– from here to there –
Getting nowhere In particular, Holds baby bare Not yet articular, From here to there Out of the picture, Be on the run In quest of a live future! ode to neglectful man lost...
Music - Excerpt of Johann Sebastian Bach, prelude-no-1-in-c major... Audio - Recital, by Jean-Jacques Fournier ... Imagery - Assorted, personal & public ...
© Jean-Jacques Fournier July 30, 2021
I see faces
In all places,
That be sad
Virulent cases,
At risk clad
Be complacent,
Soon but mad
Past indifferent,
Of no matter
Part of current,
Fitting this façade…
Empty faces
That be traceless,
Yet embraces
Find expression,
As in a painting
Of a landscape,
Speaks despair
Rather tainted,
Tho not quite bare…
Be mortal faces
Seeking refuge,
From raw places
Found in refuse,
A world so faces
In human deluge,
Held insensate
Of fellow sapiens,
They just people
Failed by bane,
Seek seen real
Despite blame,
Of slanted feel
Said man extant,
Made world surreal
Bent be he an unrepentant!
ode to fellow beings of virulent woes…
© Jean-Jacques Fournier
Art, by Picasso, Modigliani, Odilon Redon,
Jheronimus Bosh, Maurice Denis, Erich Heckel.
Music, Now – by Vexento – v2 New music, and recital
He sits to face
Across the table,
An empty space
Tho hardly able,
From time ago
The chair since bare,
Remains aglow,
To still reflect
The face he loved,
There upon the glass
Of a pale rosé…
Each forlorn day
In vain he stares,
With musing’s say
One can near feel
Her presence there,
His mind will trace
Upon that empty chair,
A memory of her face
That will not part
That special place,
Fixed in his heart…
Alas the man
Said of two glasses,
Sits so to face
As time so passes,
That empty space
He for a moment dwells,
On a memory only he can tell!
© Jean-Jacques Fournier
remembering the sadness of an habitué,
chez Lou Fassum’s grand dining,
on la Côte dAzur, France …
Easily they move
Despite the heat,
Yet mindful cool
Of body bare,
In errant dual
Fixed in a snare
On silken sheets,
Perpetuate
More hungrily
Nearing the peak,
Of paroxysm state
In soaring flight,
Now can but taste
Rapture’s delight,
In ultimate body heat!
a celebration of life
Poetry on a Canapé 