PF detail from Pierre-Auguste Renoir - Beach Scene, Guernsey (Children by the Sea in Guernsey) - 1883;

ISSN 
1942-2067

Copyright © 2009 Pirene's Fountain.

All Rights Reserved.

Last updated:
May 2009

 

Mychèle Poitras grew up in New Brunswick, Canada’s only officially bilingual province. This is probably why she can’t seem to decide in what language she wants to write. She wrote her first poem at 10, an ode to her parents. Over the years, she has kept her pen busy, working as a journalist and more recently as a communications director. She just recently dusted off her creative pen, and came back to poetry. She loves words and the music they create in her head.  Mychèle is 42 and lives and writes in Edmundston, New Brunswick.



 

Vermilion, because I like the way it rolls off my French tongue

One word over millions.
Schizophrenic syllables scrabbling in my mouth.
Millions or multimillions bore me.
Vermillions, however, light up my sky.
Words and letters turn me into Penelope,
Pale as marble then rose red (vermilion?)
Following the will of the Immortals.
Willing the immortality of the Followers.
Words and letters transform me into Ikarius
Seeking out inspiration in the artist’s eyes.
Words and letters transform me into Odysseus,
Drowning in a scarlet sea of dreams.
Vermilion, the mythological greek crayola in my box
Scribbling the first word, lighting up the first sky,
On a bed of pinkish paper.
Please Ma’am, can I have some more vermilion?
Mon soleil est trop jaune. (My sun is too yellow.) Mon ciel est trop bleu. (My sky is too blue.)
Pour me a glass of vermilion, because I like the way it rolls on my French tongue.

October 2008

Henri Matisse the red studio 1911