Margui Speaks Up

I have a virtual friend called as follows: ...just, with another spelling. He used to be the best friend of my boyfriend - then we split up, but they did not. Why am I telling you about that? Well, first because he is a poet. Argh ! A Poet! How can you dare to say that? I suppose that, if you insist in calling yourself a poet, you actually have much better chance to become one (i.e. to be publicly recognized as one, then to believe you actually are one yourself because of that), thank if you don't. This guy happily writes and does anything with paper, colors and fiber, and pots, including keeping a cultivated garden (I mean -plotted - not a garden of poets of course!) and cooking whatever they grow in America. This guy has probably a soft heart and some sensibility, a very high opinion of himself nor he is immune from the playful, naive attitude which is the greatest asset of Americans vis -à- vis average Europeans, and their major pitfall if they compare with the best among ...

This is the next thing I am gonna tackle as soon as I can. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQUkkTcrgvs I heard Radu Lupu perform it in a lunar , liquid way, such as the bird was in fact a jelly fish. They say that Aldo Ciccolini is extremely good at playing that, making it look like a "colibri", a hysteric, brainless bird , as a prophet bird like the phoenix is supposed to be. I would like to let it emerge that the second part actually is the bird's prophecy of prosperity, and let the two side-parts be mysterious, nasty and smoky as they deserve to be. In the first and last part is just an unintelligen and witched bird - and the God is not yet/no more speaking through it. This is a typical "easy" piece that it is extremely easy to play with arrogance and impotence. I find the end spectacular - extremely difficult . Good luck! Un petit cadeau schumannien pour toi, mon lecteur! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XIshPW0mKM4&feature=related M

I have read Les enfants terribles by Jean Cocteau , in French, and just finished it. It is a terrible, horrible, symbolistic, heavily poetic book. It makes the reader full of disgust and macabre understanding at the end. It has an explicit trait of The great Gatsby (a death on a sport-car) and of Madame Bovary (poison at the end! To exit a difficult narrative situation). It evocates very poetic images: the "boules de neiges qui etoilaient le mur", tears which slip into retracted lips, and come out again, as new tears from the mouth. Cocteau is able to describe the walk of this girl as "heavy, light, flying" and to give you the impression that you are really understanding what that means. . Les enfants terribles is the right, insightful title. These are the terrible children you see (or you have been) who torture animals. The "vierge sacrée", the protagonist, the "genie-de-la-chambre"-priestess Elisabeth tourtures and dominates all her peers,...

Global widespread panic The God had heard your say The storm came on the way The dance of clouds was manic The forest became darker Worms came out to the rain And well before the pain You heard the crack of thunder «Farewell! Farewell!» You’d told her «I shan’t see you any more» She fainted on the floor, No reason to live further «Farewell!» She was your love «Farewell!» She had been yours The forest and the God Had lost one of their doves She is dead – her pain is yours now Whenever there’ll be rain You’ll hear her crying whisper Which will drive you insane