“ Men Of The Sea ” – obdurate beings – – revisited –

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“ Men Of The Sea ”

                  – obdurate beings –

                             – revisited –

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                             

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“ A Distant Presence ” – stored in old memories –

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“ A Distant Presence ”

            – stored in old memories –

 

I feel a presence

Ever distant,

Lurking

In my memory,

Probing

Unrelentingly,                                                                             

To surface

Above reticence,

Ne’er forgotten

Be one’s musings,

Despite a dying voice

Caught in the shadows,

Of a haunting choice

Stays a distant presence,

Stored in old memories…

 

I feel its existence

Lamenting regret,

Of relic adolescence

Did tend to forget,

One’s life so harried

Time be left scattered,

Yet held little matter

Amid memory’s embers,

Despite imploring pleas

Woefully entreating time,

On symbolic knees

Ought allow to remind,

Before the while be no more

Than a haunting memory…

 

Tho still I hear whispers

Of a lingering voice,

Must be the patient soul

In its life’s awoken choice,

Holds stored in old memories

That of a distant presence! 

           

                        © Jean-Jacques Fournier  

                                           July 12, 2020             

            Music, Chet Baker – Almost Blue –

“ A Vortex ” – has ye bound –

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   Painting, Cavalier Michele Federico, early 1900s

              Music, Kai Engel –Brand New World…

“ A Vortex ”

            – has ye bound –

Held the mind

Is as a vortex,

Of firm define

In ones cortex,

That be vassal

Has us bound,

Yet bedazzled

In otiose sound,

Will so frazzle

While ‘tis said

Sets a ground,

That unfolds

For its ascent,

Aims behold

Fated meant,

To be so bold

In bid chance,

Ye are in wake

Of life’s dance,

Young or old

To find taste,

While it holds

For too soon

We are waste,

To be strewn

Without grace,

As out of tune

Thus to find face,

For underground

Option said place,

Short on rebound

Despite vortex mind,

That alleges has ye bound!

                                                         © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                                                     June 2020

 

“ The Gift ” – of you – revisited

IMG_3243   Listen to audio

“ The Gift ”

                 – of you –

I want not to forget

Fail having tried,

Or simply accept

I’ve reason to regret,

Mindful so I could

Be able to affect,

Without need to try

As if I could deny,

Our love grew beyond

You being easy on the eye…

 

I wanted to recall,

The times you tried

Offering your all,

And I too blind to see

Might’ve realized,

You so needed me,

As I you even more

Tho the gift offered,

I ne’er realized before

Had always been of you …

 

Doesn’t tax one’s memory

To recall there’d been many,

But none the worth, if any

Yet didn’t know enough

I’d the gift of you to hold,

But only now can tell

When grown wiser old,

While you, now too long gone

Be the gift, for someone else to hold!

 

written in Grasse France           

                                                © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

“ The Gift ” – of you –

IMG_3243   Listen to audio

“ The Gift ”

             – of you –

I want not to forget

Fail having tried,

Or simply accept

I’ve reason to regret,

Mindful so I could

Be able to affect,

Without need to try

As if I could deny,

Our love grew beyond

You being easy on the eye…

 

I wanted to recall,

The times you tried

Offering your all,

And I too blind to see

Might’ve realized,

You so needed me,

As I you even more

Tho the gift offered,

I ne’er realized before

Had always been of you …

 

Doesn’t tax one’s memory

To recall there’d been many,

But none the worth, if any

Yet didn’t know enough

I’d the gift of you to hold,

But only now can tell

When grown wiser old,

While you, now too long gone

Be the gift, for someone else to hold!

 

                                                           written in Grasse Fr.

                                                                                     © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

 

 

“ Don’t Stop ” – for egoist thought –

There’s a part of us

That will not stop,

Tugged by the other

With egoist thought,

On all that matters

Of living life sought,

As an ultimate factor

Would dissertate not,

What the other fosters

Said vantage together,

For what soul bought

And so found garner,

As life’s integral state

Should now discover,

Be of dubious grace

Soul can but borrow,

Of ones meagre space

Held bogus of equity,

Amounting to nought

Put aside the self-pity,

With brief time’s allot

For extent it shall hold,

That may ne’er realize,

Dream of eon time bold

In life borrowed implied…

 

Yet want part of don’t stop

From newborn to grow old

Hence want reaching till dust!

 

                                                       © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

 

“ The Crow ” ~ that was ~

I am the crow

That was before,

Now made to go

For a last chore,

To find the place

Where I’m to lie,

As will old crows

When time to die,

The while remember

I am the crow,

Who with its caw

Be crow you saw,

Meant let you know

Hunger weren’t lore

Nor presence to ignore,

Tho now be just a crow

That is alas no more!