“ Reaching ” – the edge, of life’s design –

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“ Reaching ”

  – the edge, of life’s design –

        

I’ve journeyed    
Far and long,
At times hurried
Thus to prolong,
That meagre stay
Palpably foregone,
A notable evidence
Recall diminishes,
By limited passage
Thru hazy distances
Now on the ledge,
Blurring defines
Life may allege,
Tho be insistent
Prays on a mind,
To suffer existence
In dwindling time,
Tho but an instant
By recall’s decline,
Reaching the edge
Of life’s design,
Fate shan’t pledge
Be shadows assign,
To offer life hedge
On finale it deigns,
Past illusion held fast
As image perceived disappears,
In the dusk of a lifespan once cast!  

  
              © Jean-Jacques Fournier 
    
                  written in Sweetsburg
                                 October 25, 2020
 
Imagery – MD & private collection –
Music - exerpt from Rimsky-Korsakov's Scheherazade op.35

“ A Hyphenated World ” – held fitting guise –

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“ A Hyphenated World ”

                   – held fitting guise –

‘Tis a fitting guise

A hyphenated world,

Of hyphenated people

Barely joined together,

By shortest of lines

Save in desperate times,

If but to stay alive

Until next apprise,

Holds indefinite man

If he is to survive,

Until discord subsides

Tho wanting to encage

He’ll once more fractionize,

By manipulating stage…

In a language to divide

That largely means create

A hyphenated bide,

Trusted so to populate

Heedless of unwise,

Words fixed to engage

By language brigade,

Who spreads confusion

Among the lesser wise,

Maximize demand

To maintain disguise,

Of the hyphenated men

Who power world divides!

                                               © Jean-Jacques Fournier

Photos – by Marianne D. & private collection –

Music – exerpt from Leaving, by Chet Baker –

“ Where The Lost Abound ” – desperate to be whole –

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“ Where The Lost Abound ”

                      – desperate to be whole –

In small cafes,

I sat around

Watching arrays

Of lost abound,

There but to play

Said morose lives,

That slip away

With wary anguish…

I linger here

To write of life,

That so abounds

In abysmal strife,

Till muse absconds

Urge to describe,

Their sad parade

In a despondency

That blurs its find,

Yet when about

To write the line,

Their faces fade                                                                                      

 As tho I’m blind…

So as I glimpse

This pot-pourri,

A mere semblance

Of the reality I see,

In a poor writ play

Of wretched beings,  

Moving mindlessly

Looking for a soul,                      

As they move round, 

Desperate to be whole

Thru that turbulent sea,                                                                                     

Where the lost abound!

                                             © Jean-Jacques Fournier

Music, Lazy Sunday- by Smooth Jazz

Pictures , MD and private collection

“ Friend ” – a singular entitlement –

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“ Friend ”

        – a singular entitlement –

Why do they call me friend…

What is their cause

Or purpose

To judge me worthy,

That they should levy

Such expression of regard,

Entrust this much

Responsibility,

To be bestowed

Upon my person,

Thus be asked to manage

With this impressive status…

And to this title friend

A singular entitlement,

Who finds possess

Such impartiality,

Could deem me deserving

Or indeed of capability,

To discharge such obligation

Required and implied,

One has that ability

When one is given title,

That of being called friend…

Why do they call me friend!

 

                                         © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                                                           written in Vence

                                                                                     March 19, 2002

Photos – by MD & Private collection

Music – by Elegant Saturday Jazz

Of God Creating Man – be but myth, or a fact –

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“ Of God Creating Man ”

                      – be but myth, or a fact –

Held ‘twas day seven

Be man’s world born,

From laudable quest

Thus task was borne,

Yet transcends guess

Of god creating man,

Be but myth or a fact

Or tool in mans chest,

Versus god manmade

Now needed to wrest,

For his seamless rule

Said fulfil man’s goal,

As tergiversator tool

God of manner bold,

Crafted so as to fool

Diktat of world whole

The creation to claim,

That so fixed by man

Wouldst forever reign…

 

Now mans fated state,

Be as credulous mortal

Bent so will hold stake,

In his virtual existence

Derived from a dictate,

Saved for chosen few

Who’ll share the spoils

Gleaned by adept issue,

From godly like control

Thus as ever since when,

Probes birth of fairytale told

Had alleged a god created men!                

                                                      © Jean-Jacques Fournier

          A reflection on man made religions, and held myth of a god creating man…

Images & art- personal collection

Music – exerpt from, Bach – Cello Suite No.1- Sarabande, by Mischa Maisky    

“ Façades ” – that all seem the same –

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“ Façades ”      

– that all seem the same –

You try blind

Façades game,

Front or hind

Seem the same,

As man’s kind

Some be worm,

Wriggle round

In fixed squirm,

Won’t be found

Save you’re firm,

And thus bound

To want uncover,

Man rates exposed

Thru endeavours,

Hence he compose

Of a bent measure,

With baleful mind

He works his game,

Of a greed’s assign

And without shame,

He’ll find time,

To deploy his tricks

Meant keep us blind,

Thus be man’s façades

That all seem the same!

                                                © Jean-Jacques Fournier                                                              September 2, 2020

          A reflection on alleged world caretakers,

              in these yet near leaderless times, of this year 2020…

Art, by Félix Vallotton…

Music, exerpt of Twilight of the gods – by Richard Wagner…   

          

“ The Almighty Time ” – the god to whom mortals pray –

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“ The Almighty Time ”

– the god to whom mortals pray –

A prerequisite is to be friends,

And so of our Almighty Time

Held we the naïve would tend,

Ne’er fall short to toe his line

Or fail not err that so offends,

To suffer alas its cruel assign

As this god an ultimate killer,

On a whim may find consign

Ye now be but mortal sinner,

Piteous to the Almighty Time,

The god to whom mortals pray

Tho fated their peace of mind,

Ever so far from extended stay

For an apathetic god sees deign,

If The Almighty Time gives way!

                     © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                     ode to all we who seek to stall time…

Music – exerpt of As time Goes By, by Dexter Gordon …

Photos – Independent collection…                                   

                                    written in Sweetsburg

                                        September 6, 2020

“ A Morrow ” – too soon –

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“ A Morrow ”

                – too soon –

 

Now but afternoon

In a lifetime destiny,

Whenever too soon

A morrow’s apathy,

Be angling the room

Ignoring life’s brevity,

Indifferent to gloom

Invading one’s sanity!

 

                 © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                        A reflection on life, ever fleeting…                   

                                     In the wake of an adversary,

                                     also known as annual anniversary…

Music – Funeral, by Zurida

Pictures – Personal collection

                        written in Sweetsburg

                               September 1, 2020

 

 

 

“ A Snowflake ” – at the bottom lies –

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“ A Snowflake ”

            – at the bottom lies –

Holds reason wonder,

About the others

Who first arrived,

And now held under,

Tho manage to survive,

While on the surface

The more materialize,

Layer upon layer

The scale expands,

Thus be no error

They find hold hands,

Supporting each other

To bear the strain,

Makes need to shoulder

Until snowflakes turn to rain…

 

A snowflake

At the bottom lies,

Hence be others

That too will smother,

Yet given druthers

Reach to save those left,

Spared not of shelter

From mans foulness,

However not in vain

As natures fate egresses,

Destined suffer it’s to blame

Alas until snowflakes turn to rain!

 

                                       © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                                                                                                                                                Music – Winter Night Jazz , BGM…

Photos – Personal collection …

“ Dream Merchants ” – be ne’er what they seem –

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“ Dream Merchants ”

            – be ne’er what they seem –

The merchants of dream

Be ne’er what they seem,

Hence I caution beware

If you chance let them in,

Apathetic be a risky dare

For they’ll exploit within,

As dream merchants play

Thus to get neath the skin,

That will trap you to stay…

 

Of their dreams be alert

Tho you might judge fair,

They’ll distort and divert

As you indulge their spin,

What’s at stake be aware

You may find but chagrin,

As the pawn for their fare…

 

Ye soon find be soul bare

The while merchants grin,

From their deviant affair

Best not chance ye begin,

With dreams fated unfair,

Held by narcissistic strings…

 

Dream merchants shroud

That which flogs palaver,

Fake fine weather clouds

And what gullibles bear,

Their dreams of effusion

Suggest wouldst be real,

Tho but empty illusions

With an unfulfilled zeal,

When too late ye discover

Soul they managed to steal,

Cause of true dreams, to disappear!

 

                                                   © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                   Ode to Dreamers

                           of dedication to vivid imagination,

                                    and in search of honesty…

 

Music, excerpt of Around Midnight, by Chet Baker

Art work, from Dream World images…