A Craggy Shell

            – begs not dispel –

How can one tell
If still of need,
Man’s craggy shell
Near gone to seed, 
Suggests farewell
And denies plead,
Begs not dispel 
The while he lives,
May find to dwell
Where soul outlives,
Said craggy shell
Tho mayn’t forgive,
Portends bordering hell!
						     written in Sweetsburg
						  © Jean-Jacques Fournier

Not a Cicada’s Kiss

in said tinnitus –

Not a Cicada’s Kiss

– in said tinnitus –

There is a buzz
In said tinnitus,
Unknown cause
To seek litigious, 
For forceful kiss
Ye want to leave,
Its incessant hiss
That causes grieve, 
Won’t even pause
This vexing sound, 
Not a cicada’s kiss
One may’ve found,
In a summer’s bliss...
Be echoes of hell
Aims sibilant feel,
As wouldst a bell 
With endless peal,
And thus, can tell
A tintinnabulum,
Of alternate stead
Will find torment,
Ye wretched head,
Tho best decapitate 
If one foregoes too late,
Homopteran’s migrates 
In guise of a cicada’s kiss,
You’d realize be godless fate!





© Jean-Jacques Fournier

written in Sweetsburg

July 29, 2021

“ The Man ” – of two glasses –

images

                                                     Listen to audio

“ The Man ”

       – of two glasses –

He sits to face

Across the table,

An empty space

Tho hardly able,

From time ago

The chair since bare,

Remains aglow,

To still reflect

The face he loved,

There upon the glass

Of a pale rosé…

 

Each forlorn day

In vain he stares,

With musing’s say

One can near feel

Her presence there,    

His mind will trace

Upon that empty chair,

A memory of her face                                                

That will not part

That special place,

Fixed in his heart…

 

Alas the man

Said of two glasses,

Sits so to face

As time so passes,

That empty space

He for a moment dwells,

On a memory only he can tell!

                                                © Jean-Jacques Fournier

remembering the sadness of an habitué,

chez Lou Fassum’s grand dining,

on la Côte dAzur, France …

written in Grasse, November of 2006  

Music, Misty by Stan Getz

   

“ 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

 

“ If Only ” – I’d known when –

DSCN2164 2  Listen to audio

If only

       – I’d known when –

If only

I’d known when,

To tell you

What I should,

Words that spoke

Of feelings then

Were misunderstood,

We might’ve found

To comprehend,

There came a point

That our affair,

Bore signs of thinning

Despite alluded tend,

Rather than beginning

Had started at the end!

 

                        written in Montréal

                                 © Jean-Jacques Fournier

“ Clouds for Dreaming ” – of ethereal things –

DSCN5848  Listen to audio

On a whim I can fly 

In a dream,

As I soar on wings

It thus seems,

Of ethereal things

Be a flight so real,

The ascent I can feel…

 

As I ride on the wind

I hear Zephyr sing,

Yet could not tell

If it spoke of Phoenix,

And his trip to hell

When rashly he’d fly,

Which I’ll ne’er risk

As so high he did fry,

For my soaring is fixed

In the dream I so fly…

 

Now on billowy clouds

Soft feathery things,

Their gentle pull bides

The while one clings,

To this surreal ride

Said fabric for dreams,

That dresses the skies,

In clouds made for dreaming!

 

           written at Amsterdam Airport

                                             © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                                                   April 10, 2002

 

 

“ I Want To Tell ” – of things that sing –

DSCN0836 2     Listen to audio

                                                             Photo, Marianne D

 

“ I Want To Tell ” – of things that sing –

 

I want to tell

Of time that brings,

In early spring

Of things that sing,

Restoring life

To summer brooks,

With twisting ripples

Through shady nooks…

 

I want to tell

Of stars that twinkle,

In your eyes

As you allow a smile,

 I want to tell

About the wind,

Plays in the trees

To kiss the leaves,

That flutter lightly

In a gentle breeze…

 

I want to tell

Of things on wings,

Held butterflies

Who decorate the skies,

Be of nature’s doing

Hence until they die…

 

I want to tell

Of bumblebees,

Bumbling leisurely

Where they please,

As summer plies

Its mellow zephyr,

Thus till fall requires

Nature’s dance defers…

 

I want to tell,

Of world defined

As a man made hell,

May spare a mind

That so wants tell,

With love to give

Thus so to bring,

That we find live

The while we cling,

To things that sing!                                                                      

                                                                       © Jean-Jacques Fournier

 

“ I Want To Tell ” ~ of things that sing ~

I want to tell

Of time that brings,

An early spring

Restoring life

To summer brooks,

Of twisting ripples

Through shady nooks…

 

I want to tell

Of stars that twinkle

In your eyes

As you allow a smile

Replace a shy disguise,

More than a while…

 

I want to tell

About the wind

That plays in trees,

To kiss the leaves,

That flutter slightly

In its gentle breeze…

 

I want to tell

Of things on wings,

Said butterflies

Will decorate the skies,

Be nature’s doing

Hence until they die…

 

I want to tell

Of bumblebees,

Bumbling leisurely

As summer plies,

Its mellow zephyr

In nature’s dance,

Till autumn requires …

 

I want to tell

Of things that sing,

The while you live

With love to give,

May spare a mind

Of man’s made hell,

A world we can but find!