Welcome to Paul Melki’s Web site

""I am Paul Melki
 I came to life Here Below in 1986.
You will never guess my mind space from my picture.
I need a little time to create corridors braided with lianas
above the networks of my brain..
Crying out, my crying out is my ID for facing the eternal,
hellish silence of solitude..
Crying out, a mad distortion of the silence.
Paul's crying out, an eccentric wail, an unabashed call to sound’s regressing..
A crying out that draws its roots from the innermost depths of my bareness, of my memory as survivor.
A hand grenade tossed at the walls of the noisy bastions where your vocal cavities officiate and are so easily opened."

 

 

When Being and Appearing

Are in the same boat

Appearing ends up having

No concern for Being

Being then idly wavers

And finds it easier to appear

And so, becomes Ill-being

In the country of semblance of being

 

 

 

 

 

Today's thoughts: (translation by John Watts)

30/09/2010

I want to taste the beauty of a life that ends

Speak out anger and rage against death

And deny the despair of youth

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Recent News

Published August 27, 2008

By Editions Calmann-Lévy

"Have this people acquired such wisdom that, rather than running up against the painful and useless desire for beauty, they have made the lucid decision to reach the confines of horror? Weary of happiness’s indecision to make itself constant, have they preferred misfortune, which, at least, can make itself eternal?"

Saturday, February 7, 2009

The Comédie française stages Paul Melki’s poems

at the Théâtre du Vieux Colombier

" Boeotians

Do not sail as well

As Lilliputians

In stormy oceans"

Read more

Visit the Sculptures section: Conversation between the sculptor Isabelle Chemin and Paul Melki
When death conceals love(the child soldier)

The done-for assassin:

"Silently, I would drink my victims’ blood.
Daily, I would tear up members, swallow bland-tasting human flesh, champ bones like a dog champs at its rage, salivate with ferocious appetite the marrow that was their life..
I would throw them to the hatred of hyenas who would crush them with their spiky teeth..
I was on a quest for ever more of them and thus did death feed me, in this country where children who are not soldiers rot away.
After 10 years of such slaughtering, the war ended and here I am starved again.
Will I need to unleash new bloodbaths to have the right to subsist?”

The demon of desire (the violent character):

“Leave this country without regret!
Get to the gracious lands of the West, where you will tell your tales of terror.
Smother them with most horrible details, they are so fond of them, they who cannot afford your pleasures, heap upon the table of their conscience all the noxious dishes.
They will lick their lips, but feign disgust.
They will forgive you and call you a victim, positive that children know not what they do.
to be devoured by an infant.”