native tongue

Sometimes because I speak, write, read in english, I forget that it doesn’t come naturally to me. knowing and being able to use more than one language has its advantages when it comes time to seeing life in its rich and diverse complexity. One thing that I always pay attention when I am in the process of creating something is to the voice or voices that are speaking in my head and the more I listen, the more I get out of it. This might sound crazy, but based on what I have learned from Lacan and the symbolic, I have come to believe that all of us have all the words and the tools within us to be able to express ourselves and it’s just up to us to choose the medium.
anyways, this is a poem I wrote last night, in my native/colonized tongue, one writing in a language he borrowed from the Other:

On ne vit qu’une seule fois, mais c’est chaque jour qu’il faut mourir a soi,
je me suis refuse un toit pour toujours vivre avec toi,
quoiqu’il en soit, j’ais pas de doute que tu m’aimes cette fois,
adieu les hommes et leurs loix, c’est en toi que j’ais mis ma foi,
et si aujourd’hui je prends ce pas, c’est parce que pour moi il a porte la croix,
mais rassures toi, il n’y a pas a se pointer du doigt,
pour ce salut aucun d’entre nous n’y a droit,
alors laissons ceux qui veulent se faire roi,
et refaisons le chemin de la croix,
car lorsque viendra le soir,
avec le sourire tu sauras dire aurevoir.

A bientot,

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