“ Fury ” – cause of chicanery –

‘Tis construe be said fury,

Tho it be of man’s nature

For mind endured scurry,

To dispel passion blusters

Afore immutable blurry,

Set off by inducing anger

Leading beyond ferocity,

That man needs to waiver

Before state leads to rage,

Born of furious behaviour

Blind to objective engage,

In lieu of mended adverse,

Which affirms declaration,

Of man’s unnoticed apathy

As to concede he’d ignored

What describes best shown,

Of claimed hell hath no fury

Like a woman said scorned,

Be man’s cause of chicanery

That ignites daubs of misery,

Thus the feed that spurs fury!

 

                                                       © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

 

 

 

 

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“ Another Minute ” – then again –

Another minute

If not shorter,

There is a limit

Eventual fewer,

A matter lends

Now then again,

For time to end

But not before,

Ye make amend

For wasted time,

We do so spend

Be it a minute,

One left behind,

Or in between

Absent of mind,

We seek to gain

What will unfold,

Even to stumble

As age takes hold,

Be taste of humble

The while unfolds,

Be another minute

Endures life’s toll,

Taken for granted

Presumes one find

Not empty handed

Tho beyond reach

Of another minute

Be wonted then again!

                                                                      © Jean-Jacques Fournier  

                                                                     ode to a very dear friend,

                                                                         Louise Fleischmann,

                                                           celebrating her Virgo Happy Birthday,

                                                                        today August 30, 2019

 

 

“ A Minute ” – now or then –

Said of a minute

Born to life,

Be a need for it

Tho enters strife,

Despite commit

To its short site,

Life persists to emit

Tho maybe a plight,                                     

Holds of portent

Yet it is swallowed,

By the hour

And this to follow,

As if to scour

Chose be the fellow,

To do another

As if led by the echo,

Of a wilful brother

Not for a minute,

Would let fate posture

To fix a mindless habit,

Of disaffected bother

Ne’er now or then submit,

Tho for but a minute, now or then!

 

                                                    © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

 

“Caligula Unbound” by Alan Reynolds

Thank you, Francina, for this thoughtful and timely introduction to the poet, Sire Alan Reynolds. The work speaks for itself, so any added elaborative wordy confirmation of worthiness, for said sire’s creation, would be redundant. The prologue alone, demands that the book “Caligula Unbound” be read, for is most inspiring and encouragingly consoling, as a reminder that the gods of the time of Caligula, allowed him but 4 years, from AD 37 to 41 to impose his evil ravages.
With a smidgen of luck the decedents of said gods, hopefully still about, may take sufficient umbrage as to deal in a like manner with our present-day Gaius Julius Caesar Trump Asinine Americanus, from whom we of the world are in dire need of relief.

Bravo to the perceptive Alan Reynolds, and to you Francina for spreading his brilliant contribution!

Poetry and Art

It’s my honour to introduce to you the book ” Caligula Unbound “, which is a remarkable new poetry book from the poet Alan Reynolds. After reading the excellent written story-telling-poems , and the striking comparison between this Roman emperor and the current state of affairs not only in American Politics , made me decide that this brilliant book by Alan needs a much bigger stage than my bookshelf. And, as you will read, I am not the only one , several readers are also enthusiastic about the book. A thank you goes to Alan who permitted me to use his introduction text and the opening poem, all rights remain to Alan Reynolds.

Prologue

Long long ago when times were unenlightened
a madman gained much power. Don’t ask how.
His twitches soon had his own Cabinet frightened.
He cajoled, barked, and bullied trying to cow
those doubting that his dubious…

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Episode 23: Friendship Through the Voice of Poet, Jean-Jacques Fournier

via Episode 23: Friendship Through the Voice of Poet, Jean-Jacques Fournier

“ In Whom We Trust ” – a pledge unyielding –

We’ll spend much of our life

Believing we’ve support,

Even whom be cause of strife

And others who purport,

Want offer pledge unyielding

Yet fail recognize distort,

Despite discernably unfeeling

Considers ‘tis of import,

With a pledge ne’er fulfillable

Bidden by beguiling sort,

For if be a trust ill affordable

Best one accepts negate,

That which faux devotees hide

In a dark they generate,

Till they detect credulous side

Of dim trust to postulate,

Would ne’er need don disguise

As sad side of man’s make,

Has ample cover for shady side…

 

Alas what trust you had,

Bore soon be brushed aside

Save be for those at ease,

With deceitful vow devised

May for a time succeed,

As a perceived guile denies

The false of it bares rust,

That has karma take a stand

On sham assured commit,

Tho ‘tis far from wonderland

Pledge adamant be must,

Tho man ne’er understands

Yet deigns find a love lost,

In a pledge tho second hand

While one must learn to trust!

 

                                                 © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

 

 

“ Don’t Stop ” – for egoist thought –

There is a part of us

That will not stop,

Tugged by the other

With egoist thought,

On all that matters

Of living life sought,

As an ultimate factor

Would dissertate not,

What the other fosters

Said vantage together,

For what soul bought

And so found garner,

As life’s integral state

Tho now to discover,

Be of dubious grace

Soul can but borrow,

Our meagre lifespan

Held bogus of equity,

Amounting to nought

Put aside the self-pity,

With a brief time allot

For extent it shall hold,

That may ne’er realize,

Dream of eon time bold

In borrowed life implied…

 

Yet want be part of don’t stop

Thus to prevent a love nought,

Who’d not shed want be alive

When life together ’tis a must,

From ye newborn to grown old

Said reaching so until near dust!

 

                                                                        © Jean-Jacques Fournier