Portraits
Prod 2026 – Copyright Outhis – production
Want to read what you can’t see?
Oh, how beautiful is the bow,
And the kind and subtle words!
Are they talking about you or through you?
Like gathering petals from the air
That we throw so that the breeze
Brings them back and praises us!
Mind your bow
10/01/2011 – 18/01/2011
It is a little dream that lulls you to sleep,
Vibrating in your numb thoughts.
There could be no more beautiful mask
To wear over blinded eyes.
A little dream that is not mine,
That is not yours, and no one else’s.
But which ends up growing like the ocean
That throws its waves to carry everything away,
Washing away reality and blurring vision
With water thrown in our faces.
01/03/2010 – 19/07/2012
A telescope, an observatory,
Binoculars, toward the most unknown distance.
Enlarge, bring about, let emerge
What the raging storm promises.
Like blinders. The gaze cast
Ahead of dangers to announce them
Does not capture the meadows and winds
That cradle the world in its twists and turns.
15/11/2016
Proud of his reasoning, which he plants
In minds and hearts from a spear,
Its vicious tip dipped in illusions.
He throws out truths like prison bars,
Hidden under the guise of reality,
To deceive the chains of his reasoning.
The reason for some truths opens this horizon
That slips away with each step we take.
15/10/2024
Shoulders squared, elbows out,
And with a confident gait, no one could say
We hadn’t noticed, glimpsed, seen him!
A breeze that makes shiver
The garlands and sequins
On his wave of pride and lesson
To be taught by the exception of his manners.
A blow whose breath jangles
But struggles to please the sense of smell.
15/10/2024
Steady Lashes
The notebook tormented by a pen
Spills out streams of notes
From negative to the worst of judgements.
Names drown there into blacklists
That flow in torrents of muddy rejection.
They stain the endless lines of the pages.
They pour out beneath the fury
Of floods with merciless currents.
No dam can hold back the wrath
Of a storm that pours forth with righteousness
Forged in the faith of the elements.
31/01/2012
The gentle, warm, humid breeze
Brushes against quivering skin.
The soft, warm and moist eyes
Glide over the quivering leaves.
The scents of rain or flowers
Teases the depths of the heart.
The sound of laughter or sighs
Echoes through the depths of the woods.
The sun’s rays, like nuggets,
Set the lips and breath ablaze.
The scarlet mouth of nuggets
Kisses the berries and the winds.
Confusion bubbles in the meadows
From afar and forever.
17/04/2018
The friendly friends gang
It’s the gesture, the smile held back from laughter,
The hand on the back or on a shoulder,
These practices of emphatic familiarity
But multiplied by various repetitions,
Those in the moment with the same person,
Those in space with the number.
It is a fire smouldering in the ashes
To glow and radiate a halo of pride
That spreads to the whole world
Because it highlights a power
That any breath could rekindle
Or just blow out and extinguish.
20/05/2010
A fairground stall that can’t take it anymore
Because the rifle spits out deadly metal,
And the pipe tears away at a real face
Of flesh, eyes and blood.
The fairground worker hides in the shadows
And pays handsomely to the onlooker
Who has come not for joy but to recover
From a misery disgusted with all humanity.
The jester takes his place
To surprise, to stand out, to cause embarrassment,
Anything to dig deeper than expected.
Did they laugh, or even smile, did they see?
Lacking any other attribute or sign,
Poor thing, never visible
Without saying it, without even shouting it,
A sudden change from sunshine to rain
Soaks the distracted and the indifferent
Who, wet, wonder about the unexpected.
25/11/2013 – 18/02/2019
Not knowing anything about his ignorance.
But tired of being just a toy
Of fate or bad hands,
A ball rebels and rolls away,
Out of the direction it was rolling in.
It hits the edge and pretends
To break everything where it lets off steam,
But ricochets on this sandy path,
Which rolls it through puddles and mud.
Silence is a sound that cannot be shared,
For no description can make it heard.
Thus the rumbling of clamour, of pain,
And of the terror of men are masked
By a void of words, reactions, and accusations.
Did you not hear him exclaim or at least whisper
Indignation and opposition if he did not utter them?
30/04/2018
Through his thinness, his shifty gaze…
Through his faded clothes, covered gestures…
But who are we talking about? What are we talking about?
Through poorly paid labour, through heavy work,
Through rejected papers, through denied status…
But who are we talking about? What are we talking about?
Through avoided neighbourhoods, through distant streets,
Through overpriced housing in a dilapidated place…
But who are we talking about? What are we talking about?
We only ignore who we want to because it suits us better that way!
24/03/2019
Stripped bare chameleon
A carnival sounds trumpets and drums
And behind masks, costumes and make-up
Words are freed, gestures let loose,
The impulses of bodies no longer hidden!
But take off your sunglasses,
Coat, shoes, hat
Of the finest fashion
That gives your confidence,
You step out of the daily parade
And you remain naked.
What becomes of you without your splendour?
Not even love remains.
19/04/2018