1. |
departure
13:55
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departure
i leave behind this shattered body
and i could not understand yet how i would still be preserved
how central i was to my mother and how i will always be the center of her life
i was a young ghost with the mind of a child still shocked by the brutality of my own death sad because i felt alone
because i needed my mother
i had never quite gotten accustomed with the war zone
i always thought it was temporary even after many years
i was still waiting with hope for the small happy universe i grew up in to come back with my mother everything was possible
happiness and sadness
now, i did not know what to feel, what to think and where to go i was a scared little ghost with the thoughts of a 9-year-old child little did i know that i was never to be alone ever again
even with all the tears that she sheds for me
even after all the sorrow my memories brought back to her even with all the grievance that plagued her life
she took care of me as her most precious treasure never forgot i was deep inside her
much deeper than a fetus is in her mother’s womb she carried me her whole life a second time
even as she knew that i was not going to be born again
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2. |
harvest
07:46
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harvest
she moves around effortlessly
stretching her uterus
bending space around her
dislocating each particle
she now bears a new being
an emotional trace in herself
warping each moment into the fabric of her own suffering
she is working around the clock
raising her dough
unaware of the stimuli
her lips parted
revealing a cavern
absorbing all into it
accelerating everything
as gravity obeys and remembers her master
we plough for her deep straight arteries, obliged
worshipping our new prize
applying gentle pressure
the iron eternally dragging on
though the crevices can not help but merge
converge at the pit
leading the finger
where waters had once flowed
remains the traces of intimate strokes and embraces
engraved in the sediment
deepening, gaining strength
at every curbs and turn congregate, accentuated
helping the release
muted by the immensity of the task
we gaze
realizing the futility of our endeavor
astonished by the unforgettable landscape
whispering
we can not help but mutter to ourselves
this soil has been sown and we are the seeders
for the fruits of her sorrows
we will harvest
this land has been raped and we are the rapists
collecting water and preventing the flood
this crop has been engineered and we are the architects
growing strong and well nourished
but ready to be broken
now we must retreat in our palaces, a kingdom of suffering
trying to forget an entire empire built on shame
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3. |
plaine des jarres
10:40
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you can not see me you can not hear me
only when you walk only when you stand at the crossroad
you can not perceive you can not conceive
only when you stop only when you bend to reach the ground
we must continue – you can not proceed we must carry on – you must plant the seeds
pass on the secret to our children
bring me your jar filled up to the edges up on the plain
at the center of it all you will be disgraced on your on land
you will be forgotten by your own friends you will be betrayed
you must exhaust yourself to the task you know the path so well
a foot step leading to the next
up you go again
as newcomers gather
irresistibly attracted
they will recognize the ferrous smell Let by the plough
as they stand subjugated
you may tip the jar
to quench their thirst
with the blood of your daughters
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François Minaux Austin, Texas
François Minaux is a French singer, multi-instrumentalist, multi-disciplinary artist, lyricist and composer based in Austin,
Texas in the USA.
His music combines experimental, free improvisation and contemporary classical genres.
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