than my tea)   they've all gone in light of promises "she promised to live with me..." "i promised myself that one day..." "the future is promising..." "more promising than here..." me, i stopped believing in these promises last Sunday when i overheard the neighborhood tarot sobbing in the Confession booth: "Father, that's when I realized that the only promise in this world is the present" ... i find promise in smaller promises, such as 1) a good chance of rain this afternoon 2) your alarm has been set to 7 AM 3) see you tomorrow ... people don't remember what they ate for breakfast, while they remember the life they have yet to live and so i stopped remembering ... i only hope that when tomorrow comes the view outside my window will not change and what that view means to me will not change, as well the city will still light up all the night with its strange fire and the people will still be in love with powerwalking ... in truth i live in this state of constant fear: when i turn away, the city will cease (like dream machines) if i blink too hard, this all might just become a line from some book i think i read sometime in grade school (which name i can't recall) if i were to move away would it all wait for me? do i really love this? or am i just afraid of losing it? and while i wonder, i don't dare take my eyes off of the view outside my window ... you say that life is loving and leaving again and again, then i'm not interested in life what's so beautiful about broken hearts? ... if happiness for me is 2nd paragraph on page 149, let me be an inkblot in time, forever still
Continue reading...
75
If she could have got inside her head, Nadya thinks, she is sure, her mind can expand like an inner universe. The thoughts moving around like lost planets, clusters of stars, images, words, faces, actions remembered. If she could just put her hand into a hidden orifice and reach into her brain and sort amongst the galaxies of ideas she could be brighter, braver, wiser, and there clinging to certain ideas associations like Proust’s madeleines would be old loves, broken heart moments, melodies from favourite songs. Josef has told her to leave off the ***** to put away the bottles, drink water, tea or whatever. But he does not satisfy. His love making is a joke, all push and poke. Sometimes she thinks her thoughts come out of her head and dance. Time for another drink. She thinks of Paris. Summers past, spring walks. Josef’s endless chatter breaks in; those all too intellectual boring talks. She imagines him as another, pretends some young Russian overeager tends to her, embraces her body, kisses each inch of her flesh, pleasure giving. No more of this boring life, more of that wild, touching the new, exploring *** living.
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Jul 21, 2012
Jul 21, 2012 at 4:22 AM UTC
NADYA IMAGINES.
Looking for your Green Card Mayhap Mayhem Don't lose it now... But you're the kindaguy One finds (with) A tiny piece a recipe Folded up in his wallet For Madeleines Sugar Butter Cookies While in the islands Alone among the ties Bind me then By invisibility To now then: some kinda Some Offworld alien celebrity From some far off Land Made of money Pots of honey gold Over there Out there The other side of the rainbow A milk box Para'Illusion Half delusion Unaware Don't lose it now That pink card "Permanent alien resident" With A Madeleines Cookies recipe In your wallet's Back pocket Mayhap maybe It should be easy To make.
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Jun 20, 2017
Jun 20, 2017 at 3:27 AM UTC
Madeleines