Olivier Cousin – 6 poems


He could have been a poet
or he could have been a fool
Being one
in a way
he would have been both

He wouldn’t like to become a poet
for all the tea in China
he’d rather play the fool
to gather sympathy
and gain recognition

Even though he’s light-minded
and dumb he knows for sure
a most wanted poet doesn’t exist



To Samantha Wynne-Rhydderch

If you want to understand
what I live and undergo
if you wish to share my inner feelings
and a part from my burden
it is useless to shake my body
pointless to shepherd my mind around
Don’t crush my feet
don’t walk on my toes
just feel welcome
from time to time
to walk in my shoes



What a useful life is
I shan’t ever dare to utter

What a successful life looks like
I won’t be able to tell
except maybe to clumsy ears

What a satisfying life seems to be
I will only say to the night
to the wind sweeping across remote pathways
to the waves under the lashing rain
Only in the hope of learning
something from echoing secrets



Man needs maps
real maps
accurate and easy to fold

Man wishes emotional maps
easy to read
without gaps nor blanks

Man knows
the slightest confusion between
real maps and emotional maps
shall make him be
wiped off the mat



Fed up with
shapeless weeks
I’m looking for pieces
of a new liveable life
among in-between days



Every illness you suffer
makes you feel as if hopscotching
between two frontiers
or in a no man’s land where you stride
across your own life
full of fear
Between a grey checkpoint
and a bright garden
soon crucial questions arise
Have I loved enough?
Have I told enough
how much I have loved?


Olivier Cousin was born in 1972 in Brittany (Western part of France) where he teaches French. Among his poetry books, the most recent are: La Hache de sable et autres poèmes (La Part Commune, 2015), Fragments du journal d’Orphée (Kutkha éditions, 2014). He has also published novels, short stories and children books. He has also translated into French two books of poetry by the English poet Roy Eales who now lives in Brittany. And sometimes he writes strange poems directly in English…
See :


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