tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-11183330924140034712024-03-18T17:37:25.086+01:00LES RIVAGES DU RIMAGEChristian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.comBlogger7551125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-56972978611428582292024-03-18T06:00:00.010+01:002024-03-18T06:00:00.249+01:00HAÏK(aill)U<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">Pour tracer sa route, la nostalgie n’est pas le meilleur des bâtons de pèlerins.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-69318811896244320322024-03-17T06:00:00.010+01:002024-03-17T06:00:00.133+01:00HAÏKU SENSIBLE<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">Pour trouver du sens aux choses, il faut soi-même savoir jouer des siens.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-90959941382408510392024-03-17T05:43:00.002+01:002024-03-17T05:43:00.136+01:00ANONYME<div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times; font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Texte proposé pour l’exposition de M. Falgas</span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: right;"><i style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">« </i><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">Les Nouveaux territoires </span><i style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">» (Argelès-Gazost, janvier 2023)</i></div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Parmi des visages sans vie et sans regard,</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Tout seul et inconnu. Sans un mot en partage.</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Et par les rues courues de quidams sans âge</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Se déroulent mes jours, là, sous mes yeux hagards.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Je suis insignifiant et indigne d’égards.</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Oui, partout étranger et ailleurs de passage,</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Je fuis des heures qui me laissent en leur sillage.</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">La vie ordinaire. S’en plaindre, c’est ringard.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Paraître personne ici, las, c’est exister.</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Et à quoi bon être : il suffit de persister</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">À être sans fard ni fond. C’est de bonne guerre !</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Pourquoi vouloir sortir de la banalité ?</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Sois comme les autres : commun et vulgaire…</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Pourquoi avoir une vraie personnalité ?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTbLtpTUeVA-5xdF6iA8yK-4yoLdMsDcs_FTVTVwBIfho5DubbRqLqHF4Uro6gmhCl26cqRFiSy-Un86UcVAnsN2pheLQ8Lkc6e9fp2zbqyjH3YLeflM2l1t375M8bdsUyjreMYkYv-OJJ8rta3eB9WYBnNUby5BluxZeVBuTSnQcejsjLRpfOzx0k7w/s2000/D.%20Anonyme.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="1627" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTbLtpTUeVA-5xdF6iA8yK-4yoLdMsDcs_FTVTVwBIfho5DubbRqLqHF4Uro6gmhCl26cqRFiSy-Un86UcVAnsN2pheLQ8Lkc6e9fp2zbqyjH3YLeflM2l1t375M8bdsUyjreMYkYv-OJJ8rta3eB9WYBnNUby5BluxZeVBuTSnQcejsjLRpfOzx0k7w/s320/D.%20Anonyme.jpg" width="260" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-14334515726837960152024-03-16T06:00:00.012+01:002024-03-16T06:00:00.137+01:00HAÏKU SOURD<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">Le silence n’est pas le fruit d’une absence d’autrui mais d’une présence de soi.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-60047894062284884262024-03-15T06:00:00.011+01:002024-03-15T06:00:00.137+01:00HAÏKU DE BONHEUR<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">Dans notre monde, on veut à tout prix être heureux alors qu’il coûte moins d’essayer de ne pas être malheureux.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-85117824053439463102024-03-15T05:35:00.000+01:002024-03-15T05:35:00.247+01:00MA VIE DE FEMME<div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times; font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Texte proposé pour l’exposition de M. Falgas</span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: right;"><i style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">«</i><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"> Les Nouveaux territoires </span><i style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">» (Argelès-Gazost, janvier 2023)</i></div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Ma vraie vie commence, c’est dans mon horoscope,</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Où finit, nous dit-on, celle de Cendrillon :</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Je suis son égérie, sa muse, son million,…</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Alanguie, je n’ai qu’à poser, comme en syncope.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Moins abeille ou fourmi que cigale ou grillon,</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">je ne pense jamais à demain, à ma place…</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Mes jours pareils passent mais jamais ne me lassent.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Ma jeunesse pousse comme blé en sillon</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Quand d’autres filles comme moi, hélas, écopent,</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Vivant un temps tout en tirets, en apocopes,</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">En parenthèses,… soumises à un taurillon.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Mais elles sont chrysalides, et moi, papillon :</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Tout ce qu’il attend de moi : que je me prélasse.</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Je suis son modèle. C’est lui qui me délace…</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(11, 83, 148); color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Mais un jour finiront ces heures où rien n’achoppe.</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Je ne serai plus sa princesse, son million,…</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Où commença, dit-on, celle de Cendrillon</div></span><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Ma vie finira… malgré tous les horoscopes.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5c5XLypzsiRd97D8MkcRInlh2SisRpNHgo1wZ4QdYtR3j5eF1ErtQCdaY_bKKmY11IMKetzpts2CxrXd15bR2uvSgdVXwVmilQS7cgmG1YiEeo3UlpJFBsUDwuA6UbXxtWAz5dAwwEhq_3nJYT_p6sOlx7ByYijp_uCCKqmVJG6NHrbPcnVWelyfw7Q/s2417/4.%20Ma%20vie%20de%20femme.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2417" data-original-width="1896" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5c5XLypzsiRd97D8MkcRInlh2SisRpNHgo1wZ4QdYtR3j5eF1ErtQCdaY_bKKmY11IMKetzpts2CxrXd15bR2uvSgdVXwVmilQS7cgmG1YiEeo3UlpJFBsUDwuA6UbXxtWAz5dAwwEhq_3nJYT_p6sOlx7ByYijp_uCCKqmVJG6NHrbPcnVWelyfw7Q/s320/4.%20Ma%20vie%20de%20femme.jpg" width="251" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div><div><br /></div>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-77194013776686908152024-03-14T06:00:00.009+01:002024-03-14T06:00:00.137+01:00HAÏKU D’CHAPEAU<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">L’urbaine galanterie est la forme la plus policée de la politesse.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-44532637142213877832024-03-13T16:52:00.008+01:002024-03-13T16:52:00.134+01:00HAÏKU APRÈS COUP<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">Avec le temps, on a de plus en plus pour nous consoler d’être de moins en moins.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-81768632856024224912024-03-13T05:53:00.025+01:002024-03-13T05:53:00.259+01:00VIE NOCTURNE<div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Texte proposé pour l’exposition de M. Falgas</span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: right;"><i style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">« </i><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">Les Nouveaux territoires</span><i style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"> » (Argelès-Gazost, janvier 2023)</i></div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Dessous son enduit de suie la ville, la nuit,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Vibre et vie, jusqu’aux lueurs fanées de l’aurore ;</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Empli de baratin, que les néons dorent,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Ce réduit n’est habité que de vain, de bruits,…</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Tout y est fortuit, on ne vit qu’aujourd’hui :</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Chaque moment, ami, s’appelle « maintenant » ;</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Qu’importe la pluie dans ce carême-prenant !</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Dessous son enduit de suie la ville, la nuit</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Invite en son puits noir Cendrillons badinant</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Ne craignent pas minuit et hâbleurs fascinants… </div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Tant pis si en son circuit, on se mal conduit !</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">On ne produit qu’un fruit : la vie en usufruit !</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Courte et en artifices, elle va, maintenant</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Debout ceux dont le labeur est aliénant.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Dessous son enduit de suie la ville, la nuit</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">À laquelle s’adosse le marlou et le lieutenant</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">De police joue aussi, dehors, aux incontinents,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Car la solitude jamais ne s’y ennuie.</div></span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsdZRBFyoVfbjEBhjhWVgP1bmMKkQt7lI-NfecT8hMvT9Y6GzxZMaM-efT1VFzsELoASmOmP7DVKlloal8__XRfY3crPQu6Nms-jWXAaGqR3C5Q4amgg5XdHSCdbCeEPunhxaA487C1h4XdvEkbwAssFQAgiHjebp2NoZS4zPq57EXwMLMsaq9-0Uhyg/s1801/3.%20Vie%20nocturne.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1408" data-original-width="1801" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsdZRBFyoVfbjEBhjhWVgP1bmMKkQt7lI-NfecT8hMvT9Y6GzxZMaM-efT1VFzsELoASmOmP7DVKlloal8__XRfY3crPQu6Nms-jWXAaGqR3C5Q4amgg5XdHSCdbCeEPunhxaA487C1h4XdvEkbwAssFQAgiHjebp2NoZS4zPq57EXwMLMsaq9-0Uhyg/s320/3.%20Vie%20nocturne.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-41512309119922905132024-03-12T06:00:00.011+01:002024-03-12T06:03:10.864+01:00MES TROIS HAÏKU<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">Le nom de mon nouveau show ? « <i>Effroi </i>» !</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-87144709260654895812024-03-11T06:00:00.012+01:002024-03-12T06:02:26.835+01:00HAÏKU D’BOUQUINS<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">C'est celui qui lit qui est !</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-53228846641028657052024-03-11T05:47:00.025+01:002024-03-11T05:47:00.136+01:00LIBERTÉ<div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Texte proposé pour l’exposition de M. Falgas</span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: right;"><i style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">«</i><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"> Les Nouveaux territoires</span><i style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"> » (Argelès-Gazost, janvier 2023)</i></div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Nul ne me connaît et personne ne me juge</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Je fais ce que je veux quand l’envie m’en prend,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Et mes jeunes printemps, tant pis si ça surprend,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Resteront de folies le plus beau des refuges.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Oui, je me permets tout. Après moi, le déluge !</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Je ne m’interdit rien. Je vois, je veux, je prends !</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Je fais comme il me plaît et sors souvent du rang.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">L’hiver n’est pas pour moi. Tant pis pour le grabuge !</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Ça, je te dérange d’être comme je suis.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Je suis étrange car personne je ne suis.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Qu’as-tu à redire ? Et qu’as-tu donc à médire ?</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Ne suis jamais soumise et jamais asservie</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Et peux te prédire que tu vas me maudire</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Mais qu’importe : moi je vis, quand toi tu survis !</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4lskU0yhJLG4VeDUNeDRxpO_RHDjtFb8habxFW6_pAurfCXc04UQa_vr6ZaxCFbmnp4jDR6KY0FeivAePtUcEEDpmaELXFoMHT0oGipJYkGV6QbjznTX9Twdzpjk4NV6rorl19Z4oZm8nRRK1h6hGVZS2-CNz45ApMuYoe0_VvQpKBu6QbWRrn5EIQ/s960/C.%20Liberte%CC%81.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="792" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd4lskU0yhJLG4VeDUNeDRxpO_RHDjtFb8habxFW6_pAurfCXc04UQa_vr6ZaxCFbmnp4jDR6KY0FeivAePtUcEEDpmaELXFoMHT0oGipJYkGV6QbjznTX9Twdzpjk4NV6rorl19Z4oZm8nRRK1h6hGVZS2-CNz45ApMuYoe0_VvQpKBu6QbWRrn5EIQ/s320/C.%20Liberte%CC%81.jpg" width="264" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-64256949336265460812024-03-10T06:00:00.010+01:002024-03-10T06:00:00.140+01:00HAÏKU RÉFLEXIF<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">Pour plaire aux autres, on est souvent prêt à se déplaire à soi.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-24733333868075604502024-03-09T06:00:00.010+01:002024-03-09T06:00:00.141+01:00HAÏKU FINAL<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">La vie use surtout qui n’a pas su ou pu en abuser.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-73893709016826032142024-03-09T05:30:00.021+01:002024-03-09T05:30:00.129+01:00LA VILLE EN COULEURS<div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-family: times; font-size: small; font-style: italic;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">Texte proposé pour l’exposition de M. Falgas</span></span></div><span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: right;"><i style="font-family: times;">«</i><span style="font-family: times;"> Les Nouveaux territoires </span><i style="font-family: times;">» (Argelès-Gazost, janvier 2023)</i></div></span></div><div><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: times;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;">La ville, à l’envie, met des couleurs dans ta vie</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Pour peu que tu refuses, pour toi, les costumes</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Tristes et tous les tons ternes qui ont asservis</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Tes pères et tes pairs restés, eux, dans la coutume.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Alors seront finis le stress et ses nervis ;</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">La solitude bannie, on pourra enfin vivre,</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Loin des gaz, des sanies, l’esprit et le cœur libres.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Tu peux si tu veux ôter l’urbaine amertume</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Et rallumer le sépia de ces ciels lavis,</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Crever, à ton gré, tous ses obscurs apostumes</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">D’un grain de folie, sans demander nul avis…</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Ainsi, au plus sombre ennui, la ville ravit</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Ses ombres lourdes, froides et grises qui givrent</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Toute volonté, celle qui anime nos fibres.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Car la lumière y pleut, sans aucun préavis,</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">- Sur les murs, les toits, le béton et le bitume -</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">En lettres aux cent couleurs ou en lignes suivies,</div></span><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">En fleurs noctambules dans l’écume des brumes,…</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1MKxRf1AtR0ssA5tdtRD6xXKR_iSVIe4VP3QLQlRCw9mEeXQ1UmK2XGvYsiNJ4gB1CFIm_Lcw73cDlhc9vZl7lr5KvR1XX15SF1h2H4MyWXLDTLVBf6iH1CjAn7ijyMNDW_hKApF5535oHlU_E2sFhrKzFCu0T6TNeK1SdO8GJ2UjalUyTG4qJwh8A/s1870/2.%20La%20ville%20en%20couleurs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1508" data-original-width="1870" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY1MKxRf1AtR0ssA5tdtRD6xXKR_iSVIe4VP3QLQlRCw9mEeXQ1UmK2XGvYsiNJ4gB1CFIm_Lcw73cDlhc9vZl7lr5KvR1XX15SF1h2H4MyWXLDTLVBf6iH1CjAn7ijyMNDW_hKApF5535oHlU_E2sFhrKzFCu0T6TNeK1SdO8GJ2UjalUyTG4qJwh8A/s320/2.%20La%20ville%20en%20couleurs.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></span></div>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-78528704084168459082024-03-08T06:00:00.008+01:002024-03-08T06:00:00.135+01:00HAÏKU DE PROVERBES<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394; font-family: times;">Si « <i>l’oisiveté est mère de tous les vices</i> », le travail n’est pas père de vertu.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-63314537032779085142024-03-07T06:00:00.000+01:002024-03-07T07:57:30.636+01:00HAÏKU CIVIL<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">Pour être élégant habillez votre politesse de gentillesse.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-17571393986659552552024-03-07T05:32:00.004+01:002024-03-07T05:32:00.182+01:00SOLITUDE<div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: small; font-style: italic;">Texte proposé pour l’exposition de M. Falgas</span></div><span style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: right;"><i style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">«</i><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"> Les Nouveaux territoires </span><i style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">» (Argelès-Gazost, janvier 2023)</i></div></span></div><div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Me voilà à errer parmi des foules rances,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Seul, au milieu du bruit et de l’agitation.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Et, tout seul, au sein de ma propre habitation</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">J’existe à ma façon, loin de leurs apparences.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Je vis, ici, dans la plus stricte indifférence.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Libre et seul. C’est là mon urbaine condition.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Oui, seul, parce que c’est une saine ambition,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Le seul choix pour vivre serein sa différence.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Le gris du béton donne le ton à mes jours ;</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Le noir du goudron à mes nuits. Presque toujours.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Ainsi file mon temps, passe ma jeunesse,…</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Sous un ciel abandonné par toute clarté,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Ainsi courent les heures, sans plus de tristesse,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Pour remplir le vide des mes jours désertés.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkztw57IGKz3LdB00NsCjVWUwyf31KjOy3CoUmQXW5lHm_x8WLLdZw0A4NiJCp221gQyjilNriH0Dtau9AuqQGbVcR8qYQI-IFDxkQc5QdgKv83EH5edO1rDnulnQQ7Olmavzt6p6GmpqqLJnPqPsGPgCTFIQQ1wiccz4SqXfEu90xWgojd0ZE0N04qg/s2166/B.%20La%20solitude.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2166" data-original-width="1824" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkztw57IGKz3LdB00NsCjVWUwyf31KjOy3CoUmQXW5lHm_x8WLLdZw0A4NiJCp221gQyjilNriH0Dtau9AuqQGbVcR8qYQI-IFDxkQc5QdgKv83EH5edO1rDnulnQQ7Olmavzt6p6GmpqqLJnPqPsGPgCTFIQQ1wiccz4SqXfEu90xWgojd0ZE0N04qg/s320/B.%20La%20solitude.jpg" width="269" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-15267077865394465612024-03-06T06:00:00.008+01:002024-03-06T06:00:00.154+01:00AÏKU’MUN<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">Dans le cadre d’une démission collective la seule rémission est individuelle.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-44102954924653500662024-03-05T06:00:00.010+01:002024-03-05T06:00:00.257+01:00SAL’HAÏKU DU TEMPS<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">J’ai commencé à vieillir jeune pour pouvoir rajeunir ma vieillesse.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-39021220678306628182024-03-05T05:40:00.000+01:002024-03-05T06:32:07.196+01:00LE PLUS BEAU JOUR DE MA VIE<div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Texte proposé pour l’exposition de M. Falgas</span></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times; font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: right;"><i>«</i> Les Nouveaux territoires<i> » (Argelès-Gazost, janvier 2023)</i></div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Au bras de mon promis, en robe plus que blanche,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Je vais. C’est le plus beau jour de ma vie, pardi.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Dans tous ces falbalas, il faut pas que je flanche.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">C’est l’apothéose. Je suis au paradis…</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Oui, ce ne sont que rires et joies en avalanche</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Pour tous ceux venus me voir, pour fêter l’instant</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">D’un « événement » qui suspend le fil du temps.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Aujourd’hui, je saute le pas et ça déclenche</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Plaisir, émois,… mais tout m’arrive comme assourdi,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Irréel, comme un rêve un long matin de dimanche.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Le sourire figé. J’ai les sens engourdis.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Dans ce décor austère, je sens que je tranche.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">Chez ceux venus me voir on attend le moment,</span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Le «<i> oui </i>» qui viendra fait déjà pleurer maman.</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Elle parle du temps où s’arrondiront mes hanches :</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">Ce jour-là, elle sera, elle, au paradis !</span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Mais cela ne me tarde pas pour être franche.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Et si je faisais une connerie, là, dis ?!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXf7zQDmKQjE7Kh2gFW7-YL3H_1wqewEhY9w1WZHEoNkaCI9ITuuf12932uc15AJNM0X5uvG0FcBK-BBaTX8rIfSdEpTiB1-qVlZUOCPaxiGFo-zQz4HJRYG7RKKzA26zSWY3Bszs-rm48aGGdsqVyv1Y3UsL5pvyaX4czITOAtEMa1LBYIXO4fdbyHg/s2119/1.%20Le%20plus%20beau%20jour%20de%20ma%20vie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1786" data-original-width="2119" height="270" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXf7zQDmKQjE7Kh2gFW7-YL3H_1wqewEhY9w1WZHEoNkaCI9ITuuf12932uc15AJNM0X5uvG0FcBK-BBaTX8rIfSdEpTiB1-qVlZUOCPaxiGFo-zQz4HJRYG7RKKzA26zSWY3Bszs-rm48aGGdsqVyv1Y3UsL5pvyaX4czITOAtEMa1LBYIXO4fdbyHg/s320/1.%20Le%20plus%20beau%20jour%20de%20ma%20vie.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-56396195728699829562024-03-04T06:00:00.015+01:002024-03-04T06:00:00.159+01:00HAÏKU DE GAMIN<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">Les enfants sont un trésor qui ruinent ton portefeuille.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-36878279340765190992024-03-03T06:00:00.001+01:002024-03-03T07:21:14.717+01:00HAÏKU CON<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">Nos sottises sont bêtise aux yeux des autres.</span></p>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-4630554068751276122024-03-03T05:58:00.003+01:002024-03-03T05:58:00.140+01:00 D’ICI & D’AILLEURS<div><div style="text-align: right;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">Texte proposé pour l’exposition de M. Falgas</span></span></i></div><div style="text-align: right;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><i>«</i> Les Nouveaux territoires<i> » (Argelès-Gazost, janvier 2023)</i></span></span></div></div><div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Je suis d’ici. Tu es d’ailleurs. La ville brasse</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Tous les ciels du monde et mêle tous les accents.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Tout n’y est que couleurs et parfums embrassants.</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Et il en est certains pour ne voir là que crasse…</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Tu es d’ici. Je suis d’ailleurs. La ville amasse</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Nos différences en un beau mélange innocent,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">En un métissage des plus resplendissants,</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Que d’aucuns, hélas, ne voient que comme une impasse…</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Entre ici et ailleurs, là, entre toi et moi</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">On donne le meilleur des mots et des émois</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Sans arrière-pensée, dans la joie du partage,…</div></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="caret-color: rgb(7, 55, 99); color: #073763; font-family: times;"><br /></span></div><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Entre ailleurs et ici, ça, oui, de toi à moi</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Jouissons de ces apports qui créent un nouvel âge</div></span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;">Au fils des heures, et des jours, au cours des mois…</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDPNemZDsE2HN1eVX6ZmWE69aB54C6T3Vapj8IIq8j-OciwhYK1Clo_0YudsKj2HkHeAbNh1PmRyf0wrw-IBAGCSvEI1ZoSJc0aE72SohG6T__cVr659mdA4fZ7suoTH7j3dj01z5IMS56KsuhJxsxx7y-7XbLc-WpETNypCxvB4zS4befE8wo677vaQ/s2634/A.%20D'ici%20&%20d'ailleurs.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2634" data-original-width="2210" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDPNemZDsE2HN1eVX6ZmWE69aB54C6T3Vapj8IIq8j-OciwhYK1Clo_0YudsKj2HkHeAbNh1PmRyf0wrw-IBAGCSvEI1ZoSJc0aE72SohG6T__cVr659mdA4fZ7suoTH7j3dj01z5IMS56KsuhJxsxx7y-7XbLc-WpETNypCxvB4zS4befE8wo677vaQ/s320/A.%20D'ici%20&%20d'ailleurs.jpg" width="268" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></span></div>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1118333092414003471.post-20482972066978909222024-03-02T06:00:00.015+01:002024-03-02T06:00:00.148+01:00HAÏKU QUI SE TRANSPOSE<div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">Ce que la Recherche propose, l’industrie en dispose, </span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">la publicité l’expose, la mode l’impose, le commerce le dépose </span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">et le juxtapose aux pieds d’un consommateur qui, avec, compose </span><span style="color: #073763; font-family: times;">ou pose avant que ça ne se décompose ou n’indispose. </span></div><span style="font-family: times;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #073763;">Et l’esprit dans tout ça ? Il se repose plus qu’il ne s’oppose </span><span style="color: #073763;">quant à l’âme, si on la présuppose, elle s’est mise en pause.</span></div></span></div>Christian SATGÉhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09606110058838707200noreply@blogger.com0