A Face

– behind round glasses –

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A Face

– behind round glasses –

Of fixed eyes intense 
Look thru round glasses,
With newcomer’s sense
Who insists on looking,
Even from afar distance 
All the while frowning, 
With ongoing insistence 
As to seek determination,
For wanting of persistent 
Might bring her a destiny,
Thus, beyond infatuation 
Of face seemingly captured,
Aversely behind round glasses!

                   © Jean-Jacques Fournier 

written in Ciboure, Fr.
October 8, 2022
               

Imagery - JJF Photo & Wikimedia Commons
Music - excerpt of Tchaikovsky - 1812 Overture 
Audio – Jean-Jacques Fournier

“ Men of The Sea ” – obdurate beings –

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“ Men of The Sea ”

                  – obdurate beings –

On steel hull ships

In days of old,

Sail hardened men

The story told,

Of rusty hearts

And tempers short,

Whose tired grunts

Would find exhort,

Spoke fitful streams

Of words bone thin…

With guarded eyes  

And gnarled limbs,

They navigate

The lonely seas,

From dust to dawn

To burn or freeze,

Despite their brawn

Will find to cower,

As Lucifer spawns

Upon their superstitions…

In life replete

With boding myths,

And nightly demons

Who so disrupt,

The tattered dreams

Said heard compose,

The damning screams

Of obdurate beings,

That be men of the sea!  

                                  © Jean-Jacques Fournier                                               

                              written in Vence, Fr                                                                                         

.                                            January 20, 2002      

 Painting, Brager, by Jean-Baptiste Henri Durand                             

“ My Bibliotheca ” – from old scribes, to new books –

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Picture, Benedictine Monastery library founded in 1074.

Music, Book The Rental With It, by Rage

“ My Bibliotheca ”

                  – from old scribes,

                                to new books –

I’ve a library

Overflows,

With books

I’ve read,

While some

Want doze,

Tho be tale

Old that flows,

To ones soul

And so wait,

For old eyes

To be fed,

A said read

Afore avid dies…

 

I’ve books

In my veins,

That beg

Till it pains,

To be written

In stead,

Of poems

I’ve bled,

Would imbue

Near all said,

Tells it true

Of held books,

Be page anew

From birth,

Reaching out

Fated to end,

In man’s final berth!

             ode per se, to books held in one’s library…

                                           © Jean-Jacques Fournier

“ I Want To Tell ” – of things that sing –

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                                                             Photo, Marianne D

 

“ I Want To Tell ” – of things that sing –

 

I want to tell

Of time that brings,

In early spring

Of things that sing,

Restoring life

To summer brooks,

With twisting ripples

Through shady nooks…

 

I want to tell

Of stars that twinkle,

In your eyes

As you allow a smile,

 I want to tell

About the wind,

Plays in the trees

To kiss the leaves,

That flutter lightly

In a gentle breeze…

 

I want to tell

Of things on wings,

Held butterflies

Who decorate the skies,

Be of nature’s doing

Hence until they die…

 

I want to tell

Of bumblebees,

Bumbling leisurely

Where they please,

As summer plies

Its mellow zephyr,

Thus till fall requires

Nature’s dance defers…

 

I want to tell,

Of world defined

As a man made hell,

May spare a mind

That so wants tell,

With love to give

Thus so to bring,

That we find live

The while we cling,

To things that sing!                                                                      

                                                                       © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

“ I Want To Tell ” ~ of things that sing ~

I want to tell

Of time that brings,

An early spring

Restoring life

To summer brooks,

Of twisting ripples

Through shady nooks…

 

I want to tell

Of stars that twinkle

In your eyes

As you allow a smile

Replace a shy disguise,

More than a while…

 

I want to tell

About the wind

That plays in trees,

To kiss the leaves,

That flutter slightly

In its gentle breeze…

 

I want to tell

Of things on wings,

Said butterflies

Will decorate the skies,

Be nature’s doing

Hence until they die…

 

I want to tell

Of bumblebees,

Bumbling leisurely

As summer plies,

Its mellow zephyr

In nature’s dance,

Till autumn requires …

 

I want to tell

Of things that sing,

The while you live

With love to give,

May spare a mind

Of man’s made hell,

A world we can but find!

 

“ Dark Eyes ” ~ wants disguise ~

 

Sun rise

Or sun set,

Dark eyes

Seek to hide,

Held upset

Under guise

Of surprise,

Finds a place,

Said disguise

Of refuge inside,

An expression to bide!

 

“ Mesmerizing Eyes ” ~ would be denied ~

There’s a look

In those eyes,

So provocative

They mesmerize,

Yet she’s denied

By vacant guise,

What suggests

View marginalized,

For his incline

Be not of accord,

With her bold design…  

 

Tho she leans closer

To tempt approval,                                       

Of her sultry lure,

It fails to entice

His lack of taste                                                       

For female delight,

Despite the pleading

That lies in her eyes,

The gods had created

To want  mesmerize!

“ I Love It All ” ~ but most of all ~

 

I love your eyes

And so your nose,

I love your mouth

Even your toes,

I love the hair

Upon your head,

I love your legs

And pubic snare

I love your breasts,

Choice be my nest…

 

I love the way

Your pelvis shows,

I love that bone

But most of all,

I love the thought

That it be home,

I love the cheeks

Of your derrière,

I love its beauty

Looks debonair,

I love it all, alas

This paradise be a fair!