Makes Ye Think

– that there’s a link –

Photo by Akshar Dave, I owe you a coffee…

Makes Ye Think

         – that there’s a link –

Will come a time 
For aging life,
Gods do decline
Find defer strife,
Tho we near blind
Musing afterlife,
A man’s assign
No minor swipe,
In his lifetime
If wise he’s not,
While so aligned
He may be fraught, 
By a wizened state 
That alters naught,
Thus, to find room 
Far from the end,
A state of gloom
Yet sets amend,
To make ye think 
Of time too soon, 
That there’s a link 
Where we end up,
On second thought
Holds your last sup,
Ought make ye think!


                © Jean-Jacques Fournier 


         Written in Sweetsburg 
          March 29, 2023

Imagery - Wikimedia Commons
Music - excerpt of Sommarpsalm (String Quartet Version) 
Audio - Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                                             Written in Sweetsburg 
                                                                  March 29, 2023

Imagery - Wikimedia Commons
Music - excerpt of Sommarpsalm (String Quartet Version) 
Audio - Jean-Jacques Fournier

A Face

           – in morrow’s space –

Listen to audio

A Face

• – in morrow’s space –

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!

                    Imaging mans’ unconsciousness toward reality...

                                            © Jean-Jacques Fournier

Image - Wikimedia Commons ...
Music - Weekend Jazz, no artist names ...
Audio - Jean-Jacques Fournier ...
https://www.facebook.com/100011435760626/videos/836685244048319/

                                                            Written in Sweetsburg
                                                              November 17, 2022

The Sounds

  – of nature –

Listen to audio

I can remember
Hearing the sounds,
Till late September
Most to be found,
Echoes near all
Held us spellbound,
Yet soon to recall 
To be put aground,
For shy of enthrall  
Be mans contrives,
Wouldst thus anoint
With noise devised,
Beyond human point
To render us deaf,
He’d fashion disjoint
What life has left,
Of the lullaby sounds
Once natural to nature!  

                 © Jean-Jacques Fournier

            
Images - Marianne Dessis ...
Music – Adagio Albinoni ...
Audio - Jean-Jacques Fournier ...

			                written in Sweetsburg
			                        June 7, 2021

“ If Memory Fails ” – guide me to a shelter –

  Listen to audio

“ If Memory Fails ”

            – guide me to a shelter –

Now that you’re here

Will you see I not falter,

As in time I yet fear

Fate chose not to alter,

Thence I might know

As age won’t be kinder,

And if memory fails

Thus with love you offer,

I pray the gods avail

Find you to be there

To guide me to a shelter…

 

Now that you’re near

A joy you be each day,

Tho I no longer hear

An easy voice at play,

Be yours ever so dear

Now fading far away,

Near muted to my ear

Save recall ere so clear,

Retention can but stay

Tho memory fades away…

 

Alas serenity assured

The while you be there,

With music you so speak,

There is sanity you bring

That has my world sing,

And does but so relieve

That foreboding cling,

For you are to be here  

A prompt ever so clear

Keeping mind yet sane,

The while if memory fails

Life destined be our bane,

Tho your love will still remain!

                               ode to my mother and father…                                                                

                                       © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

“ A Near Dead Soul ” ~ draped in defeat ~

A near dead soul

Bled of iniquity,

Hobbles his way

Draped in defeat,

A façade now surly

Etched on his face,

Burdened with gait

That once held grace,

Who journeys in hell

From wrongful deeds

His mind can’t dispel,

Now sadly bears fate

That mirrors his hate!

ode to death of a friendship

“ Man’s Season ” ~ be but one taste ~

 

Near all seasons

Of nature’s bent

Has a reason,

Most to feed

The next event,

Thus to embrace

A cycle of reinvent,

Save man’s fate

Who aspires reach

Time’s scant decree,

Yet his own season

Of ephemeral state,

Be of limited reason

We’ve but one taste!