The Cane

       – held in hand –

The Cane

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– held in hand –

Thus, as I walk
With the cane,
Held in hand
As to saunter,
While I amble
A strewn land,
Hence yet able 
From err I stand,
For the moment 
Recourse idle,
A while resting
Tho rather sidle, 
My weary bones
Next to Puccini,
Lean on a cane
Thus, for a while,
Giacomo is again
Where I now stand!

                ©️ Jean-Jacques Fournier 

Imagery - MD Photo & Wikimedia un Commons
Music – excerpt of Instrumental Opera Music by G. Puccini
Audio – Jean-Jacques Fournier

written in Ciboure, Fr.
October 9, 2022,

“ Silence ” – for gratuitous reason –

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“ Silence ”

                – for gratuitous reason –

Why must I bide

To hear but sounds

Of silence,

At times a virtue

Now but a chide,

Thus weary I be

Ever waiting                             

On verbosity,

That might reflect                                                           

A hint of life…

           

Might I propose

In shades betwixt,

Effort compose

To so thus fix,

The emptiness                                                              

Of inert silence,

And the tedium

Of verbose prolix…

A word or more

I so implore

Even neath

The aural norm,

Albeit to tease

In lieu of please,

To save from silence

Held for gratuitous reason!

                                                             © Jean-Jacques Fournier

“ I Am The Crow ” ~ in a grave dark world ~

 

I am the crow

In a grave

Dark world,

A soul in plight

Black as night,

Forced to soar

In a dying light,

On weary wings

And failing sight,

Yet made suffer

Endless flights,

Looking for path

To freedom I seek,

While agony looms

In this wasting meek,

Who’ll suffer hell

Or fly with the devil

For a ray of light,

That shows the way

To end this journey 

In the dead of night!

 

 

“ Persistence ” ~ beyond bounds ~

 

An endless sound

Of hissing resounds,

Persistently,

In ones weary skull…

 

Perverse echoes

Find to devise

In a mind resigned,

The means to survive

A state that confounds,

One forced to listen

Beyond humane bounds,

Said tinnitus to suffer

In its hell bent surrounds!

“ Emptiness ” ~ of the ill-fated ~

Emptiness surrounds

The weary,

Thus be found

Wearing the face

Found in ill-fated place,

Loosing time’s race

As emptiness presses,

On hapless people,

Whose matter brims empty!