A beautiful friend is translating my poetry for my upcoming book into French!

here is an example of her delicious, delicate and astute translation



Our bonds have become our own doing

no matter how tightly we are conditioned

how painful our restraints

how deeply we were wounded or by whom

in the end we sit alone

either free to be


holding our own hands behind our back

in an ironic gesture

of comfort


Nos chaines sont devenus produit de nos propres actions

peu importe la sévérité de notre conditionnement

la douleur de nos contraintes

la profondeur de nos blessures et qui les a infligé

au bout du compte nous nous tenons seuls

soit libre d’exister


nos mains derrière notre dos

dans un geste ironique

de réconfort


Published by The Silver Poet

I AM a little spark in the sea of conscious awareness. I am passionate about bringing the concept of freedom of expression into the forefront of our one mind and a keen awareness of personal power to the hearts of little children everywhere. I exist to express!

4 thoughts on “Comfort

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Silver Poetry

All That Glitters Is Not Gold

Unfettered BS

it is all just bullshit anyway.....


Your Brain is a Radio that Does What its Told

Post Scriptum Poets

Haikus Senryus and Tankas about anything and everything

InkBlots and IceBergs

musings on life | bits of psychology | attempts at poetry

This and That

In other countries individuals go to jail and/or die for weblogging. While the bulk of this country makes the internet an extention of T.V.


Scripting the desires that are soul deep

Cosmos Reflection

poetry that speaks to you

Africa Zwelibanzi

The Poetry Monarch.

Jeffrey Pillow

Life, death, and everything in between


Texas Outlaw Poet

Purple Haze

Darkness, delusion, smeared with a stick of butter and laughter. Words collide, they bring forth death!

The Lonely Author

Pain goes in, love comes out.

The Realm

well, come on in. bite. chew. spit.

SouL SpeakS

He started Writing, The paper started speaking...

%d bloggers like this: