Short note on pleonasm, and easy exercise to check understanding.
For my brother
After a war. How can you ever get better? Will the pain ever go away? Can you... heal?
Jenny courait sur la colline. Ses fossettes creusaient ses joues, témoignaient de sa joie manifeste. Ses pieds martelaient le chemin en terre, laissaient des empruntes et délogeaient les petits cailloux de leur cratère dorénavant appauvris. Devant: un horizon sans ligne - seulement de grands arbres, feutrant les rayons du soleil. Derrière: seulement le souvenir de … Continue reading Jenny Ran Sur The Colline —- French & English !But, Same Themes & Ideas (By Issa Dioume in collaboration with Aimé Lesot)
Rewrite What Has Been Written
[...] Bramin, walking up drawn-out alleyways, carried a flyssa sword on his back ; a green-white pearl bracelet gifted to him by his mother ; a satchel leather bag with a long-gilded strap, which allowed enough room for flexible movements. That was why he wore it, as he was fully aware of the dangers which … Continue reading A TUMULTUOUS VOYAGE, Part. 6 [Short-Story Series] by Issa Dioume
Time seems to slow like running water gone still. Haunted and lost by the ghosts of the minds’ windmill trapped in the slow tic-tac motion of the clocks’ hands that kill. Strangling air out from his throat. I need a cig thought Barnaclos. Nothing beats the delicious smell of cigs, warm coffee and cold beer. … Continue reading Chronos Devouring His Son [Short-Story] by Issa Dioume
...Hiding my emotions like an enamoured prostitute. Or an actor, trying to make his debut on this twisted scale. Harloting my way through life, a simulated masquerade, trying not to 'fail'. Beneath, this masked trade hides a performer. me. Outside lies the judging audience, silent observer. THEM. Only one believes the performance matters and fears … Continue reading Silent Falling Bird of A Flock [Poem] by Issa Dioume
... I am the broken window pane. The howling, whistling window holding the panes. The midday shield stopping two forces from fusing. Living in perpetuity. Intermittence is my daily goal. One light shines through me. A shadow casts itself on and beyond me. Yet I hold. Performing a balancing act of light and darkness for … Continue reading Shavings [Flash-Fiction] by Issa Dioume