now you are looking at some traces
one cannot erase from my soul
the image of a shrub growing
out of a black rocky stone in the world of minerals
a sign of obscure powers
in the time
invented by humans
to control its births and its deaths
with multiple numbers
I am in a little case
like a treasure
still alive
joyfully screwed up
by the dynamism
even eager to shine
I am lacking of… surprise
of surrender
in the fourth dimension
of a body’s inversion
of all my dreams
of energy
in symmetrical compositions
of my animal in motion
now
materially inert
I seek asylum between the lines
in an ersatz home
I went out into the woods
yesterday
and there
I am hidden among the roots of a tree
to shout
to let out my suffering in a shelter
to amplify my phrases
and recite them
my antique seeds
to an imaginary winged she-listener
a short story of a night watch
of a novelist and his double
sprung out of the darkness
offering the keys to his double estate
of two dark and dusty corners
to exercise the freshness
of a ghost movie theatre
of the memory
with its unreal waves absorbing God’s space
here is
the crystallised echo of my wake
an interaction in my body
between fragments
of my present time
defined by a thought that crosses them
in an uprising of an organic fluid
covered with body tissue
a wooded blanket
compost food
for the one who spat us out of her belly
into the world
the earth
to speak
of the invisible to the eye
is it just a dream
I don’t know…
it might be the consequence of the war
going on among multi-coloured
particles inside me
I was spat out of the earth
out of this black and brown
like a simple element
sieved out in a research laboratory
in the fluid space-time
Piotr Osuszkiewicz
..
In The Garden of Enghien
Uploaded by Piotrosu
un jour tu m’as dit
une et une seule fois
quand on se rencontrera
le monde changera
et je me suis jeté
dans le tourbillon des recherches
et je t’ai trouvée
toi une femme du sud
souriante
du nord
un vent froid
qui répand ses rides
de l’est
des yeux d’azur
les nuages et les cheveux déteints
de l’ouest
de l’obscurité
les joues pâles
une pensée en or
est passée près de moi
un parfum de magnolia
j’ai pris une photo de toi
des fragments de réalité
rassemblés par le regard d’un homme
Toi
tu as laissé une flamme
sur mes lèvres
une trace de rouge à lèvre étendu
un parfum de pomme
ta grâce infinie
m’entraîne en hauteur
dis-je avec émoi
et je croquai une pomme
pour la deuxième fois
sur les photos de Piotr Osuszkiewicz spectacle "Mute" par GRAZ&Co de Graziella Boggiano