“ The Mind ” ~ of a voiceless child ~

Looking to hide

In a ravaged crowd,

Where war has him bide

In rag-torn shrouds,

For all that be left

Of this voiceless child,

Be a mind bereft

Feeling cast aside,

In a torturous tide

Of victims’ loud cries,

As dead bodies fall

From gory guns bane

Of spent soldiers insane,

That no longer recall

Were once poets near all,

Now brain-damaged mob

Be creatures caballed

Who follow a broken god,

Said maker of orphans

Who find shelter in rubble,

A place they’d once called home!

                                                                           ode to war orphaned children

“ Mirror, Mirror ” ~ on the wall ~


IMG_1411 2  Listen to audio


Mirror, mirror

On the wall

Hard to show

My face at all,

You make it seem

Like it was mauled …


Mirror, nearer

Your torment,

Can have me cry

And looking bent,

Instead of shy                                                                     

Of seeming spry

As I had meant…


Mirror, closer

You discuss,

A weathered face

Made hopeless case,

As craggy crust, 

Shows in its place…


Mirror, mirror

You violator

Of melancholy state,

Alas to so deface

What shan’t be salved

Thru your efface,

Or torturous onguent

Inflicts a malfeasant!


                            written in Grasse Fr.
                                       © Jean-Jacques Fournier