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Toujours j'ai écrit. Je crois. Mais jamais montré. Jusqu'a un temps assez récent,enfin pour moi récent, une dizaine d'années. Pensais pas que.
Puis bon, les hasards, tout ça. Les rencontres. Alors je continue. De plus belle.Les rencontres et l'écriture.Tout ce que j'aime.
Alors voilà: c'est des mots, du théâtre, des poèmes, des chansonnettes, des histoires, tout mêlé parfois. Ou plus linéaire. Des mots qui
appellent des musiques. Ou des couleurs jetées là. Je cherche. Parfois des personnages. Parfois autre chose. Mais les mots et les rencontres, ça oui. Et les
passerelles.Toujours.
Alice’s new and modern adventures
In 1derworld
(originally written for Artistic Caravan)
Don’t ever
Ever
Do that again
I mean
Try to grin
Like me
I’d take it personal
I would
Vanish
And leave
Only just a trail
Of tears
Only joking
Of course
Follow me
This way
If you dare
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1
Hey
We’re all in it together
We are
You can do as you please
You can
Pretend you have no responsibility
In the building up of this world
You’re only fooling yourself
What’s your fuel ?
Money ?
Power ?
Lust ?
Who did you last torture
Blood under your nails
Who did you last betray ?
Lies lingering in your dreamy eyes ?
Who did you last sell
On the market of evidence
In the funfair of human flesh ?
Don’t be shy
Revel in your long-lost innocence
Your body is your vehicle
Treat it well
Embark on a journey
All is possible
Or possibly
All
Is
Run
Before it’s too late
Fall
Before you regret
Your choice
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We want
A soft
Burial
Taste
Is your last act of
Disobedience
They forgot us
And left us
Simmering
In time
Money
Is the key
But the keyhole
Is gone
The keyhole
Is the key
The question
Not the answer
Papers
What papers
All we need is
Wings
In the theatre
I love
Your velvet
Throat
And the gurgling sound
It makes
Everyday
we are born
Again
Never answer
When they knock
At your door
Never ask
When offered
A ripe mango
On a tray
Bite in
Live
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Alice
I hate crossroads
That’s why I vote for substitute fathers
Or mothers, for that matter
They free me of cumbersome will
They decide, I follow
They order, I obey
Sometimes in naughty dreams
I imagine I could silence their voice
But it never lasts
The thing is :
Whenever I choose,
The things I have not chosen
Bear so much weight in me
Drag me to the bottom of the ocean
So I stay here motionless
I dare not say : This way
This way I have not explored yet
And at least that’s one good reason
To try
Hey
Know what ?
I think
I can do it
This time
I look through the forbidden hole
And I don’t die
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Well, I might as well run far away since I’ve started running. There’s no point in disobeying just a little. Plus, I have to run faster than others. Be better. More agile. More supple. Younger. The youngest fastest strongest highest best fugitive in the world. Beating all previous fugitives. My name in the book at the top of the list. A source of inspiration for schoolchildren and movie-makers. I’m the Alicest of all Alices. I’m unique. I’m me.
In the distance I see a moving crowd. I’m beginning to suspect there’s something wrong. Where are all these people going ? Billions of little ants running in all directions. All of them vith Alices’ heads and foreign languages . All of them disobeying orders given in such soft voices ?
Work
Work harder
Don’t speak to strangers
Dont’ help illegal foreigners
Protect your property
Hatch it like a weary hen
Close your eyes
Close your house
Shut your mouth
Did they mention
Mermaids
Luring away poor sailors ?
This key is mine
This key
Is a spaceship
To the stars
Don’t drink or smoke
If you haven’t been introduced
Don’t follow beautiful strangers
Into foggy theatres
Don’t trust anybody
Speaking of freedom
Don’t share anyone’s food
Or sleeping space
Or body
Or heart
Or soul
I need a drink
In this desert
Emotions
Have dried
Wasted away
I need danger
I need
Time
Distorsion
I need
To build up my own epic
At last
(to be continued)
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extrait de: "Be yourself"
( à écouter bientôt sur onceuponapodcast.com )
Characters:
Marianne, 27
Nancy, 73
Len, 26
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Scene one : Supermarket cash-desk. Sound : cash machine, sirupy music. Voice in loud-speaker: “Your supermarket is now closing its doors. Please proceed (move on?) to the cash-desks”
Marianne , (27), I’m sorry, Madam, I think you still have something in that shopping bag of yours…..Madam? It’s ok , you can still take it out and put it on the desk, no problem…… ………………….. Madam, sorry, I just have to………………………… (whispers) Why do you have to do that to me just before closing time? Do you think I want to stay here after bloody work-hours? …..Madam? Would you mind listening to me ? …….It’s going to ring anyway……….. And they have cameras everywhere….don’t want to lose my job..(hissing) Stupid old hag….(then shouts) MADAM! Open your bag, will you?
Nancy (73) It’s that boy over there.
Marianne What boy?
Nancy That young man in baggy pants with the cap.
Marianne What about him?
Nancy He put it into my bag
Marianne He put what into your bag?
Nancy That disk
Marianne That album? Why should anyone in their right mind put a Dvorak album into an old lady’s bag?
Nancy I’m not that old
Marianne Who’s that Dvorak anyway? Never heard of him.
Nancy And I like Dvorak.
Marianne I hope so. He just got you into real trouble.
Nancy: That boy put me into real trouble, not Dvorak. He must have wanted to steal it, then he realized he was being watched, and he got rid of it by putting it into my bag.
Marianne: A delinquent, hey?
Nancy: Exactly. Here he is anyway, walking towards us with an innocent expression on his young delinquent’s face. I’m sure you’ll sort everything out, or I’ll have to call management and complain.
Marianne: Madam, I’m sorry to tell you that but that boy works for management.
Nancy: Oh……………………I see. A cop. (whispers) A bloody fucking traitor to his class.
( louder, deliberately dramatic) Well, that’s it then. Take me to jail. I’ll serve my sentence for the sake of art in general and music in particular.
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Scene 2 : A car in a street at night. Leonard/ Lenny , the young man who works as a cop in the supermarket, is driving. Nancy is sitting next to him. Jazz music on the radio.
Nancy: It’s nice of you to drive me home
Len: It’s all right
Nancy: You didn’t have to
Len: My pleasure . Shall I go straight on?
Nancy: Yes. Do you always drive delinquent old ladies back home?
Len: Only when they used to be my teacher.
Nancy: Your teacher? …. Oh…….What’s your name?
Len: Do you remember all your students’names?
Nancy: No, actually I don’t. But when I hear one again, sometimes it rings a bell. You’d be surprised at the tricks memory plays when you grow older.
( to be continued....)