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Joel Charvillat Poem
To rise above all the voices that tried to bring me down,
The gestures that wound, the silences meant to hurt.
I dreamed of a vengeance that would soothe my heart,
Healing injustices and erasing fear.
My childhood words remained too fragile inside me,
Unable to defend myself or make a choice.
Then time passed, and I understood the distance,
That everyone moves at their own pace, in silence.
But the beauties of life finally calmed me,
Reconciled me with the hours and the past.
We wish we could suspend those moments of light,
When happiness fills our whole atmosphere.
We forget about time, yet the mind remembers
That trembling fear of what tomorrow brings.
Then age advances, and retirement calls us,
A siding where our soul is quietly stored away.
As if living still disturbed the mirror,
Forgive me for having words and hope.
Forgive me for still having things to offer,
Facing the fear that comes silently to weaken us.
When the ink of memory erases faces,
I want to shout “I love you” before turning the page.
I want to give again, as long as time allows,
One last surge of life, a final promise.
And in the eyes of those who waver around me,
I see hours that tremble,
Gestures still trying to hold on.
The body hesitating, the mind thinning,
And this slow disappearance
Brushes against my own light.
So we move forward gently,
With this new attention
That the years give us
When they teach us to see differently
What drifts away,
What frightens us.
And sometimes, in this time offered,
Days take on a slower color,
As if certain presences
Slipped a little further into the light.
Time flows without waiting,
And sometimes it fades, sometimes it is born,
In a movement no one can hold back.
Joël Charvillat
Copyright © Joel charvillat | Year Posted 2026
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Joel Charvillat Poem
I am a clown with a smiling gaze,
You laugh and I am happy.
I become Zorro, defender of the oppressed,
You are free and I am happy.
I imagine myself a cowboy with a lasso,
I hold you close to me.
I am protected by all my heroes
Who live deep inside me.
At nightfall I become Pierrot,
I see the moon and I am happy.
Along the way I meet Harlequin — bravo!
I am a cloud and I am happy.
One day a Smurf, tomorrow a kangaroo — what does it matter,
I am a child with a sun-bright heart.
In the eyes of grown-ups, I open my doors,
I am a child painted with the colors of the sky.
Daddy, look at the Christmas tree, it opens its arms to us,
The earth has covered itself with snow.
With my hands I build my dream and here it is,
Just for you, a snowman.
Mickey or Donald the little duck,
I dream of a world without rain,
Filled with music and fanfare,
Opening the paths of life for me.
Frog or fish — what does it matter,
I am a child, I marvel without hesitation
At a tulip or a fallen leaf,
I am a child with a heart full of love.
Joël Charvillat
Copyright © Joel charvillat | Year Posted 2026
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Joel Charvillat Poem
Silent Escape
A light breath of wind refreshes his skin,
and the sun slowly fades away.
His gaze wanders through a violet-pink sky,
where faded clouds drift along.
Offering himself to the slow magic of the day,
the shades glide in harmony.
Silence lays a veil upon the shapes of the world,
evaporating in soft rising vapour.
He whirls, lost among immaterial beauties,
given to the immensity of space.
He lets himself be carried, his thoughts diluted in the clouds,
breathing in the sweetness of escape.
Then he drifts, guided by the mingled light of colours,
feeling weightless in the absence of sound.
It is not a dream nor an illusion,
but the quiet force of the reader who forgets himself.
To escape for a few moments…
into mute abysses where the sky glows and remembers.
— Joël Charvillat
Copyright © Joel charvillat | Year Posted 2026
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Joel Charvillat Poem
The round dance of the world is a cry from bottomless years.
Celestial waves grant me beautiful music.
In a flash the years pass, destinies drift away.
A star sparkles at the heart of time — it is magic.
Wave after wave, surging, the oceans break the rocks.
Listening to your voice, the sound of your steps, a part of me.
I feel taller; I see you again playing — it is the past.
Years are never long enough; we always run after what?
The day will come when I leave quietly, with nothing,
but a soul loaded with so much — an encyclopedia.
Above all, to share, to keep nothing, to serve what is good.
On that day, the painter of words will remain a link to life.
Poet of a time, all the strength of the wind licks my sail.
My son, the song of love flows in me — it is for you.
A glimmer in the sky carries my heart, a dust of stars.
And my brightness that night, up there, will shine only for you.
— Joël Charvillat
Copyright © Joel charvillat | Year Posted 2026
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Joel Charvillat Poem
Hello to my heart, happiness is here.
Hello to the Earth, happiness suits me.
Hello Santa Claus,
Carry my dreams to the sky.
Hello to the cat who always purrs,
Here is the caress of my velvet hand.
Hello my friend, you offer me a toy,
You awaken in me the desire to share.
Hello child, you will be my brother or my sister,
You brighten my eyes with sweetness.
Hello my parents,
One day I too will be grown.
Hello house, you protect me from winter,
You keep my whole universe.
Hello forest,
You offer us so much beauty.
Hello dance, hello song,
You cradle my child’s kingdom.
Hello wind, hello sun,
In one word or a hundred, you amaze me, you awaken me.
From the moon to the stars that sparkle,
Happiness is a cry of the heart like no other.
Hello to my heart, happiness is here.
Hello to the Earth, happiness suits me.
Joël Charvillat
Copyright © Joel charvillat | Year Posted 2026
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Joel Charvillat Poem
I am here, sitting and watching the world.
I do not flee reality — I simply let it pass before me,
like a river I do not dare to cross.
I am here, sitting and mastering my passivity,
taming this silence that serves as my action.
I do not flee — I am only a spectator,
a witness without gesture, a living being without movement.
Yet I know the world is changing.
I know the earth is warming,
that it burns with every fire,
even those lit by humans to harm.
Wars for stupid ideologies,
for a little more territory,
for a little more religious fanaticism,
for a little more wealth.
And human beings in all this?
Bodies that are moved, broken, forgotten.
Lives sacrificed as if they had never breathed.
I also know that some destroy themselves differently,
in the silence of nights,
with all those drugs that make them dream and dull themselves,
sometimes die,
as if disappearing were better than standing up for something,
as if all of this numbed them,
pulled them away from themselves,
kept them from seeing that the world is truly burning.
And this crosses every social sphere,
those who flee out of despair
as well as those who flee through performance,
those who want to forget
as well as those who want to endure,
all these humans who burn themselves out
to appear stronger than they are.
And here I am,
doing nothing.
The worst in all this
is that there are millions like me,
remaining there, motionless,
watching the catastrophe like a spectacle,
hoping someone else will stand up,
someone else will shout,
someone else will save what can still be saved.
It gives me vertigo,
makes me want to vomit.
I am ashamed of myself,
ashamed of us,
ashamed of this seated humanity
that waits for the world to collapse before finally rising.
What will we leave to others?
Ashes?
Ruins?
Regrets?
Excuses that come too late?
And I, what will I leave to myself,
to us, here present?
Only this gaze that observes the scenes,
this gaze that sees everything,
that understands everything,
but does not move.
Guilt settles in me like a shadow,
a presence that follows me,
whispering that I could do more,
that I should do more,
that I should be a spark of awakening,
a breath,
a cry,
a step.
But I remain here,
sitting,
watching the world.
And the world looks at me,
as if asking:
“What are you waiting for?”
Joel Charvillat.
Copyright © Joel charvillat | Year Posted 2026
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Joel Charvillat Poem
My steps sketch themselves in charcoal on this sunlit path.
My brushes lose their way upon the open canvas of life.
Shadows are rare this morning, and yet still awaited.
A white merges with the vast blue of the sky in a blessed instant.
Creation is an alchemy that opens the gates of paradise.
The palette, a deep breath unfolding its wings of color.
Poetry, the blender of life’s hues, shapes a shelter.
Letting these sparks of brightness slip away warms the heart.
Feeling a breeze of emotions invade us then fade.
Performing a light and steady gesture that touches the heart.
Weaving a cloth of colors to finally watch it soar.
Opening the sky to the vibrations of the purest sounds is flattering.
Perceiving a silence laying its imprint as it withdraws.
Watching this universe of tones glide quietly toward the invisible.
Sensing this lesson unfold in a hesitant gesture.
To the arpeggio of light is bound what is born unspeakable.
— Joël Charvillat
Copyright © Joel charvillat | Year Posted 2026
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Joel Charvillat Poem
He wanders along the tail of the Milky Way.
His cloud-soft steps skim the blue of the sky.
He plays with time, teases the wind, grows breathless.
On tiptoe, he brushes the squares of a hopscotch.
In deep sleep, a dream carries him toward infinity —
to see his youth again, the smiles of vanished years,
to imagine that anything is possible in the night,
to become Balthazar, finally reaching the Shepherd’s Star.
The cold of emptiness, the dizziness of a cliff he flees,
the darkness of a chasm — he screams in fear as he falls.
Agitated, sweating, gasping, he wakes on borrowed life.
In dreams, anything is possible; he travels through time.
A gentle music licks him, tames his heart.
It enters his mind, awakens the source of his tears.
The sounds crash, swirl, circle around him, flattering.
The Dream is an open-sky theatre, the Harp of our Souls.
Joël Charvillat
Copyright © Joel charvillat | Year Posted 2026
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Joel Charvillat Poem
Like a breeze licking the tops of the trees,
Like those silences that strike straight to the heart,
Like the river that believes it has tamed wild water,
Like that December morning that is not Christmas.
Like those clouds running through the blue of the sky,
Like that flower offering its beauty to nature,
Like the falling night stirring orange swirls,
Like a bird’s song fading into the distance.
Like those scents offering a symphony of freedom,
Like the Moon laying a veil of light,
Like the birth of life with no return,
Like the hand extended toward one and all.
An addition of moments that overwhelms me.
Like a prayer carried to the end of the path.
Joël Charvillat
Copyright © Joel charvillat | Year Posted 2026
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Joel Charvillat Poem
Beyond the values of time
Beyond the mountains and the valleys
Through the caresses of the wind
You are invited home.
Beyond the grey walls
Beyond the heads bowed in innocence
By the sky’s candid bird
You are invited home.
Beyond the gaze, the frozen fountain
Beyond the church, our sorrows
By this hand shaping the stone of the past
You are invited home.
Beyond the paths where leaves lie hidden
Beyond the sky filled with golden dust
By memories faithful to our thoughts
You are invited home.
Beyond the sensations of what is already seen
Beyond the whirlwinds of what will not return
By the gentleness of a child
You are invited home.
Beyond all hatred and refusal
Beyond ignoble hypocrisy
By the one who suffers, cast aside
You are invited home.
Beyond hidden poverty
Beyond revealed wealth
By the silence that lulls our will
You are invited home.
To avoid the worst, anger
To convince, beauty
To soothe, silence
To be fair, equality.
For all this and much more
Nature keeps Freedom.
Joël Charvillat
Copyright © Joel charvillat | Year Posted 2026
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