“ Humanity ” ~ a contradiction ~

 

I endeavour to be there

For alleged fellowman,

Whose illusionary care

Rejects an offered hand,

Has humanity in doubt

That he fails understand,

What transience is about

Links affair to be human,

Save finds a contradiction

In homo sapiens’ acumen,

As to mans interpretation

With a passion to contrive,

We’d ignored his fixations

The while we’re still alive,

Yet ‘twould be our inaction

Cause averts man to survive,

And procrastinating factions

Who’d be hell bent to divide,

Thus we’d not live to next tide!

 

                                                                             © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

 


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“ If Truth Be Told ”~ how then discern ~

If truth be told

I will yet reach,

A vision worthy

Cosmos entreats,

Not bent chicane

Of vitiate deceit,

Yet who’s to say

Man didn’t teach,

The gods sly ways,

Thus so to breach,

How then discern

Of which I speak,

Thus be held truth

Or but failed preach,

Too credible to hold

Tho history has one doubt,

Of man’s hidden truth be told!

 

                    this poem was inspired by the poem ‘Truth’

                                written by Xenophanes,

                                              Greek philosopher, theologian and poet.

 

 

 

                                                                       
                                                                                      

 

“ Man’s Hold ” ~ means to be fed ~

A singular being
Akin to whole,
Who so composed
Said worthy soul,
Be for man’s hold
Who means be fed
Criteria set at gold,
What he inclines,
Wouldst so conjure
His bidding designs,
So with wile he lures
A yet fallible mind,
However be times
Anguish will sway,
Doubt finds its way
To a vibrant head,
Where fate declines!

“ Morrows ” ~ ever nearer ~

 

Should you doubt

Life’s fleeting pace,

I’ll set you right

On lifespan’s face,

The days that burn

With barely time

To see the night,

Or a full term

Of this life’s race,

Save ye borrow

Someone’s turn

Afore the morrow,

Less fate means play

A slice of mirth,

And chose instead

A bed of earth,

Be untimely stead

Tells best not dwell,

On wasteful notions

While ever nearer be,

Those waiting morrows!

 

 

 

“ Brother ” ~ just for a time ~

 

I heard it said

Men’s fortunes died,

And later read

Near nation wide,

While few survived

Were to have cried,

Brother please

Can you spare a dime,

Alas a prelude to the times…

 

It’s now my stead

Afore I’m meant to die,

Or you’d have read

About my defunct hide,

Tho I shan’t beg a dime

Might you not now

Allow yourself to doubt,

Another’s take

On our alleged debate,

For soon too we be gone,

So spare the while alive

Just for a time,

To be that brother mine!

                                                                              ode to a lost brother