“ 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…   

          

“ Earthly Space ” – in a deadly race –

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“ Earthly Space ”

                                  – in a deadly race –

Pending we find

Be fated space,

Afore we in time

Do evaporate,

Past our assign

At carnage rate,

Thus so spent

Oblivious of state,

In a desolate bent

Of what we’ve left,

In a deadly race,

Too soon reduced

To depleted place,

Of carved out caves

We’ll surely face,

In dire need to stave

Forces waiting hungrily,

Held lowly knaves,

Who’d greedily engage,

Imperiling earthly space,

Albeit by then our grave!

                                                                    written in Grasse, Fr.

                                                                              © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

 

“ The Dancer ” – be the devil upstairs –

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“ The Dancer ”

            – be the devil upstairs –

I’d know the music

Just by listening,

To the patter

On the floor above,

And the pulse

That cajoles her feet,

As she capers

To a mystifying beat,

Like it matters

To the dancer,

In whose rhythm

With melodic flair,

She so adorns

Be the devil upstairs,

To mirror,

The center of a storm

Frenzied to a level,

That shan’t be mistaken

As the dancer who conforms…

 

She’s the devil I can tell

Tho follow I with ease,

For her dance casts a spell

Which leads me to believe,

I’m destined to her hell    

If she decides to leave,

Yet just so I can listen

To the rhythmic patters,

Bent by that devil upstairs

Be the dancer who so matters!

 

                                                   inspired in Vence, Fr.

                                               written in Sweetsburg PQ.

                                                         April 21, 2003

 

   

“ If Life Should Be Forever ” ~ might this hold being free ~

If one could live forever

Might this hold being free,

Or confuse so the measure

Of a wishful thinking spree,

Else be of bent mind clever

The while deny bid’s plea,

To objurgate a moot debate

On life spans short decree,

By the gods of fixing fate

Who exact this mortal fee,

On mankind destined state

Beckons thus eternal sleep,

Tho beg delay expiry date

We’ve to exit existence’s keep,

Lest this life should be forever!

 

“ Man Shapes ” ~ extant state ~

I see man shape

His self-decline,

Tis no surprise

Wants to escape,

This baleful bind

Free of bent state

Of herculean find,

His legacy spent

Now so apprised,

Suffers implied

Thus to surmise

Intervention failed

We’ll not survive,

His egoistic whims

Shaping our extant state!

“ Astray ” ~ in pro tem way ~

 

Without I stray

From held entomb,

Said salutary stay,

I can but seek

Echoes of roam,

Thus to attempt

A nomad bent,

Steers me astray

In pro tem way,

Till time runs out

Of freed to roam! 

 

“ Every Season ” ~ has a reason ~

 

Every season

In nature’s bent,

Finds purpose

For renewal,

That celebrates

Each wont advent

Not as infinity’s rival

But a cycle of revival…

 

Yet we creatures

Suffer brevity

Of a single stay,

A hoped-for reach

Though time decreed

Life be held brief,

And so ephemeral

Deemed beg amend

Wouldst be in vain,

To imitate seasons

That never fully fade,

Thus likely  reason

Life then returns again!

 

“ Mirror, Mirror ” ~ on the wall ~

 

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Mirror, mirror

On the wall

Hard to show

My face at all,

You make it seem

Like it was mauled …

 

Mirror, nearer

Your torment,

Can have me cry

And looking bent,

Instead of shy                                                                     

Of seeming spry

As I had meant…

 

Mirror, closer

You discuss,

A weathered face

Made hopeless case,

As craggy crust, 

Shows in its place…

 

Mirror, mirror

You violator

Of melancholy state,

Alas to so deface

What shan’t be salved

Thru your efface,

Or torturous onguent

Inflicts a malfeasant!

 

                            written in Grasse Fr.
                                       © Jean-Jacques Fournier