Woman of Essence

 

 O lovely scent!  O petals!              

logo Woman of Essence final photo

Silent… how silent the Wind

 

like a passing  wind

she is an enigma, 

a puzzle a conundrum… 

a tear, a smile, a lapiz lazulli, 

a few facts…

a thunderous lightning

a horse power of courage

her voice wanders 

shrilling whispering 

in the silence of her being.

23754819_10214579794273530_1584915404407636626_n

 I shall feature les femmes Internationale literaturnus… poetries of their own country’s beautiful language, then I shall try to  translate the poem’s soul, heart, and spirit in the most sensual ecstatic intoxicating English Language… not literally, not word for word, but in words that languaged the thoughts. I call it Perceptive Translations!!! Then I shall create an impressionistic portrait  of the featured poetician.

__ade caparas manilah sydney nsw australia 25 april 2019

https://adecaparas34.wordpress.com

https://www.facebook.com/adecaparasmanilah/posts

Email Address: gmanilah@yahoo.com

                               gandahmanilah3@gmail.com

 

Featured Poet:

Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim  

draft -3 myriam      “I began writing when I was 14 years old… I was then with a music group, when I stumbled, got hooked by a very interesting French poetry book, my song turn into a poetry__my poetry into a song!” Loneliness, a tear drop, death, injustice, the sunset adieu, animal and nature cruelty  are mostly the thematic sensuality  of her thoughts. She is much fascinated with writings  and poetries of Alfonse de Lamartine, “I couldn’t sleep without reading one of his poems every night.”

    “I write in French… its every word is so sensually descriptive and romantic.  I have no specific style of writing and no special form either; I feel my wings when I write as I want; no rules… all freedom! “ It is the least of her concern how readers would receive her writings, it’s the satisfaction she feels upon completing her created poem. “It’s mine, my story, my pains.” But of course, she feels so inspired and motivated when readers give their comments: good and constructive criticism. She believes it’s not proper to correct anyone’s poem nor render a bad comment__ because that is their soul put into words versing a language.

     Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim was born and resides in Tunis and the mother of a son, 14age and a daughter, 11 age. A world traveller, and lived in Senegal for 3 years during her youth, where people are naturally in smiles: taking life as it comes, sans dramas and complications. 

    “I think that we should live each day like it will be the last.”

French Poetry by;  Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim   

1  “POUVOIR S’AIMER”

Pouvoir tranquillement écrire,

Écrire pour le plaisir,

Le plaisir des mots,

Des mots pour effacer,

Effacer les vilains maux,

Maux qui vont blesser,

Blesser l’âme et l’esprit,

L’esprit qui va suivre,

Suivre des routes à l’infini,

L’infini pour vivre,

Vivre avec son cœur,

Son cœur, tel un navire,

Un navire qui va poursuivre,

Poursuivre le bonheur,

Le bonheur à donner,

À donner et à partager,

Partager avec de la bonté,

De la bonté et de l’attention,

De l’attention et de l’affection,

De l’affection sans l’horizon,

L’horizon qui peut bloquer,

Toute merveilleuse sensation,

Sensation d’être enchanté,

Enchanté de pouvoir sereinement penser,

Penser pour mieux se libérer,

Se libérer des fausses idées,

Idées qui doivent être nouvelles,

Nouvelles et être belles,

Belles comme les lettres,

Lettres que manipule le poète,

Le poète comme un doux esthète,

Un doux esthète, à l’intérieur de son être,

Son être est plein d’amour,

D’amour et de douceur,

Douceur de l’instant,

L’instant unique et présent,

Présent avec ardeur,

Ardeur pour toujours,

Toujours donner du plaisir,

Du plaisir à savourer,

Savourer et chérir,

Chérir cette humanité,

Cette humanité qui doit se réveiller,

Se réveiller pour mieux sourire,

Sourire pour mieux se réunir

Se réunir pour mieux s’aim.

 

Perceptive Translation:

 (as translated by: ade caparas manilah  based on the literal English translation)… in translating a poem from an original language copy,  one has to get almost into a trance to be able to experience the soul of the poem__ because  a word for word translation, spoils the ecstatic sensuality of what the poet is signifying.

 “POWER TO LOVE”  (“POUVOIR S’AIMER”)

in silence… 

i write… 

the depth of words

my joy my desire

that come and go

lacerations  bleeding

my soul my spirit

leads me… 

to life of infinity.

my  heart sails

O! __sailing like a ship

pursuing  happiness

sharing giving taking

kindness attention affection

no nothing can block

my wonderful feeling

my feeling of enchantment

my calm thoughts.

i free my being

detached from falsehood

birthing new thoughts

beautiful words 

turn to 

the Ecstasy of Language

moments… moments of

love sweetness ardour

to savour cherish care.

to dream of humanity

as a nest of love

that wakes up 

in music in poetry

O! __yes 

one day

with a smile

and shouting laughters

Utopia!!! by: __ade c.

   

French Poetry by;  Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim   

2  “Une larme”

C’est une goutte d’eau 

Qui ne vient pas d’un ruisseau 

Elle coule du coin des yeux 

Fait toujours ce qu’elle veut 

Elle roule sur la joue 

On l’enlève d’un geste doux 

Elle tombe, une autre suit 

Cela peut durer à l’infini 

Une larme de bonheur 

Celle qui touche le coeur 

Qui procure cette chaleur 

Et nous donne sa douceur 

Une larme de douleur 

Celle qui parle du malheur 

Qui apporte tous ces pleurs 

Que l’on essuie avec pudeur 

Une larme de velours 

Douce comme l’amour 

Une larme de satin 

Qui brille sans fin 

Elle a ce goût salé 

Celui des grandes marées 

On ne peut jamais décider 

Quand cela va s’arrêter…

by: Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim

 

Perceptive Translation:

 (as translated by: ade caparas manilah based on the literal English translation)… in translating a poem from an original language copy,one has to get almost into a trance to be able to experience the soul of the poem__ becausea word for word translation, spoils the ecstatic sensuality of what the poet is signifying.

2“A Tear”  (“Une larme”)

a drop of water

not from a stream

but from the corner of my eyes…

pearl rolls down on my cheeks

a gentle  pat to dry it.

one after the other

it comes it flows endlessly;

a tear of joy 

touches my heart 

with sweetness.

a tear of pain

speaks of misfortune

sadness brings 

these tears

i wipe with modesty

a tear of velvet

sweet as love

a tear of satin

shines endlessly

a salty taste.

the high tides of stream

come came come

when will it stop?

i wander i wander

it keeps coming!!!  by: __ade c.

Comments:

DR JERNAIL S. ANAND

Poet/Philosopher

President/ Founder: Philosophique Poética

#4 W.U.P. poetencomium GALLERIA-JERNAIL AANAND

 

 It is really great to welcome sweet poetry of soul from Tunisia….The poet……Expresses herself with felicity and touches themes which connect her to the immortal realms of life. It is right she writes poetry as it comes to her. That is real poetry. And Ade Caparas Manila’s Perceptive Translation is also a soulful touching of hearts. TEARS are a wonderful poem. It shows how she handles her poetic impulse. I congratulate the Tunisian poet and also admire  Ade Caparas Manilah ‘s highly  involved poetic yearnings. I am sure she will introduce more posts who are at the beginning of their poetic career.__JSA India

 

Critical Analysis:

Prof. Cijo Joseph Chennelil

Kristu Jyoti College of Management and Technology

Director: Philosophique Poética

22007934_491466917878396_3842141260921798346_n

 Myriam Ghezail Ben Brahim ji, Two of your poems titled “Power to Love” and “A Tear” explore the inner turbulences experienced by an individual of aesthetic sensibility and sensitivity.The poem entitled “Power to Love” does dwell upon the concept of love in a substantial manner in which all its strands are dealt with adequately and aptly.This love is not a love of smooth nature rather it commences within the domain of emotional vibrancy but it encounters so many turmoils before it reaches that utopian shore of full-fledged happiness.The concept of love projected here comes across ups and downs and ebbs and flows and it also faces hiccups and glitches.The interior self is ploughed up by the impact of this love but there is an underlying joy born out of this feeling of love. Although, this love can’t be termed as bliss so present, even then it does have its own positives and negatives. At the end, the pristine nature of love is comprehended and life is bathed in its glory.

The other poem entitled “A Tear” delves into the psychological side of a tear and the deep-rooted trauma it evokes out of the individual in question here in the poem.The mental self is outraged, the emotion is swelled, the thoughts are preoccupied, the memories are perused and the life gets into that trajectory of agony, from such sentiments or feelings, a drop of tear is brought forth drenching the self from head to foot and in that process, the entire self is purged, purified and cleansed from top to bottom. A catharsis ramification, the self undergoes through this shedding of a tear. So, the power of a tear is overwhelming and formidable for the body and soul to regain their lost innocence. Kudos to you for composing such wonderful and marvellous poems of transformative pedigree.

Prof. Cijo Joseph Chennelil.

All Copyrights Reserved@

On 26th April 2019.

 

END

#14 “The Provocateur”

#14 “The Provocateur’ [Series Poetry-Painting]

(deviates from substance and depth, using my artistic visual definitions)

“enjoy love” like a concierto” (poeticized)

strange strange yet, i still love him__am i challenged?__ is it love?__ is it ego?… like a concierto it starts soft slow gentle gaining momentum, then bang bang bang as if in orgasmic moment!

ade in lucid reflection 2019

i miss that Silhouette

ahhhh… i love that distinguished walk

rhythmic steps, the graceful back arc.

as i sit in comfort

tracing the intriguing run;

in a rhumba sway!

his royal grace glows in his sophistication

ahhhh… i miss those days

when we would trot every morning.

we reach a beach shore

and he canters… then gallops

and i, in total surrender hold on the reins!

but love fades it dries it dies

ends in shouting bang

the slow gentle sway ends as in a concierto!

expressionism poetry by: __ade caparas manilah

16 march 2019 sydney nsw australia

#13 “The Provocateur”…[Series Poetry-Painting] shouting to exist

#13 “The Provocateur”…[Series Poetry-Painting]

(deviates from substance and depth, using my artistic visual definitions)

shouting to exist

this morning, in the midst of an early sydney summer morning heat, i rid my garden of few wild displeasing growths, this satisfaction left my mid-finger in pain… ahhh arthritis! __and as i sat in my lovely pergola, my sight lingered… catching glimpse of a piece of 15’ log which i laboriously  dragged from the front public park some months ago in its abandoned state, partly covered of weeds, left to rot under rain sun, till that day i found it. Now it has age-dried to perfection.

hd shout for existence ade final

 

the lovely curvature

traced with knobs

of broken branches

the aged dents cracks 

chipping of its barks

complete the graceful 

nature beauty

of its existence

shouting to exist!

 

life is full of dented cracked spaces, broken branches of dreams, disquietudes chips of everyday breath, yet out of necessity, why not be an artist, a poet, an sculptor: be a creator; create your life… given the gift of intellect, feeling of freewill, subtlety, full power of creativeness… make crisis a triumph!

make nature a reality

discover the defects

as the central focus 

of beautiful existence

rather live in a shack

surrounded by greenery 

of herbs of fruits of flowers

than a concreted mansion who’s airfoamed bed 

is riddled with machines.

shout sing dance to exist

to the reality of nature

obey that necessary form

what the situation demands

be in love

with the wind rain sun

it is only upon fusion

of the contradictories 

shout for existence is heaven!

an expressionistic poetry by: __ade caparas manilah

monday 2:09pm 04 february 2019

sydney nsw australia

#12 “The Provocateur”…[Series Poetry-Painting] Truth is Death

#12 “The Provocateur”…[Series Poetry-Painting]

(deviates from substance and depth, using my artistic visual definitions)

 Truth is Death

“the world, a weepy-willow tree, infinite in its droops a dangled chain… clusters of meaningless beings, born to live in the peals of distress and pages of helplessness… ahhhhhhhhh, INDIO, you agree not but asserted nothing! __ade caparas manilah

ade hd truth of existence

 

the truth exist:

i breathe

flowers trees birds houses books rains thunders lightnings

 

 

 

all things surrounding;

my passion my hunger my pain

ahhhh, the world is true

bubbling leaking themselves

as true 

sometimes as false!

but am i true?

you ask, “how are you?”

i reply, “fine, thanks!”

when  the truth is: 

i ache!

i am a weepy-willow… lacerated bleeding

but foolish, who acts not

waiting waiting ‘manna’ from heaven.

 

the ‘manna’ fails to fall from heaven

i need to climb up a mango tree

hold that fruity juicy mango

i act to have… 

the truth of existence 

my being is pronounced

surges in reality

i taste the fruity juicy mango!

my smile 

an appearance 

simulates  joy 

true…

but 

the falsity of joy is

i ache

reality of my being

truth identifies my being.

Assertiveness leads to the reality of my being, i.e. grabbing surging bubbling dancing singing writing… which is an actuality of appearances yet my consciousness is that of an infinite image of a weepy-willow; the truth… the revelation of may existence is ‘Death’.

a surreal  prose and poetry by: __ade caparas manilah

saturday 5:57pm 02 february 2019

Sydney nsw australia

#11 “The Provocateur”…[Series Poetry-Painting]

#11 “The Provocateur”…[Series Poetry-Painting]

(deviates from substance and depth, using my artistic visual definitions)

how free am i?

hd ade dated

 

“i am a poet, an imperious artist, quasi-infantile from my crib… with capable imagination of magical act to pen the object of mine thought: unbothered about distance, about darkness; taking  possession of mine desire.” _ade caparas manilah

i am a leaf

flown in existence 

in the midst of the world

a being in alienation 

with that of the others

trailing my meanings 

marking my limits

am i free then?

how free?

i create a lovely paradise, a purplish blue rainbow where in my relax breathe, i romance with the green foliages and the seductive lips of dancing flowers…re-enacting the then: 

a candle-lit dine

stares entwine

our love in the afternoon. (haiku 5/3/7)

yes, i, a poet free in my thoughts, in my pen, yet my body is still in possession of others… they hold secrets about me__ of who what why i am as they  would please… this consciousness of possessing me. 

they… who stole my being

find me “that i am”

that consciousness of

possessing me

making me nevertheless responsible

for the consciousness 

which is my being

i am not free

a prisoner of worlds consciousness.

 

a selfie-portrait in poetry by __ade caparas manilah

thursday 10:46am 31 january 2019

sydney nsw australia

#10“The Provocateur”…[Series Poetry-Painting]

logo...pp

Poetry is the soul of writing, its appeal comes from the existence of disfigured and adulterated thoughts of an artistic mind… a mind that traverses the colossal incalculable unfathomable universe… expressed through the flight of languages, only a poet can silhouette; a poet who finds himself nude in the midst of an iceberg, yet feels the steamy hot springs refreshing his spirit with such immeasurable orgasmic intoxication. Poetry comes in many moods: an intense love that makes the moon hide in its blinding shines; a violent anger that drowns thousands with its dagger alphabets; an obsessed demon that would skull one out of its existence; poetry does not lie… the only created phrase that sends a thousand and one  thoughts.__ade caparas manilah

A Loving Tribute to a departed great poet, Madan Yayati G. Gandhi

award given to madan yayati gandhi by pp

now you’ve gone

leaving your earthy abode

windows of window

play the unspoken words

how much we’d miss you,

your marvellous languages words 

music to our ears…

Philosophique  Poética de-Aanand

loves you, Madan Yayati G Gandhi                                

__ade caparas manilah

Madan Yayati G Gandhi’s latest poem:

“…Poetry opens by blooming heart’s cosmic seed in soul; and merging within om santih santih santih. May we give loving for all, tending nurture of life’s entire garden; singing oneness within beauty’s divine renewable health, strength and vitality. 

Living each moment inside of now – we are love; becoming truly ever loving… A Lover of Life – inside heart and soul.” 

HEART OF A LOVER 

I walk and walk

on a lonely trek

with a sense of zest.

Someday, I will arrive

at celebration of a new earth; 

sans borders, sans sense of ours and others.

The one-earth home to everyone

where people offer open-arm welcome

to everyone who comes with heart of a lover.

Like an open shelf library with rarest books, 

and readers freely browsing through them

sitting in the browsing lounge of kindness.

To wake up in a world free 

of hate and fear; in the here and now, 

not in some distant future. 

Yayati, Madan G Gandhi

Poet Laureate, 

President,

Global Fraternity of Poets 

Dr Jernail S Aanand’s poem in response to Madan Yayati G Gandhi’s poem

THE WILD AND THE FIRE

By Dr Jernail S Aanand

Here is a part of the everywhere.

A soft border visible to the eye. 

How man loved the bordered village 

with a passion so high 

Held hard to his ground.

Swelled his margins all around.

Wanted all to admire

The wild and the fire.

On bare bones was fitted 

A case of flesh.

Blood ran in the veins

All looked so fresh.

Death of the here

Is a moment of celebration.

When here and everywhere

In a seamless union 

come together.

 

Posted by:

__ade caparas manilah

sunday 9:49pm 27 january 2019

sydney nsw australia

#8“The Provocateur”…[Series Poetry-Painting]

(deviates from substance and depth, using my artistic visual definitions)

“My Winter Years”

Now that i am in my winter years… the ethical political mathematical astronomical religious implications of my existential significance__the ludicrousness farcicality of my life, ahhhhhhhhh… my silent aloneness… my years of anguish, my alternating sequences of tears and joy, my continuing  fight for triumph, all these have dominated my thoughts during these last five decades of my 84 years of life, which i must say, were moments of trials and errors; of spiritual doubts and surrender. My love for the ‘existentialism’ of Jean Paul Sartre; the ‘superman’ of Friedrich Nietzsche; the ‘subjectivity consciousness’… that initiatory experience of being ravished by Roland Barthes, made me accept what is; and the ‘empirical moments’ i had with God, developed by the readings of the Holy Scriptures, mounted the faith,  i am so blessed…

 

final HD ade magnolia 2018

“white steel magnolia”

a strength  seasoned by 

the wild storms and winds

the burning fury heat of summer

the icy chills of winter

the withering falling leafs of autumn

yet, 

its whiteness unblemished

its skin hardened yet satiny

a symbol of femininity, i am a Magnolia!

I wasn’t born to hate and create enemies, yet i usually find moi in the midst of it; provoked challenged demanded expected!!! __perhaps in my fragile tiny 100 pound-weights, i pronounce such superman bearing, physically mentally emotionally spiritually… i can’t say i am a voluptuous beauty, yet i seem to be like a firefly competing with the stars, i feel – see – know – hear – taste it as a fact!!! And i love it!!! O, i must admit, i am in truth a narcissist!

“the Moon”

she knows:

she’s a beauty

she creates induces:

love romance sex

she’s watched admired desired

she flaunts but unreached

she glitters and hides

she’s unpredictably expected

a woman is a moon!

Five decades of voracious thirsting for the meaning of life— but in my simple mind, though sages philosophers poets musicians painters have created its meaning through their specialized arts… life is music, without the varying pitch and tone: its high and its low, it won’t create a sonata.

“a belly dancer”

she commands her muscles

to her modes and tempos

exposes her most tempting torso

miming the beats of  drum

sways like waves of the sea

her gentle mission

to shimmer beyond good and evil

whispering love songs

belly dancer, the nuance of life!

Life is difficult, because you allow it so, it is hard because you believe it so, you wouldn’t follow the pitch and tone of your music, the bouncing grace of your muscles, your fear of being unliked, disapproved, unwelcome hides your desired happiness.

“be a superman”

let your imagination to a reality

let your moon shimmer

show off your belly dance

sing sing sing your love

be a magnolia

how can you allow

evil sadness overshadow

your nuance of life

be a superman!

expressionistic poetry by: __ade caparas manilah

wednesday 11:30pm  19 december 2018

sydney australia