“ The Book ” – of blank pages –

IMG_1514

  An author’s torment – revisited

                                                     Listen to Audio

“ The Book ”

         – of blank pages –

A book in search

Of giving birth,

To pages blank,

Free of dearth

Hopes but record,

View so composed

Of words in accord,

To author predisposed

Might ease the way,

That dares initiate

A scribe’s want say,

Without hesitate

When he finds a play,

Empty of intimidate

Upon a virgin page,

The while a book awaits

Words chosen to breathe life,

To the uninhabited posed state

Held be the book, of blank pages!

 

                                    © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                                     Written in Roma, It. 2013

      Music, Gymnopédie No.1 – Erik Satie …

 

 

“ 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

   

“ My Bibliotheca ” – from old scribes, to new books –

images-1

                                                                     Listen to audio

Picture, Benedictine Monastery library founded in 1074.

Music, Book The Rental With It, by Rage

“ My Bibliotheca ”

                  – from old scribes,

                                to new books –

I’ve a library

Overflows,

With books

I’ve read,

While some

Want doze,

Tho be tale

Old that flows,

To ones soul

And so wait,

For old eyes

To be fed,

A said read

Afore avid dies…

 

I’ve books

In my veins,

That beg

Till it pains,

To be written

In stead,

Of poems

I’ve bled,

Would imbue

Near all said,

Tells it true

Of held books,

Be page anew

From birth,

Reaching out

Fated to end,

In man’s final berth!

             ode per se, to books held in one’s library…

                                           © Jean-Jacques Fournier

“ A Joy ” – imagined –

Bonheur_Matisse

                                                                         Listen to audio

Art, The Joy of Life, Henri Matisse

Music, Kai Engel, Cabetet

“ A Joy ”

      – imagined –

A joy extant infers

Fate lets attain,

I find imagine

What ought contain,

Stuff be of dreams

Imaging the silken,

Rather than lined

In matters coarse,

Though often times

Joy be dark horse,

To masquerade

Masked as a rose,

In joyless shade,

Wanting but dispose…

 

Yet be this joy

Illusion’s dope,

Thirsting to enjoy

We live in hope,

Yet sadly fantasize

In musings empty,

Waiting joy incites

A moment of delight

To more than but survive!

                        A young man’s search recalling joy…

                                                © Jean-Jacques Fournier

“ Life Is But A Minute ” – held implied as a lifetime –

images-11

                                                             Listen to audio

“ Life Is But A Minute ”

              – held implied as a lifetime –

The Journey starts

Tho soon too fast,

And way off chart

Predestined cast,

Scarce one recalls

What life is to last,

The span of its all

Save less ye forget,

Said be our lifeline

This nascence day,

Thus a minute past

Had found its way,

A birth ye may ask,

As it came together

Seeks its short stay,

In echo of ones other…

 

Life soon will wither

While none to waste

Pardon my rancour,

Of they who crowd

Or find to anchor,

On my fleeting pace

With so little living,

I reason make haste…

 

With hint to soon rest,

Lying neath memories

Of its life’s alleged fest,

My back to its epitaph

For all who have been,

Knew well to find daft

Held implied as a lifetime,

Denies life is but a minute!

                                 © Jean-Jacques Fournier

              Music, One Minute Waltz, (1847) Fryderyk Chopin

“ A Vortex ” – has ye bound –

IMG_1470

                                                                       Listen to audio

   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

 

“ I Am The Colour ” – of human disorder –

images-6                                                                        Listen to audio

“ I Am The Colour ”            

                    – of human disorder –

I am the colour

Of human disorder,

That shades the stay

Of man made suffer,

While held at bay

Be cause of such pallor,

In ominous way

With spurious cover,

Feigning fair play

To thus be so coloured,

With doubtful recover

For fated mankind,

Bears not colour’s assign…

 

I an the colour,

Of human disorder!

             © Jean-Jacques Fournier

Music, Dark Cloud…

 

“ Sandboxes ” – and rainbows –

james-le-jeune-children-playing-in-a-sandpit

                                                   Listen to audio

“ Sandboxes ”

              – and rainbows –

Time played us so

Carefree of puerile,

As though forever

We’d live the while,

In wishful rainbows

That so beguiled,

Till hint of shadow

When of a sudden,

We’re cast adrift

Of childhood days,

Denied of sandboxes

Thus to find our way…

 

Now adult vision

Edges to fashion,

Of chance choices

In unlike passions,

Be soon worn thin

Held best assume,

Find remote whim

Of wearisome spins…

 

Yet period plagues

With insipid wishes,

And easy daydreams

Of undying rainbows,

In sandbox dwellings!

                        © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                                    o.v. 1st written Summer of 1983, in LA, California

         Painting, Children playing in a sandbox by James Le Jeune

                     Music, Kevin MacLeod – Incompetech Air Prelude #15

 

 

“ The life of Butterfly ” – be caterpillar’s fate –

butterfly-dovetail-papilio-machaon-nature-47728

                                                                        Listen to audio

“ The life of Butterfly ”

         – be caterpillar’s fate –

There be a time

Chrysalis soon,

Needs to forget

Life isn’t tuned,

Pain fails beset

Nor be immune,

Suffer progress

Metamorphosis,

Feels be regress

In awkward state,

Of primary stage

Be caterpillar fate,

It dons final phase

Of innate crawling,

To find taking flight…

 

I may have wished

‘Twould so remain,

Thus circumspect

Sheltered from rain,

In cocoon darkness

Tho bar delighting,

In early morn sun

A colourful ravager,

Who once could see

At leaf perspective,

When as a butterfly

Explores new birth,

From watch on high,

Now a ravaged earth                                                                                                          

Thru sad tearful eye,

From fugacious berth

In wilted summer sky,

Once caterpillar’s fate

All the while reflecting,

On the life of butterfly!

                                                    written June 4, 2020      

                              © Jean -Jacques Fournier

                                              Photos, M. Dessis & anon.

                                                       Music, by Kai Engel

 

“ We The Homeless ” – not by choice – revisited

DSCN8461

                                                                               Listen to audio

“ We The Homeless ”

       – not by choice – revisited

It’s not by choice,

We’ve but the street

For our new host,

In this life gone bleak

It be thus a last resort,

Begs we’d not seek

Wanting as consort,

Held so to speak

Apt be a gritty ghost,

Led we live incomplete

Having lost one’s voice,

Mindful of our fate

Now being without choice,

In a discombobulated state

That be life on the street,

The while this last resort

Be until we are too weak,

To drag our bones to port

In a life of empty options,

That be for we the homeless,

Held fixed to muted notions

Reduced we be to nameless,

Drifting in crowded sad seclusion

We’ve to live as shadows on the street…

 

Suffer alas said we the homeless

In a populous fashioned by human apathy,

Offered in overwhelming abundance

To a growing number of ignored failed voices…

 

We the homeless, not by choice!

 

                                     © Jean-Jacques Fournier

                         Photography, by Marianne Dessis –

                                                              Music, by Kai Engel –