Good Psa Commercial Ideas

Marie-Claire Bancquart

In the clearing stood a large stone resembling a woman

not quite finished
might have hoisted from below the earth


I do not
want

she said nothing more than a piece of this world
adjust myself well

close to me not give a heart, its pulse biased towards
found, make a

zip-top on the ground
drag me back into the thick
give me the indistinct.

And we have abandoned the leaves,

can not kill death.

Music: here we have four compositions, each putting two or three movements, each of these movements linking together five, twelve, twenty pieces. And each of these parts has to turn to some more than one page. The table of such a book sheds light on the unexpected familiarity of the poet with the methods of organizing the music of his time: it is known to work as librettist for several works of composer Alain Bancquart. Familiarity again, with the manner of stock: tasting table Vertical secrecy is of great delicacy.
"Every part of the collection ranges from black to light that we are trying to say in words severe" risk, the author. It is permissible to say that the work here goes beyond the intention: it is even more in the enrichment course that will review the need of the poem. "Freelance Life", "For the deep body", "City and you", "Isis always" - the four parties that were said, each diffracted into many grains, shadows and stamps , provide as much input in what would be the sound of life - and his silence. Never forgetting that woman means:

Women
our clothing pockets so rare a

sometimes when dragging a receipt for a ticket dispenser
expired

few grains of a rod, which was sprig of lavender

nothing for our identity, our home ...

All this fugitive, devoured
kind as our beautiful ...

away Orpheus, Isis still remains : witness this beautifully made book.

Jean-Marie Perret.

• Marie-Claire Bancquart, Vertical secrecy, Obsidian, 4th Qtr. 2007.

New Baby Us Chewing On Nipple When Musing

Yves Bonnefoy

What is said of the boats appear in the sky
And that, some,
The long chain of the anchor may descend
Towards stealthy our land.
The anchor looks on our prairies, among our trees,
The place where dock,
But soon the desire to tear it off up there,
The ship also does not belong here, He
his horizon in another dream.

Books Yves Bonnefoy succeed, and it is difficult not to recognize this great voice, in its permanence and the changes imposed by years. When the poet excels, then the poem is nourished by its own legendary atmosphere, as each verse, each group of words enriches certainties, doubts, ratings of both expected and surprising. Bonnefoy takes precautions to say simple things, precipitates more complex, driving before him a sweet and energetic flow, which recognizes its matter in its metamorphoses

It happens, however,
That the anchor is, it seems, unusual heavy,
And almost drags the ground and crumpled trees
It would have to be taken to a church door, where the hanger
Sub Our hope fades,
And someone of that other world was descended
left along the chain taut, violent
To deliver its our night sky ... This

Long anchor chain, from which these two passages, has the best sequence to the collection. As for prose, we praise the brilliance of America : this way of being surprised by the story, which turns into a meditation, with superposition of a parallel scene, previously printed in the memory (pure reverie? ), only Bonnefoy gives us such emotions in the modern prose poem. But at the cost of monitoring the pace and style that does not show the same way all the pieces together here. A collection well done is not necessarily a book: the unpublished s'adjoignent here in greater numbers, sets published from 2001 to 2007, including the heterogeneity is obvious. Whatever:

And here is a child tries to go back, despite the narrowness of the road - to whom? He faces the other, they if required by the difficulty of moving forward and keep their balls they do not even see. I take him by the arm and I remember. "Where are you going?" "I said. He raises to me both eyes wide with a thought which I will never know anything. And I asked him again: "What's your name?" But without answering, and always looking at me, his eyes thoughtful, he shakes his head. Since these barges

cited the sky above, and agrees that passes between man and the child's age is the theme that he was insistent, deep, this long period that has seen starting with Where the arrow falls ... He echoed the confusion of the poet to his own writing:

I smoothed my notes ... I discovered there any sense. Words, but whose thinking was withdrawn.

Very nice pages.

Jean-Marie Perret.

• Yves Bonnefoy, The long anchor chain , Mercure de France, 2008.