Image - Wikimedia Commons
Music – excerpt of Almost Blue by Chet Baker
Audio - Jean-Jacques Fournier
ov written in Montréal
rewrote in Sweetsburg
November 30, 2022
Tho near impossible to climb
Finding the image of her face,
That meant will form in time
A face, be from an awry place,
Has thus but aging to define
To hold in morrow’s space,
For a visage fixed sublime
Be set as tho a part effaced,
In a façade in need to find
Be of memory ye do prize,
With its recall of total bind
Thus, so more than surmised,
From a failed god’s ambuscade
Who’d long forgotten to be wise,
Till such shenanigans he displayed,
To a face in morrows’ space implied
Yet not his play, tho but of nature’s say!
I see the face,
Now as in life
In inured place,
Eased of strife
To rid of waste,
As dubious rife
In rawest sense,
Like stiletto knife
Inflicts offence,
To callous tense…
As face reflects
A raced journey,
Creates an image
To fixate markedly,
Begs want end travel
Of memories passing,
Finds scold bold arrival
Of phantoms trespassing,
As tho one’s fate be trivial
In the face of an inured place,
The gods rendered us negligible!
Desperate man
Arrives in fear,
Looking at life
Traces unclear,
To face despite
He cannot hear,
Thus, he writes
Hoping it bears,
Some hint of sight
Marks he’d be there!
Tells of a social game,
In whatever happened
Be to what’s his name,
Or view face of whom
As recall slowly came,
Via beacon so illumed
For its curiosity’s aim,
That might’ve implied
See to be but so and so,
May hold a worthy ply
Save ‘tis another trope
Put to what’s his name!
This face you see
Be as tho painted,
Told idiosyncrasy
Disorderly related,
Still has a grandee
Fixed thus to elate,
Not au contrair be
Of a mindful trait,
But of astute being
In that erudite state
Affects as depicted,
Note ingress's place
Tho ilk’s affixed bait,
See face, as tho painted...
A face will so emerge
In life unacquainted,
Yet ‘tis discouraged
At seen underrated,
For fruit of one’s urge
Begs shan’t be wasted,
As but a dreamlike hold
Life fancied be untainted,
And that you not fail extol
This face, be as tho painted!
Poetry on a canapé 