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2 x SH - Shame & Shine

Traumatic experiences occur in our lives outside of our control. We don't disappear because of them; somehow, we manage to withstand and continue. Yet, these experiences disrupt the flow of time, expanding and distorting our perception of reality. Stillness and acceleration coexist, causing brutal changes - a strange parallel of shame and resilience.

Manou Fines' English poetry collection "2 x SH - Shame & Shine. Poems for Times of Transition" wants to reassure the wounded heart that resilience is part of human nature, that our soul is infinitely vast and deep and contains the source of individual healing.

NYE (2021)

To our dinner for one

2021 came undone.

Picked some flowers

on the way,

gave little baby

a world to stay.

All seasons

were just fine,

still surfing on

that golden line.

Furry leaves again bless

their old tree

and his party dress

is made with glee.

Dark trunk says

in 2022

there will be

two ways

to get through:

love’s abundance

amplified

shadow’s catharsis

rectified.

On this truly

hilarious ride,

we might

learn how

to say

family right

(and hold our

night light tight).

On NYE

time runs fast,

yet never moves by,

let’s loosen the art,

wanna do that cry;

throw some sequins

in our face

when we dance to

a dim hue with grace.

Straightened bow tie,

curled up hair:

hi and bye to dada year!

Refugee's Blues (2017)

My children are dead.
My sky turned purple red.

Where is my fire-gun?
I am searching

for my son.

I survived hell,

got tortured in my cell.
My rights ran away,

but forced me to stay.

I came back home with

a curled up tongue.
My wife said time had changed

since we were young.

I am crying with

a pierced heart,
my son kidnapped from

our backyard.

My pretty daughter,

one day, she was late,
told me frozen

that she had been raped.

And my son is lost!
How much does a life cost

to this state of murderers

who wants to get

rid of us?

My girl said when

I disappeared,

it was the police

who she most feared.

In her belly she wears the sin,
like insidious scars on her skin.

So are we running away,

still is it love guiding our

long, long way.

But where we arrive

they are fed

up with us.

Cranky people, get over

your loss!

Sad and numb is our

ambition

for a little bit of

recognition

of what we

went through,

of what we

mourn.

The only hope

is the new-born

in this foreign land

and of a criminal father.

Its destiny lies in

all our hands.

So we ignore the

nasty comments

and the negative vibe

because one day

we will rebuild our tribe.

In memory of my son and

the innocence of my daughter

are we cleaning the ground

with fresh water,

are we forgiving ourselves

that we could not protect.

We keep our secret

that we knew how to enact.

Universe in everyday life

...coming soon...

Monet

...coming soon...

What love to life does

...coming soon...

Blue

...coming soon...