(The Springs wishes to thank Fabrice for sharing his poetry with us this week. We look forward to his next time by–The Eds.)

Perhaps you resist what you can see so clearly

the words I am barely able to hold a secret

the moments I try to steal for a little glee.

Strange world we live in where love is taboo

that you cannot give everything to the one you love

without fear of a rejection that will vanish your heart.

You see, my dear, I too hold a heart in my chest

one that have been yours for more than a decade

I cannot quite see why it is so hard for you to welcome it.

I am but a little thing trapped in this world for a short while

brought to your realm in spite of myself by a strange power

I cannot fathom any other reason for my presence near you.

Today I see you from such a great distance, why

do you so remove all hope of a dream land without

the laughs, the gentle gifts, the lovely proximity.

It is a new year, perhaps an innate resolution

the space made of a void never to be filled

is it such pain for you to enjoy the future in peace?

Thus, I ask again, possibly of the universe;

what is so wrong with loving you when

I merely want to give you the peace of a loving heart?

Fabrice Poussin

I have had enough of these miserable hours

I ask that you will end my misery at her feet,

so, at last she knows I was true.

Interminable hours have gone since I met you

unaware of the gift your brought at my door

one that grew while I remained naïve of its reach.

What more may I require in this age when

the years had swiftly vanished and I remain

standing beside you, invisible, almost unknown.

Now, I ask that you take this shiny blade and

drive it through my chest until I sigh once more

resting a weary heart in your hands for comfort.

Not sure of the way to express my desire

for you, I am merely hoping to sleep and

at last be given the dream of you for all time.

Fabrice Poussin

It may not require so much to achieve peace

for just knowing that you exist

not so far that I could almost touch you

and I can close my eyes and dream of you.

The single thought that soon, I will see you

smile again as you ponder the daily tasks

makes my own soul grin with delight

and I can snuggle with this image

It is only a matter of days until at last

I will be given to the pleasure of hearing you speak

while your voice of pearls and diamonds

echoes in an everlasting song through the walls of the infinite.

And you will laugh as you always do when

a visitor happens to greet you in the morning

simply because it is you, and you enjoy the laughter

happy or not, the contagious glee takes place.

Guided by the duties at hand, you will walk in

surrounded by emails to answer, books to read

meetings to prepare and what must follow

as you plan for the evening at home and walk away.

Perhaps you will speak of the hard moments

the news, not always so good, of a distressed friend

a tear refusing to find its way to your shaking hand

and you may bite your lip to keep from a meltdown.

I know I am eager to plunge into your eyes again

to spend a few minutes cradled within your soul

so I too will smile, laugh, and speak of the sun

as it shines upon us and give you joy.

Fabrice Poussin

It has been a week and a few decades

memories impossible to erase of years

when a child, he worked the land in the

wake of a father who rarely played.

He recalls the ball games in tennis shoes

when he dreamed of the cleats his mates

boasted with the pride of a Pélé, while

they ran with the skills of a blind man.

The kid had so many hopes to be

just like the others in the village,

riding a three-speed bicycle to the woods

not the rusty wheels he assembled alone.

All the years he might have a vague memory

of the moment when none reminded him that

he too could have celebrated a birthday

if they had the time to remember his joy.

Christmases and New Years too

disappeared with little more than

an orange and a few chocolate candies

images in the mist and nothing left.

So many gifts never received, hugs never granted

memories with holes aplenty in a full world

where he saw so many smile at the presents

he would never know in a forgotten childhood

Fabrice Poussin

(Always a Stranger is the first of five we will be running by Fabrice Poussin this week. Dale is by far a better judge of poetry than I am, but I think just about anyone will see the quality in this poet’s writings–Leila)

I feel the crushing weight of all those lives

foreign to me, and I know they do not understand

the pain mine, factor that seems to define my existence.

I think of those who may have loved me once, who perhaps

care for me a little today, but they move on without looking back

they have their own lives to live, and I stay frozen as a statue.

I cannot fathom the immensity of this punishment,

a continued torture that ravages my body and soul

for decades, I have been condemned to aloneness.

To realize that I cannot be another adds to the yoke

as I am so thoroughly trapped in a life I am beginning to abhor

useless, ugly, unwanted, will it not end today?

Fabrice Poussin