Answering, or rather echoing Kit Kelen’s poem    #510 — edge-phobe’s (things fall off)        ( The DailyKit)


[after an older version posted on 365+1 project ]


Adam's Apples: Flower of Kent *  PRIDE COMES BEFORE A FALL


It’s no myth. Flower of Kent is an apple. It could have been a name for the Full Moon if Newton had been a poet. Poets, but not only, see attraction as the ability of falling. Thus, call it collision, gravitation, or not, living on earth one must accept that it entails the process of falling. Alive or not, “things” and people fall.

It’s no surprise. It’s always possible. The phenomenon repeats itself billion and more trillion times a day. This rule is said to be universal.

Logs fall and it’s a matter of sleeping.

Breads fall for butter’s sake.

Stones fall which weigh depend on rage rather than decay (-decline  -degradation  -downturn  -disfavor -disgrace … won’t be studied here).

Fallen people may be lying and resting in a tomb—from the French noun tombe itself being  derived from a verb: tomber. Meaning to fall. Whatever -diving               -stumbling   -tripping up or over is performed. Whatever -blow  -bomb  -imbalance    or  -shot    is the cause.   (delete as appropriate).


You fall  -at  -away   -back   -behind   -below   -beneath   -between   -by   -flat   -for   -from   -heads over heels   -into   -off   -on   -out   -outside   -over   -prey to   -short    -through   -to   -toward   -under …   -within…

It might concern -hurdle   -holes   -traps   -cracks   -stools   -wayside   -bonds  -job  -hook   -line   -sinker   -grace   -love   -heir   -heap   -line   -illness   -power                             -clutches   -disuse   -place   -hands   -eyes   -clouds   -trucks   -laps   -map  -wagon  -sword   -ground   -feet   -knees   -hard   -times   -face   -bed   -favor   -spell   -bits and   -pieces … -floor …

It’s important to have it free.

Never forget: the bigger they come the harder they fall.

Provided you can read I don’t mind this to fall on deaf ears.


CALL IT -THING (L’appeler -chose)


After a drawing by Anny Pelouze which title is 

         « Eclats de temps »  ( splinters of time)



            Call it -thing 


Before there was any thing

there must have been some thing.

It might have been a mere only thing

 an essential thing

not a whatever thing


Some call it Motion

others call it Energy     … Love       God …


I will name it Wind.

Made of so many fluctuations it shapes an entire universe

with its so many vortices   whirlpools    

ending up with Wind as Mind

which allows me to become co-creator

of my living something.

Inward the fire winds and minds feed

inside what is called my body.


            L‘appeler    – chose


Avant que toute chose soit

il doit y avoir eu quelque chose.

Peut-être une simple et unique chose

une chose essentielle

pas n’importe quelle chose


Certains l’appellent Mouvement

d’autres l’appellent Energie    … Amour        Dieu …


Je le nommerai Vent

fait de tant de fluctuations qu’il compose un univers entier

avec ses nombreux vortex    tourbillons

qui finissent à partir du Ventà forger un Ment(al)

et je deviens cocréateur

de mon quelque chose vivant.

Dans son intime le feu que vents et mentaux nourrissent

à l’intérieur de ce qui est appelé mon corps




Responding to Carol Archer’s Sandstone Walk


(don’k ask me how this « story » came to my mind !! I guess it’s a mix of testimonies and readings I’ve stored somewhere in my memory and consciousness…)


Delivered on the shoulder of the road

you tumble down a landfill

to end up in a lukewarm puddle of water


It’s summer

you have been spending two weeks in jail


By now the gibbous moon slides out of a stormy cloud


Even though treated as a burglar

while you’re just a beggar

trying to get out of the slum you were born into

you feel in the mood for dancing


It has been months since a single drop of rain

fell from the sky

it has been months during which flames

by the thousands

have devoured ground and forests


it’s a time for celebration

and heartfelt gratitude

it’s a time for ashes to slip from memory

and desperation


At this very moment

you’re the king of the world

wading in his golden bathtub(e)


Déposé sur le bord de la route

tu dévales un talus

pour atterrir dans une flaque d’eau tiède


C’est l’été

tu viens de passer deux semaines en prison


maintenant la lune gibbeuse se glisse hors d’un nuage orageux


Bien que traité comme un cambrioleur

alors que tu n’es qu’un mendiant

essayant de se sortir du taudis dans lequel tu es né

tu es pris d’une envie de danser

Il s’est passé des mois sans qu’une goutte de pluie


soit tombée à terre

il s’est passé des mois entiers pendant lesquels

des flammes par milliers

ont dévoré sols et forêts


c’est le moment de fêter

c’est le moment de gratitude sincère

c’est le moment pour les cendres de s’échapper de la mémoire

et du désespoir


À ce moment précis

tu es le roi du monde

en train de barbotter dans sa baignoire en or



 Responding to Brian Purcell’s in a time of lockdown”


Before                                                              by Béatrice Machet

 when it doesn’t mean in front

when it doesn’t show ahead

when it looks back towards  earlier

these « before » times

were they more happy


the before masks

the before

not only perinatal and neonatal asphyxia

but also before


and globalized suffocation


before main streets were emptied

before roses and princes lived apart

on faraway locked down planets

because of covid zones


before half of the population was turned into beggars…




belonging to the past

it points out bewilderedness caused by constant belligerencies

beyong believability


before loneliness is the norm

these « before » times

were they more free


Not being owlish but nevertheless aware enough

                                                                                              I assume

before  human kind becomes wise

simultaneous bewitchments and benevolences will constitute

the « between » times

before an harmonious now begins

so we can simply be




quand cela ne signifie pas devant

quand cela ne montre pas l’en-avant

quand il regarde en arrière vers plus tôt

ces temps « d’avant »

étaient-ils plus heureux


l’avant les masques


pas seulement de l’asphyxie péri ou néonatale

mais aussi avant

une suffocation prématurée

et mondialisée


avant que les rues aient été vidées

avant que roses et princes  soient séparés

sur des planètes lointaines confinées

à cause des zones covid


avant que la moitié de la population ne devienne mendiante …



appartenant au passé

il souligne la stupéfaction due aux  constantes belligérances

au-delà du crédible


avant que la solitude devienne la norme  

ces temps « d’avant »

étaient-ils plus libres


N’étant pas devin mais cependant consciente assez

                                                                                              je présume

qu’avant que le genre humain ne devienne sage

les sorcelleries et les bienveillances constitueront

les temps « de l’entre »

avant qu’un maintenant harmonieux ne commence

pour enfin seulement être

Beatrice Machet — Short poems written on two collages

Short poems written on two collages

une usure fertile

la profusion crépusculaire

dans les vastes étendues s’affaire

jusqu’à polir des joyaux

bijoux du temps

déposés sur la friche

a fertile wearing off

the twilight profusion

busies itself in vast spaces

till it polishes gems

time jewels

laid down on fallow field


fenêtre sur un lac intérieur

plongée verticale sur un champ de vue

lumière profondément

intensément étale

Narcisse dans un coin de mémoire

soi au milieu du miroir

a window on an inner lake

vertical swoop on a field of vision

the light profoundly

intensely still

Narcissus in a corner of memory

the self in the middle of the mirror

et si           au-devant des yeux

se tenait la matière du regard

on n’y voit plus d’horizon

l’intemporel y flotte

aussi limpide qu’une eau

inondée de lumière

what about       having ahead of eyes

the gaze-matter

one doesn’t see the horizon anymore

timelessness is floating there

as crystal-clear as water

flooded with light

au creux des nuages

que l’éclaircie déchire

bien au-dessus de soi

où l’on place le rêve

au-delà de ses paysages

les métamorphoses

in a hollow of clouds

shredded by a sunny spell

far higher than yourself

where dream is placed

beyond its landscapes


Béatrice MACHET

GREETINGS FROM FRANCE…. Salut aux amis de la communauté FLYING ISLANDS !


Béatrice (Anne-Marie, Marie-Jeanne) Machet is a French born poet, living between France and the USA, whose dance lessons as a child influenced and still influence her writing. As a teen she learned a lot from the Native American point of view about Native American history and Native cultures, until she felt impregnated with them. After having been involved in the French science-fiction milieu, flirting with cartoons and magazines such as Actuel, Charlie Hebdo, Fluide Glacial, she met Jean-Hughes Malineau, a Gallimard editor, who encouraged her to begin a career as a poet. From this initial meeting, each published poetry book of hers will testify to an evolution in her writing practice. Since 2016, she is an active member of the sound poetry group Ecrits Studio (ecritsstudio.fr). At her credit some 15 books and 30 chapbooks of poetry (three of them in English) plus 7 Native American poets’ collections she translated into French, and four anthologies gathering 40 Native American contemporary poets whom works she translated into French.

She is used to collaborating with artists from all kinds of disciplines such as painters, sculptors, musicians, composers, video-makers, dancers and choreographers, and with whom she performs her poetry. She is on editorial boards of French poetry magazines such as Recours au poème, Sur le dos de la tortueLes cahiers d’Eucharis.

She is regularly granted writer residences, is regularly invited in international poetry festivals in France and abroad. She leads creative writing workshops, is called for teaching and performing in schools and colleges. She gives lectures and conferences about contemporary Native American literature. She also launched and created Radio cultural programs, poetry oriented, from 1984 to 1986 and from 2018 to nowdays. She is responsible of and produces a monthly radio program (Radio Agora, Grasse) dedicated to contemporary poetry.

Partial Bibliography- poetry exclusively

– Dire, éditions Clapas, 1998, forewords by Patrick Joquel
–Tunkashila unshimala yé ( imprégnation peau-rouge ) 1999, éditions Clapas (recorded and performed on an original music by composer Jacques Dudon) ,
– J …., éditions L’Amourier (poetry) 1999
– Eye-liner, 1999, éditions Clapas, with afterwords by Armand Olivennes
– Dyptique, 2000, éditions Clapas with forwords by Alain Jégou
– De quoi s’étonner encore de vivre, 2000, éditions Encres Vives
– Aspects de la poésie contemporaine des Indiens d’Amérique du nord, 2001, L’Amourier 2001
– Dans l’atelier d’Henri Baviera, 2001, Le Garage (MDLC 2 place Auriol 83510 Lorgues.)
– Dédicace, 2002, éditions La porte
– Canku (the way in Lakota language) with painter Gérard Serée, 2002, atelier Gestes et Traces 2002
– Muer, 2003, poetry, éditions L’Amourier
– Passage au méridien, 2003, éditions I.H.V
– L’essor et l’écart,2004, atelier Tactiles with painter Corine Léridon
– La sentinelle, 2004, atelier Tactiles with painter Corine Léridon
– DVD- painter Violette Adjimanand poet Beatrice Machet, 2004, centre d’art SEBASTIEN (LB productions)
– Tribus, 2005, Atelier Gestes et Traces with painter Gérard Serée
– Retentir, 2006, with painter Youl
– Lumières, 2007, with painter Youl
– Le felo va parler, 2007, bilingual chapbook, Amastra-n-Gallar (Galicia España)
– Lacérer, 2007, éditions La Porte
– Der de Dre, 2008, éditions Voix
– Possible, 2008, with painter Youl
– Ouest-Nord-LAZA-Est-Sud, 2009, bilingual chapbook, Amastra-n-galar)
– Une poire pour William, 2009, with painter Youl
– Marge, 2009, éditions IHV
– Melisma, 2010, éditions SD with painter Sylvie Deparis
– Venus rising (poetry anthology 2009, The Bass Press, R and R editors,

– Hadziin, 2010 (The one Who Speaks in Apache Language), CD, poetry spoken words  with composer Michel Chaupin
– ACCOM(plissements), 2011, CD,  poetry performance recorded while granted a writer residency at « la maison de la poésie transjurassienne ».  
– Le livre M, 2013, crafted book exhibited at la maison de l’artisanat d’art in Marseille and in la maison Carré in Nîmes.

– Macao, A Grey Epic (bilingual), 2014, ASM Press
– Les Gens-pierre, 2014, with painter Henri Baviera
– Les Lacets, 2014, atelier Gestes et Traces, with painter Gérard Serée
– Rupture en quatre leçons, 2014, éditions Approches
– For Unity (bilingual), 2015, Pocket Book, ASM Press
– Salse sans pareille, 2016, éditions Le petit véhicule
– Du dernier souffle, 2017, éditions du Frau
– Les mots fendre, 2017, éditions Lieux Dits

– Der de Dre addendum, 2017, éditions Voix

–Jamais le dernier souffle, 2018, éditions Peycervier, with Painter Henri Baviera

– Tirage(s) de Tête(s), 2019, éditions les Lieux Dits

– Crypto, 2019, bilingual, with poet Dominique Hecq, Pocket Book-ASM Press

After Gertrude Stein, coming out date April 2021, Dancing Girl Press


NEW WORK – (in progress, just a beginning) 


1 )

Was it a-

       or b-


                           thus I hit the slopes of the alphabet

a true bare-footed race

with faux-pas on slippy pebbles

the very one I spitted

after having practised


and breathing exercises …

there followed a free ride

a screeching slalom

between letter-poles

a super-giant choreography

as if a baited tale was told

in the tracks of caged slides 

as if a vision

could heal sounds and meanings

through a world record expression

2 )

« One exerts power

                       over time

when one masters distance »

very well then

deciding to keep its distances

staying away from ticking and stopwatch

my tongue exerts power.
But are words manageable

as for language

… when is it fully realized ?
when is it born

with its flow of blood and tears

from a womb called self ?
and how the speed factor

gives a voice its energy… ?
Relatively intruder enough


in the form of larynx and palate

is the poem made power


and blown out like a mushroom cloud.

3 )

this is a tiny here

this is a vast now

on a crest of wavy time when

every second is sup-

posed to up-

sidedown your mind-will

which is swallow-

ed sliding and plunging in-

to an ocean of enzymes and acid

so that every protein of it is broken down

     when your lop-

     sided stomach is digesting prim-

     al scream till it is dis-

     mantled and pour-

     ed down the guts
a creepy wreckage stuck

in what will be its last curly den

     and then …