You’d come to be
Aware of options,
That set you free
Of blind caution,
A right of choice
To take a chance,
Albeit with degree
Of failed advance,
Stolid to repartee
Of critic endured,
In this stage of life
Bordering mature,
When chances rife
Tho ne’er assured,
Be for good or bad
Ye can’t fail but see,
That a right of choice
Forever belongs to me!
© Jean-Jacques Fournier
It seems a long long while
Since my first September,
When I was but a child
With little to remember,
Would for a time beguile
What mind found render,
Bar be time on my hands
Allowed youth meander,
To later years September
Did too soon understand
A day there’ll be no other,
For life assured ill stands
Save to reach life closure,
Tho not too long the while
Measures a meagre stead,
From first steps to immobile
Held borders bland to dead,
Said be last of my Septembers!
One comes to terms
With nocturnal sleep,
Be cause for concern
It stays as brief keep,
Of enduring sojourn
To enjoy its breadth,
Save in transient term
Be but a short death,
That has us come back
In a day breaking way,
Tho ne’er assured fact
Let wishful thought play,
Thus so for more than a day!
You aspired listen
To words true
Of assured veracity,
But what you hear
Be voice at odds,
Self-served askew
In object wanting,
That extends far
Of wisdom’s reach,
While our elect
Said meagre choice,
Of dubious advocate
Adversely foists,
Erroneous postulates
On beings hopeful,
Held beyond limit
Of noetic tolerance!
Poetry on a Canapé 