A fellowman’s fate Be in a blind mind, Short of haste state For end of the line, Will reason be late A welcome assign, Thus eager to wait On ploy of resign, Yet invokes debate Tho beset inclined, May assure a place At end of life's time, As fellowman’s take Endures a blind mind, The while willing to wait!
Alas youth of long days, be soon elders short nights…
Imagery – Painting -Venus discovers young man robbed of his youth. Unknown artist, Naples mid 1600s. Music - Excerpt of - Pavane for a late father - Audio recital - Jean-Jacques Fournier
Oughtn’t I race
To held avers,
Finding shadows
Of a ready favour,
In enduring place
Where gratify be,
Begs shan’t erase
Alacrity’s glee,
Non inimical state
Yet has one flee,
As to rid of gate
And needless plea,
Of insensible fate
Fails docile agree,
In shades of kind
See alleges replete,
To feed a sane mind…
Hence on this day
The sun is strong,
I’ll find the way
To will one gone,
Ye may perceive
Be shadows found,
That gods conceive
There I am bound,
With austere mind
Want a sound bond,
Ill-fated so resigned!
Tho crave
From birth
To grave,
For worth
Ye want save,
A place
Said earth,
Now must skirt
To suffer waste,
Tho be alert
Of mans tricks,
Ample so to burst
A planet at risk,
Not find accept
Failed mortals akin,
In state of gorged excess
Hides yet a desolate grim,
Obscuring a need for address
While mans memory grows thin,
As he begs for too long ignored access!
Be hollows stark
Painting a mind,
In shadows dark
To survive time,
Be need of world
Best ne’er blind,
As creatures we
Given short line,
Expecting future
Soon fades offline,
Will want a tutor
For make believe,
Set as fake humans
Be computer achieved,
Save a life’s meagre race
Holds no reason to grieve,
With compos mentis in place
Ye ought find painting a mind
Seeks not dark shadows embrace!
He’d not stay long,
In life’s short run
Be too soon gone,
As if one shunned
To an early dawn,
From a place won
In a shortish song,
He as a brother be
Far too young gone,
Gods fixed not see,
As life span of a pawn
Alas was short-lived run
Thus, alike an early dawn!
Might you have parted
without telling your friend,
dear Marc, until it was too late…?
Ode, two scores late, for the passing
of Marc Tetreault, the rarest of dear friends.
written in Sweetsburg
April 17, 2022
Imagery - Wanderer Above the Sea by David Friedrich
Music - No Problem by Chet Baker Quartet
Audio - recital by Jean-Jacques Fournier
PS: If there should be an afterlife or such a thing as a next life,
Marc is the one true friend I would seek to befriend again.
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!
He wanders about
For trenchant life,
But without doubt
Save eonian strife,
Fixes a sure bout
As afore afterlife,
Be willing to wait
A progeny clever,
Till ye find place
Visualizes forever,
That allows placate
For no reason ever,
This wandering man
Seeks a longer while,
Thus, so to find whole
With but copious guile
Might delay growing old!
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 