Céréales & Tubercules Manioc 2018

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Catherine Tisserand-Simon LA BÉDOUINE Elle marchait lentement dans la cendre tiède Le feu éteint de l’amour Lui brûlait la plainte des pieds Nulle hâte Nul soupir Longue procession joyeuse Elle et ses ombres Poussière grise Sous le haut ciel gris Nul cri Le ciel avait délavé son visage Le sable avait coulé entre ses doigts Image convenue de madone Traits effacés de la mémoire Temps exténués du monde Yeux voilés de l’éternité violée Nulle pensée L’envers du jour Et puis la nuit Et puis rien Rien que le souvenir Des rires et des larmes Chapelets de rires se faufilant dans le sable Larmes qui creusent les dunes mauves du silence
Brian Michael Barbeito BLUE BLUE BLUE BLUE BLUE SKY AND THE BOUNCING LEAVES IN THE LOQUACIOUS WIND THAT WINDS The sky there and all around was blue as the dense and opaque cloud covering finally left after overstaying its welcome. Man, it had been around for weeks it seemed. One starts to wonder if there is a sky up there after all. I was so quietly content that the blue blue blue blue blue still existed. And there were not many people in the places I ventured to the past days. Lots of walking and wandering and photo taking, though not too much writing afterwards for some reason. In the grand fields a rabbit ran for cover under some faded logs, flaxen and smooth from the sun. There were also some berries, against reason I say, - waiting as if they were in the summer sun or some robust August afternoon! I went down to a small frozen over pond, - and thought I was far enough on the sides, - but the ice broke and I was in to the knees. At that point some mud or vacuum of nature (both actually), - plus gravity and the dynamic fall, - seemed to really grab the right foot and keep a hold of it. If I didn’t know better, I would think there is such a thing as a swamp monster. However, I remained calm amidst my minor calamity, - and got out of there. The walking was wet, to say the least, - and it’s no fun driving home in soaked muddy dirty shoes, socks, and pants. Yet, - for all that, - the reeds and sky and few clouds, - the air and the spaciousness were worth it. The second day I went to a different place, an old stomping grounds, - and stayed clear of water save for the smallest little river bed (hardly noticeable) - that we passed in order that the canines might get a nice fresh drink. What was around there? Some black birds, - the sounds of nature- spring trying to break through, - but again- the word is for certain ‘spaciousness.’ The wind came and when it did it was loquacious and fresh and interested in the wide spaces and the bush both. Ground, - hardly any more ice, - actual footing, - sturdy and terrene and earthy. There is some scat and prints from the nocturnal wildlife that inhabits the world of moon, dark, mystery. I think perhaps coyotes or maybe even just raccoons or something. In the distance is a farm, - and after the farm a feed corn field. Surrounding there are some more berry trees, many Birch trees. If one field is so different than the next (which it is when you get to know them), - imagine the difference between Mississippi and Missouri, between North Bay and Northern California, between different parts of the East Coast, or Africa, China, Russia, the rest,- the millions and trillions of places. There would not be enough lifetimes! So,- we go on our little sojourns or adventures to local green lands and woodlands and are happy in that, searching for the cosmic in the local, the sacred in the silly, the grand in the giddy, the gem in the bushes, the golden secreted gnosis amidst the old leaves brown and deceased that I saw bouncing along in the wind,- not happy in death,- no,- but not sad either,- just contented,- or Zen like- bouncing bouncing twirling travelling there over pebble and under blue sky right in the middle of the afternoon for the wind that visits the earth.
Page 1 and 2: Céréales & tubercules MANIOC 2018
Page 3 and 4: SOMMAIRE Poésie Artal Evelyne Char
Page 5 and 6: EVELYNE CHARASSE Et même Si Je ne
Page 8 and 9: Chrystèle Goncalves Les mille aigu
Page 10 and 11: © Brian Michael Barbeito
Page 12 and 13: Mahrk Gothie Toc toc Quelqu’un fr
Page 14 and 15: Talulah NaaKre Horizon lointain D
Page 16 and 17: Catherine Martinez Chaleur et Ombre
Page 18 and 19: L’été en plastique © Jacques C
Page 20 and 21: Gaetan Sortet Un bar à cocktails e
Page 22: Automne © Talulah Naakre
Page 25 and 26: L. La fleur Il était une fleur Si
Page 27 and 28: Assia ouvrit la trappe dissimulée
Page 30 and 31: Anna OWERKA Vol au-dessus des airs
Page 32 and 33: Gaetan Sortet Khalid El Morabethi P
Page 34 and 35: Brian Michael Barbeito LIGHTNING CH
Page 36 and 37: Jacques Cauda L’été en plastiqu
Page 38 and 39: Catherine Tisserand-Simon LE SILENC
Page 41 and 42: Série Tombe la nuit © Talulah Naa
Page 43 and 44: EVELYNE CHARASSE Je veux t’oublie
Page 45 and 46: Le crime le plus parfait que j’ai
Page 47 and 48: Jessica Mehta Bodies of Water We ar
Page 52 and 53: Talulah NaaKre A grotesque clown Wa
Page 55 and 56: OURS Céréales & Tubercules est un
Page 57 and 58: née à la passion de la découvert

Céréales & Tubercules Manioc 2018

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