“ Where The Lost Abound ” – desperate to be whole –

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“ Where The Lost Abound ”

                      – desperate to be whole –

In small cafes,

I sat around

Watching arrays

Of lost abound,

There but to play

Said morose lives,

That slip away

With wary anguish…





I linger here

To write of life,

That so abounds

In abysmal strife,

Till muse absconds

Urge to describe,

Their sad parade

In a despondency

That blurs its find,

Yet when about

To write the line,

Their faces fade                                                                                      

 As tho I’m blind…





So as I glimpse

This pot-pourri,

A mere semblance

Of the reality I see,

In a poor writ play

Of wretched beings,  

Moving mindlessly

Looking for a soul,                      

As they move round, 

Desperate to be whole

Thru that turbulent sea,                                                                                     

Where the lost abound!

                                             © Jean-Jacques Fournier

Music, Lazy Sunday- by Smooth Jazz

Pictures , MD and private collection


			

“ The Almighty Time ” – the god to whom mortals pray –

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“ The Almighty Time ”

– the god to whom mortals pray –

A prerequisite is to be friends,

And so of our Almighty Time

Held we the naïve would tend,

Ne’er fall short to toe his line

Or fail not err that so offends,

To suffer alas its cruel assign

As this god an ultimate killer,

On a whim may find consign

Ye now be but mortal sinner,

Piteous to the Almighty Time,

The god to whom mortals pray

Tho fated their peace of mind,

Ever so far from extended stay

For an apathetic god sees deign,

If The Almighty Time gives way!

                     © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                     ode to all we who seek to stall time…

Music – exerpt of As time Goes By, by Dexter Gordon …

Photos – Independent collection…                                   

                                    written in Sweetsburg

                                        September 6, 2020

“ Grieving ” ~ time neglected ~

I grieve for time

Passing unseen,

Tho anxiously

I try to redeem,

An absurd task

Held be a dream,

Behind the mask

That only seems,

Assuage ones fear

Now less than keen,

When down the line

Reality finds clear,

That life left behind

Actualizes many years,

Yet neglected tell my mind

There’ll be life past the tears,

For obtuse squandered assign

Has me grieving, now ill timed!

 

 

                                                            © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

 

 

“ A Loaf of Bread ” ~ a jug of wine, and thou ~

Held loaf of bread,

A jug of wine

And thou he’d said,

Be propitious find

Tho but line I read,

Fixed state of mind

Tho barb now dead,

Lived poetry’s sage

Long ago far ahead,

Of creation engaged

Tho of ancient past,

Did inspire persuade

Every nuance he cast,

Be a tableau each page

Stated words of Khayyâm!

 

                                                         ode to a great poet and polymath

                                                                   © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

“ The Ascendancy ” ~ reaching beyond ~

There is a time,

All has been said

Exceeds the line,

Of hapless dread

Reaching beyond,

Said soul be bled

By they who bond,

To destroy means

Of righting wrongs,

As empowered few

Willfully prolong,

Their financial stew

Of concocted chicanery

That maximize greed,

The while they control

All financial proceeds,

Till we succumb whole

As bankers watch bleed,

We cashless poor souls

Of ignored human needs,

Beg of credit card moles

To restore coins you feel,

Razed as ascendancy spoils!

 

                                                           ode to bankers & credit-card Tzars

 

“ The Last Day ” ~ a meagre instant ~

 

There is a time

Life means  reach

The end of the line,

Hence the last day

Destined be so,

And matters not

If rain or shine,

It’s meant to follow,

While every thought

Will be defined

By what you lived,

And that of self

You chose to give,

For in the end

All you now face,

Be the last day

Thus to take place,

A meagre instant

Left of life’s race!