Photography In Things

by Morthem Vlade Art



released May 10, 2002

Produced, composed, arranged and performed by Gregg Anthe.
Words by Emmanuell.D

Publishing administrated by SACEM, France.
ⓒ + ⓟ Antonn Records, 2002. All rights reserved.



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Morthem Vlade Art Paris, France

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Track Name: Extension

I always said that it was impossible
to live and be aware,
that is how we began
but we needed more.

The further forward we went,
the more we needed to imagine
other landscapes, other conquests.

I am blind on earth
but I know the way,
the same gestures repeated over
and over daily,
I know all the tastes, the artificial flavours,
I am capable of not breathing.

My hands don't grope,
I know the way
and I invent new turns,
other landscapes,
the further forward I go,
the more I must leave my habits behind.

So I imagine that things
are not what they seem,
that my life is changing,
that boredom wears off.

I always knew that I was lying
but sometimes however I am not so certain
when under my foot a hole
that I never felt appears.

Thus I can keep on walking
because I want more, always more.

Emmanuell.D / SACEM Publishing
Track Name: My Ear At Night

At night my ear
is like crystal,
I hear the skin stretch,
your heart beat.

I could forget
many things,
I could sink
so much further
but I want

to feel your breath,
not to lose an iota of you,
a second
of the life that drives you.

I could travel
to good
and bad places
always unknown
but I don't want to lose
an iota of you.

Emmanuell.D / SACEM Publishing
Track Name: Tireless Summer

I am a veil
between tomorrow and yesterday,
a changing image,
I do not exist.
In my dreams
I foresee what I lost,
that I never had,
that was never
like an immutable body,
a fragment of eternity,
a tireless summer.
I am only passing by,
I carry in me
the death of every moment,
I do not really exist.

Emmanuell.D / SACEM Publishing
Track Name: The Slope

There will come a day
when I will no longer be able to stand,
we think that day will never come
but it is not always because of old age.

Far from the pack, my words will glide
over the smooth bodies of others,
we will no longer understand each other
and I will already be long gone.

In the crowd which I never liked,
I will feel even less apt
at elbowing out a place for myself.
I’ll slide down the slope.

In the wind, under the tree,
it is ashes that will flow over my hands.

The screens of the world will show films
in an unknown dialect,
the images will be unfamiliar to me
and emotionally empty.

No tears in my eyes which no longer want to see
neither beauty nor ugliness, neither the insipid nor tragedy,
nothing will ever resemble what I loved
because I will love no more.

Emmanuell.D / SACEM Publishing
Track Name: Rooms For Tourists

A neutral place,
without shared memories,
a sitting room with sea view
where our thoughts fight.

The floor is polished,
the curtains are flowing,
how many stories have finished this way?

We turn the page,
ready to start over.

The silence is white,
cold between us,
no more sharing,
here we are no longer tied
to our past life.

Snake men sliding over the sand
to the water,
we shed our skins, washed
of the torture of the preceding hours.

Our bags, nothing important, nothing precious
since we will leave everything
in the rooms for tourists.

We turn the page,
ready to start over.

Emmanuell.D / SACEM Publishing
Track Name: On The Bank

The shadow glides
gently over the water,
forget about time
and let oneself go.
My hand is cool
like the first day,
the first feelings of tranquillity
and of suffering.
It's time to sleep
and let oneself be carried
and to die a bit
while sleeping.
The shadows slide
over my hand
which is almost cold
it is time to die.
In a year I will come back,
the air will be warm
and the weather clear,
I will go dream
by the water.

Emmanuell.D / SACEM Publishing
Track Name: Transcontinental

I lift a wing,
my head filled with the continent
invents a floating body.

It’s not that I am fleeing
because I accept what I am
with the most complete submission,
not to flee but to hover a bit
above the stock.

In fact, I don’t really take off,
a foot is always firmly secured
in my sand-filled shoe.
And I can’t really lighten my ballast
because I can’t forget what I am.

I am however able to see a bit further,
a daily contact
so that I don’t rot in place,
an instinct in the shape of a safety valve.

Using a dream to harbour a different death,
a different destination, infinite travel possibilities,
It’s a way of seeing things.

Emmanuell.D / SACEM Publishing
Track Name: Echo

When I woke,
you were there
just like in my memories;
a being born of me,
of the ocean that moves
while I sleep.
You are the flame that flickers,
visible only
in the darkness,
in the secretive, isolated world
that men create.
An uncontrollable multiplication
of your image,
of the objects you loved;
the echo of your voice like a ball
rebounding on the walls.
The water swallows you then spits you out,
and on it you dance like a puppet,
your hair was nothing but seaweed,
you are no longer there,
there is nothing left.

Emmanuell.D / SACEM Publishing
Track Name: Traces

I touch the threads of sleep
like a thick mass of black hair,
like in times of plenitude,
a clean, white mattress.

I don’t want to go back in time
but to be able to feel again
that all is not lost
like the time when war
was a pastime.

To do things with pleasure
and without constraints,
I don’t know anymore
and I remember
how impossible that would have been
for me before.

Seeking, always seeking
a way around the deadlock,
seeking the fatigue
that is deserved and appreciated
at the end of a humid and sunny day,
I don’t know anymore.

Emmanuell.D / SACEM Publishing
Track Name: Against The Current

Passion for life,
a nice headline but misleading,
you have to be motivated,
show off a bit.

Our cells follow
their concrete nature
but we cloud the tracks,
not very grateful
towards this system,
the journey of blood.

Like packaging
come dances and cries,
faith and trances.
Fire burns a few instants
and the feeling of emptiness
creeps back in.

Each day, a new spark,
each day failure during sleep,
each day a crowd leaning toward hysteria.

Cells swim
against the current
to give an impression of vertigo,
a vague interest in life.

Emmanuell.D / SACEM Publishing