Les Pères Lachaises

Poems :

By Renata Lee

Spring

Spring is:
Blooming flowers
Easter
New beginnings
Crisp air
Excitement
Rain
Love

Pere Lachaise

Pere Lachaise is:
Dead people
Gravestones
Remembrance
Love
Sadness
Loss

Spring in Le Pere Lachaise

Spring in Le Pere Lachaise is:
Blooming flowers on gravestones
Tears of remembrance
Excitement to see loved ones
Love of memories
Crisp air with a hint of loss
Rain reflecting sadness

I decided to write a poem about Spring/Cemeteries inspired by Liberté by Paul Eluard – a French poet who is buried in the Père Lachaise.

On my notebook
I draw flowers
On blank empty pages
I write your name

On your stone
In fresh spring rain
On the water
I write your name

On your stone
Blooming bouquets lie
Water trickles
I write your name

On foggy nights
Crisp air bites
On your stone
I write your name

On bright days
Sun shines
I remember you
I love you

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

July 3rd, 1971
By Nile Guiraud

It is not the summoveery day from July 3rd, 1971
It is October 5th, 2017
The leaves are green
Their edges begin to curl
Their edges turn copper
Reflective grey skies let a mist of cold rain
Raindrops dance in the palm of my hand
A tree trunk’s surface covered in chewed up gum
A tomb stone covered in bright flowers
An Icon lies under the earth at piece
Dating back to July 3rd 1971

A lizard King sings psychedelic lyrics
Rebels ideas of culture
Drugs and alcohol drain his words
His soul is painted red

The London Fog
A summer of Love
A summer turns into eternity
An eternity of infidelity
An eternity disrupted on July 3rd 1971

James was found in his bath tub
His heart shut down
False notions
Parisian streets frozen
Eternal mystery
To why his soul is taken to the Pére Lachaise
The summer of 1971

There he lies under the earth
Visitors among me
The lovers and the curious
Tears are shed nursing bright flowers
Imitating tears,
the rain drops dance in the palm of my hand
Amongst the village of tombs
I leave the cemetery
It is not the summery day from July 3rd 1971
It is October 5th, 2017

 

The Autumn Ground
By Nasia Chan

Blue sky, grey sky,
White clouds.
Lines of trees, lines of stones,
The wind pasts by.
Movement, stasis,
On the autumn ground.

The children laugh, the children cry,
Concerned mothers.
Going fathers, lost fathers,
Separated families.
Footsteps, shots of fire,
On the autumn ground.

People look for explanations,
People look for answers.
People despise silence,
People despise pain.
People fall
On the autumn ground.

Warm sun, cold stones,
Flowing tears.
Names and surnames,
Engraved in detail.
For eternity, for forever,
On the autumn ground.

Red leaves, red liquid,
Flowing down the road.
Innocent, guilty,
Connected.
Falling leaves, falling men,
On the autumn ground.

Feverish dreams, coarse laughs,
Remembrance.
Time comes, time pasts,
Letting go.
Not in mind, but in heart,
On the autumn ground.

Autumn comes, autumn goes,
Where is hope?
Darkness rules, light diminishes,
Where is the way?
Lost, alone and afraid,
On the autumn ground.

Season before silence, season of an anxious heart,
Wearing a mask of strength.
People weaken, people past,
Armor set apart.
Kneeing with bleeding knees,
On the autumn ground.

Sorrowful sorrow, miserable misery,
A heavy heart.

Blue sky, grey sky,
White clouds.
Lines of trees, lines of stones,
The wind pasts by.
Movement, stasis,
On the autumn ground.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Winter
By Alice Le Ster

Almost gropingly, in the darkness,
fearless,
I was stroling between the extincts.
Behind a wall, still mutters,
From threshold to threshold, by roads,
Evening was gone and winter was born.
The bony winter,
The meager expiatory winter,
Where people are most unlucky
Let the souls in purgatory.

 

The snow was so beautiful on the trees
when stacked gradually,
all the flakes that felt from the sky,
All was white and bark colored.
Some birds shined like stars,
in the middle of that day sky where blue was gone
A Robin, a chickadee,
Twirling around the grave,
And the long path appeared so white.
White.
Like a soft canvas.
As a winter canvas.
Where the colors of life,
will never fly.

Beneath this tomb,
A young girl, with fresh colors,
Dying old, yellow, faded,
And lost his flower hat.
Her heart was in the land of the tombs,
Where her happiness was locked up.
Hopes, reddish illusions,
Vows of glory and thoughts of love,
And the wind with the acute breath
Brutally wins.

Cemetery, doleful place.
Where no one was resurrected.

 

 

Video Youtube Links:

The set up: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V_wOx45lnFg

Reactions: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mOs5lkdwTV8

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