Switching

I Performance & Film installation I

I Collaborative Project I

16mm

'And again' poem written by P.Raybaud

Performance interpreted by Philomène

Shots by P.Raybaud

And again and again

Everyday same landscape

Forever the same mistake

She stands there defying me

With her eyes of a fury

And a smile more than empty

And again and again

I look back sadly at her

All the lines become a blur

Yet the clock keeps on running

The sound of time repulsing

A mirage of me crying

And again again

Like a loop from my own tape

forever repelling shape

Naked with myself again

Heart beating with the worst pain

.better and stronger

every tic tac tic tac tic

Again and again

In the darkness of her voice

I can hear the same old noise

Soon the sound covers the tic

And my pulse follows the tac

tic tac tic tac tic

And and again

My hands then enter the dance

My fingers follow the transe

Now holding on the mirror

And the nails scratching with horror

This image I can’t ignore tic tac

And again and again

Hitting her head against mine

Making sure we are one line

Soon the glass lays at my feet

And our hands drip with the beat

tic tac tic tac tic And again.

'Poisonous Viper' poem written by Philomène

Performance interpreted by P.Raybaud

Shotted by Philomène

Poisonous viper

A white poisonous rose

Whispered her in a row

Tearing off her capillary root,

to the spinal cord

Coated with an endless thread

It’s this spine sprout of pain,

Silently sinuously

That takes seeds shapes in her carnal petals

melting like the smooth viper,

From the pulpe throat,

bitterness delights

She twists, squirms, dragging her down to the ground

Suffocating, in the appeared vibration of this putrefied soil

She plunges herself in a cacophony,

Where her hears drawn into beats

Burning is her eardrum film,

It’s drum reasoning poison

The sensitive poison of her sense.

Where unison is no more than disparity,

It’s the perpetuity of panicking noises

Inflicted in the harmonious veines of her humanity

She is this instinctive rate who gnaws the fingers’ paws She is this petrified chock whitening roped hair

Aging Delicious appearance to a perishing fruit,

Who lost the taste of life.

By this melancholic folly

Where desire is doldrums Black

To hear emptiness Black

To touch end Black

Isn't it a truthful punition ?

Or the benediction of abstention

To satisfy my illness of life

Short video Extracted from 'Switching' 16mm Film projection

Original version, available on request.

-- November 2017.