"I meditated for months every day. The exercise I did was to sit for 20 to 30 minutes and focus only on the breath. Thoughts-Thoughts-Breath. Through this, I became aware of thoughts throughout the day."
PS: those are frenhc poems translated in english, the melody is not the same therefor
Time
Time is no more.
It has never been.
Even the feeling of variable time
The one we talk about most often,
At no time,
Leaves no one indifferent.
Head
My head is pounding...
That's strange...
I had forgotten it
My head
These symptoms are not unknown to me.
As if paralyzed by the
Continuous flow.
I try to distract myself
From this precarious mental situation.
My complicit stomach
Addresses me its accomplices.
Love (everything is love but a title is practical)
Sitting on his chair
With a relaxed air,
The misty eyes
And a smile on his face.
Uncomplicated vision,
Seeing altered.
He has not yet exposed
The extent of goodness/beauty.
Sore brain
I decide to refresh myself.
A wandering soul I meet.
Merging to the sound
Of the law of attraction.
When all seemed lost,
That hope said goodbye to me,
I began to brood.
Then in an instant,
The present seemed infinitely great.
Eyes I met,
Here to confirm,
What I was feeling.
There was nothing left to do but to let go
In this universe of wonders
As if everything was taking shape
To my will.
He called out to me
With a puzzled look
Questioning the essence of my presence
Am I really from here, he said?
They became one
To provide for
For the needs of each one.
Society
My parents pay for TV
My parents pay for movies
And the commercials are always there
It's never-ending
It clutters my future
With spending thoughts
Like a mop
Necessary
To clean my mind
Of all its rotten sales.
-Modern distractions.
Welcome to my world
All that I cannot see
I can't believe.
Is this our career choice
The translation of our mission?
Where no matter what I choose
I'm guaranteed fulfillment?
Whoa! New perceptions, guys!
Hope
Will against all and for all.
Like love
I rush headlong
Full of conviction.
Rationality is no more.
I am safe.
Full of regrets.
I thought
The society created to my disadvantage.
As narrowed
In what I thought
To be
A bad spell.
-Revelation-
I am a link
Categorically
Rebellion,
Of the greatest exception.
I come with my vision.
Something to make you shudder.
Everything I perceive
Seeks to transform me
Into a flogging being.
Until I understand
I understand
How
I was fooled.
The player is me.
The game is on.
All I have to do now
to face
The world of possibilities.
Given that
That tomorrow
I will die.
.done.
-Game on-
Thoughts
May the time of fears evaporate
And give way,
To the one known,
To be the most eccentric.
Courage! Rage!
I clothed myself with it as a prerogative
With my belly full of butterflies
And I exclaim,
Full of spittle
To the recalcitrant audience.
I want them to be attractive.
Anxious to be present.
The saving energy
Rises and falls
To no end.
A veil covers my eyes.
I revel in this new
Horizon.
Perceptions.
Perfection no longer exists,
Or at least,
It is, now,
embodied.
Age is like a privilege
A sign of shipwreck.
One hides there as under a camouflage.
When we wait
Our body relaxes,
While waiting,
Your mind
Is obvious.
The cold tenses my whole being.
Our thoughts knead each other
Until
Some of them
Malice to their liking
Obsess my mind
Forming thus
More than a bubble
In which I scream.
My stomach is tight,
My thoughts are cluttered
I forget to breathe.
When the thirst takes you
The phenomenon spreads
Until it reaches your nostrils
To slip to your lips
As dry as the desert
Not to say as in hell.
A palette of essence is then born.
Sometimes I close my eyes
To close my eyes with fear.
In Salvation
There are as many tensions
As unresolved emotions.
My taste buds delight
To the taste of these fruits.
I look at the foam
Red and full of bubbles.
-Hypnotized.
In the moments
When everything is in question
A glimmer of hope
Appears.
-Deep sigh.
The belly cut in two.
Splash
(stress)
The plane passes
Over
Over your nose
The world
Has not stopped
To turn.
I had forgotten,
How wrong we can be
To discuss our thoughts.
Their perception and level of awareness
Varies so much
That one could be mistaken
To think they match.
It is a question of continually questioning
The meaning that each one grants them.
In order to develop
A sharpened communication.
Nourished with truths.
Sometimes I feel overwhelmed.
As if engulfed
By my own thoughts.
Cultivating my fears
With ardor.
I must accept the nothingness, the nothingness.
I know nothing
And everything is fine.
-Construction-
I thought
That the words
Were there
To support me.
It turns out
That it's more complicated.
In search of comfort,
For normalcy.
I am now
Confused.
Do I need to put words to who I am?
Without them, is it possible for me to grow?
So I was thinking.
Should I accept myself as I am
Without trying to evolve?
My construction is however not determined.
How is it that
That in moments of bliss
The words have no more their habits?
Must I tend towards this attitude?
-Storm-
Plic, Plouc, Plic
Patatraque
Deaf ears.
All my attention
Is at the front.
Boom Braah Prwoudoudou
I become animated and envenomed
Hide yourself
The mist smokes.
Between tears and torpor.
In moments of doubt
You must raise your eyes to the branches
Of an almost motionless tree
Observer of the outside
To find calm.
Between tears, anger and despair
I don't know where to stand.
Why is it so difficult for me
To know what I like?
For the living, non-living and in-between of this planet.
I seek to know what is my passion
Apart from living
And living better.
In the expectation of your news.
Merci,
- Marie Mazeau certified teacher. Guiding with gentleness, mindfulness and Joy in Paris and internationally online.
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