by pensum | Sep 6, 2011 | Pierre Reverdy, Poems
I can no longer see anything in the sky but a large white dog devouring the moon. This dog is not a cloud. If it doesn’t belong to anyone it will leave. And day will return. But what if this dog belongs to that man who leans on the mountain in order to watch and mock...
by pensum | Aug 13, 2011 | Bloc-notes et Agenda
Poetry is in everything, everywhere, say those who, basically, are incapable of identifying where it actually is. But it is perfectly obvious that it is instead an absence, a lack in the human heart or more precisely what the poet has the gift of putting in place of...
by pensum | Aug 12, 2011 | En Vrac
He is in good enough health to ponder death with serenity.
by pensum | Aug 10, 2011 | En Vrac
To be simple is not so simple.
by pensum | Jul 10, 2011 | Cette Émotion Appelée Poésie
Neither “lie” nor “truth” is the proper term to define Art or Poetry. Fiction is not a lie. Though it is not a true story, a fable is a true fable. Truth is not dependent upon reality. Reality however is always true, but the lie often trumps it. No one has ever been...
by pensum | Jul 5, 2011 | Prose
Among those things that are considered worthless and useless, poetry is quite certainly one of the most impressive. How explain that it is the very seam that man dreams of mining during the first stirrings of his impetuous youth? While on the other hand how...
