blurred

by

Listening

       – be not hearing –

Listening

       – be not hearing –       

One may hear words
He’d want find bold,
Be bordering absurd 
Decries nervous soul, 
Fortuitously blurred 
Of insignificant dole,
Be il facilely heeding
For a fit tenuous droll,
Appear as not hearing
Will have taken its toll,
Despite ye be listening
To words fits not whole... 

Sets thy thoughts pacific
That of tranquil insisting,
Tho find lack of specific
Thus, focus but on living,
As constant ethnographic
Finds carry on persisting,
So pass on bent spasmodic
For listening be not hearing!

		Ode to thinking man...

        ©️ Jean-Jacques Fournier 

                                written in Sweetsburg
	                     November 12, 2022

Imagery - Wikimedia Commons
Music - Excerpt of Pure Imagination at 2:30 min. by Scott Hamilton
Audio -	Jean-Jacques Fournier

by

“ The Façade ” ~ of a smile ~

He wears a smile

Save no surprise,

If but the while

He means to hide,

His shaded guile

Woefully apprised,

In a conjured façade…

 

He has known wile

In angst of sorrow,

More than enough

To find not borrow,

He’d known tears

Gathered for years

Beyond subsides,

Rendered invasive

To the outer side,

Of harbouring mazes…

 

Thus the façade

Blurred in guises,

Holds few surprises

Be joy or sadness                                          

That smiles disguise,                                      

Alas but for appearance!

by

“ The Death Of Youth ” ~ an ineluctable demise ~

 

The death of youth

Be not easy

To grasp as truth,

Destined must

Be so replaced,

Rendering thus

An altered state,

Though dispiriting

As youth’s fate,

Means be alive

If not beyond,

Ineluctable demise…

 

Hence youth’s adjust

To deal with age

Be hardly just,

Made so compose

With dwindling days,

When point but reached

Life’s ordained way,

Be yet blurred concern,

To grasp the death of youth!      

 

 

by

“ Reflections ” ~ in a changing eye ~

 

I still see clearly

The laughter

In her eyes,

Oft times

Meant but to hide

The anguish

Felt inside,

Or hold back

A mother’s tears

When in its stead

A warm embrace

Would take the place…

 

The while unknown

Her sheep said black,

Set to make tracks

Upon a world untried,

He’d soon discern

Life’s perilous facts,

Bids not an easy ride…

 

When he awakens

To look back

On years ago,

The lines of colour

Have so blurred,

He barely sees

The faded image,

For what he’d lived,

Be but reflections

Left in a changing eye,

Time now finds to obscure!