Best Franc Poems


Poetic Justice

Choked by the incense of poetic justice,
I volunteered to be slain for the betterment of humanity.
The paintings of my ink on white sheet were witnesses,
When in Abuja, I drew my poetic daggers,
Against a twin bomb blast that left separated Limbs of men bleed with acrimony.
Eyes wept with sympathy crawling down their cheeks
While our crown boast of a thousand solutions with no one in sight.
Poetic justice shall reign in Nigeria, I prayed

I handshake my communication god when it rang
And cling firmly my peripatetic poetic spirit,
To Didier's motherland, under the cloud of French stimulated Ivory,
I saw a goat-bearded-god mimic the suit of the stars and stripes.
And commands pagan's adoration of the sun upon his throne.
When scions of termites spit at the sight of our dead flesh.
I wept when hunger-lashed beggars’ union 
Cling on my feet for one CFA franc.
Poetic justice shall reign in Ivory Coast, I prayed

Under strong loyalty to tyrannical whipping with merciless rod.
I saw my brothers drip blood from the scars of yesterday.
Should religious fundamentalists be blamed?
When a star, firmly crucified on a sickle moon,
Grind the 'holy cross' people of the south.
While the big brother stood akimbo and watch vultures poke our intestines.
The referendum at hand smells secession success on my screen.
I pray for poetic justice in Sudan, Africa and the whole world.

My Family

we were adopted on the same morning 
my father loved us, a love adoring 
my brothers shared a gene name, Cabernet 
sisters noble parents based on hearsay 

my dad built a strong house of fine French oak 
we stayed there for months until the walls spoke 
Sauvignon muscular and the strongest 
Franc dark and lean and can stay the longest 

Merlot is too shy and soft as satin 
me, Petit Verdot, was told to fatten 
we left that house for a place very small 
this was a time of character for all 

life a blend of love and time but real 
dad says it’s a Bordeaux surreal appeal 

-updated July 2016-
© Just James  Create an image from this poem.

The Entrepeneur

The Entrepreneur 
I`m thinking of the man who was clearing land
He wanted to grow cabbage, a good idea especially
Since farmers get subsidies from EU for planting orange trees
The country drowning in orange twice a year
There many stones on the ground here and looks like
The extracted teeth of giants, so the man decided
 To construct a pyramid for the untrained eye the mound
Of stones look like a heap of rocks, and it has also become 
A Paradise for rabbits 

The cabbages his soil produced were pathetic, so he gave
It up, he didn`t have the long view as a farmer needs.
He went to Franc instead and worked on a winery there.
He saved his money and began driving a Taxi I Paris but 
Lost his licence for drinking wine on the job
Form: Sonnet


Wake Up Call

WAKE UP CALL

Wake up Congolese, wake up
It is morning, the sun arises from the east 
Open your eyes and wake up. 
I am Kongolo Congo, born near the River Congo
Grew up in Congo Uvira, using the Congo franc  
Now I am a Refugee in South Africa.

Wake up Congolese, wake up
Yesterday Congo was the private garden of the Belgium King,
It became the province of Belgium;
It became the land of Congolese. 
Today it seems as the plantation of a Congolese leader with his overseers. 
Think of the future faithful leaders, oh! Congolese.
 
Wake up Congolese, wake up 
Congo is very rich than Belgium but Congolese are too poor  
Congo is the ground of the wars because of spurious politic 
Congo is belatedly because of the hypocrite and selfish leaders
Congolese starve to death while walking on the golds, diamonds, and cobalt.
Congolese die poor while sailing on the gas and petrol.   

Wake up Congolese, wake up
Congo is the middle and motor of Africa  
African leaders do you focus on Congo 
Congo made Belgium beautiful place 
Congo can make New Africa City than New York City
Congo is like the heart of hearts.
Form: Narrative

Premium Member Rejection Can Be Good

 
I have always known rejection and exclusion,
as a half-breed girl I heard the insult;
whispered, as a child it left me with confusion,
it still happens often as an adult;
I liked to be alone and seek deep seclusion.

Instead of playing in the school yard I read a book,
the library was my favorite place;
I could always find among the rows a cozy nook,
and in time-   writing things I would embrace;
I would fill all the pages of my school notebook.

I like going into the coolness of a church,
the silence is like a warm cloak;
lighting a candle for answers-   I search,
I like art especially paintings baroque;
and ever since I can remember I like research.

And because of all this I have become a writer,
with my grandma supporting me;
in my life, school, work, now-  never an inciter,
quiet ... when writing for me is the key;
and in time- a computer replaced my old typewriter.

__________________
September 12, 2021


Poetry/Quintain (Sicilian)/Rejection Can be Good
Copyright Protected, ID 09-1388-310-12
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La Franc


Written for the Premier contest, Quintain (Sicilian)
sponsor, Emile Pinet, Judged 10/15/2021

Second Place

Premium Member Heaven, a Promise

 
Dazzling and prismatic, the glittering vista, so,
majestic the regal angels beckoning on gossamer wings;
Heaven, a promise, a paradise waiting beyond life,
ethereal, sublime and divine the reverie of a Shangri-la haven.
____________________
July 20, 2013


Poetry/Verse/Heaven a Promise
Copyright Protected, ID 07-493-813-20
All Rights Reserved, 2013, Constance La Franc
Form: Verse


Believe

A Penny for your thoughts,
or a Quarter for your rhyme?
A Dollar for your compassion,
for a Dime to go back in time.

A Nickel for your honesty,
or a Ruble to speak your mind.
A Jackson for your patience,
and a Euro to feed the blind.

A Pound for your trouble –
a Dinar for your reprieve,
a Peso to cover the damages,
a Franc if you’d only believe.

In God We Trust authority,
yet not His spoken word –
It takes money, privilege and power,
for the voice of the Lord to be heard.

Our lives are merely a vapor –
don’t wait to be your best,
you may end up like the Pharisees,
in hell with all the rest.
Form: Rhyme

War Poets

The War Poets

The First World War wasn`t a world war but
a war of dominance in Europe chiefly by the Franc, British and Germany.
World War 2 included most country it was a nasty war
millions of people died, but strangely this war is partly forgotten.
It changed the map and brought forward Israel, which became a torn
for lasting peace in the Middle East.
But the war brought us great American writers like Theodore Dreiser,
Ezra Pound (poet)Ernst Hemingway and many others great writers.
The savagery of that world didn`t include so many poets as
the dispute in Europe also called a world war did,
 the reason we remember it so well is thanks to Wilfred Owens and 
his intimate friend Frederic Sassoon who ploughed deep furrows 
in our mind and did away with flowering poetry, gritty realism
was and still is what poets should strive for.
© Jan Hansen  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Respect and Kindness Is the Way

 
"Respect Begets Respect."

                                Proverb

I look at all people with value and significance and respect,
it does not matter if they are a friend or a beggar on the street:
or a food charity person, no matter what, they are fellow humans,
I never consider them irrelevant, or not important, or a threat;
and would never talk down to them, demean, or belittle,
or be condescending, this is what God wants me to do!

I will never judge others for what has happened in their life,
for my own journey has not been easy so I understand:
there are pitfalls and detours, there is grief, sadness, illness,
fear and worry to overcome, I found the strength and courage;
to move forward and heal my life, I care not about a person's,
appearance, gender, race, age, this is what Gods wants of me! 

I embrace the spirit of God and the human spirit each day,
and follow God's path of love in daily life, and of kindness:
to each person I interact with on my journey, its simple to do,
just treat each person with respect, it will make you happy;
your own life will be improved, as the old proverb says,
"Respect Begets Respect," this is what God wants me to do! 

My unique way is with tranquility, serenity and calm,
I have taught myself to let go of judgement and anger:
my tools are prayers, meditation, intentions, commitments,
being thankful, mindful, and embracing that things change;
nothing stays the same, there is always hope for better days,
and if my words can change a life, then God has taught me well!
 
_____________________
January 09, 2023


Poetry/Verse/Respect and Kindness is the Way	
Copyright Protected, ID 01-1515-440-09
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La Franc 

Written for the Premiere contest, The Way We Look
sponsor, Unseeker Seeker, Judged 01/10/2023

First Place
Form: Verse

Is Kruel Really Cruel

Kruel is certain that Polly deserves life than death,
even if Polly couldnever take a breath
She has more time to spend with friends
She has lots of good friends

Why would Polly give it all up now?
Answers won't resolve somehow
Did Polly really mean it,
when she accepted the gift?

Polly must be hiding something
Kruel knows how her process of thinking
She has traveled through the Laser Trail
Many times, back and forth to find a tale

Was this something to be honest with Master?
If Master heard this, it might end up in a disaster
She was fulfilled with curse
That's all Kruel knows about life of hers

Kruel was sneaky
She tried to be tricky
Polly would not fall for her prank
Kruel can't be franc

Polly has a scheme
She has a dream
That Kruel can be friendly
And can be gently 

Polly's dream came true
Kruel changed out of the blue
She felt the way Polly wished to live
She wanted to give

The wish that Polly made
Make her tears fade
She was a friend
And she wanted to spend

The rest of life without
Master's business, Kruel doubt
But Polly smiles and Kruel believes that this is what friendship is
"Her smile to keep the Magical Universe from getting out of control," Kruel says
Form: Narrative

Premium Member A Simple Tale

I watch with interest
as crows glide over a wheat field.
Such a fine sight under simmering sun.
Smiling at the occasional poppy
blazing red, such a contrast.
There is not one cornflower this year,
cannot help wondering why?
If I could edge closer,
would I spot a butterfly?
Last year they were absent,
another extinction event looming.
Momentarily distracted by screeching crows'
my questions go unanswered.
Instead savouring this moment
before threshers begin their work.
Repetitive cycle of life so precious,
not to be taken for granted.
How we would miss our ovens
filled with aroma of freshly baked bread.




Pixabay image by Franc-Comtois
Form: Narrative

Premium Member 1943 Steel Cents

Copper metal is a valuable wartime commodity.
Something new was needed for the cent in 1943.
A strange composition the United States Mint would reveal.
Lincoln’s profile appeared on a coin made of steel.
It was plated with zinc to reduce oxidation.
They were struck at all three mints in the nation.
The three cities were ones that most people would know.
They were Philadelphia, Denver, and San Francisco.
Here is an interesting little trivia tidbit:
This coin is the only one that can be drawn to a magnet.
However, zinc-coated cents were made for just one year.
Afterward, familiar bronze cents would reappear.

The mint made a move two years before that was similar.
They replaced the nickel in five-cent pieces with silver.
A large “P”, “D”, or “S”, appeared above Monticello.
This indicated a silver five-cent piece so you would know.

The following year, production of steel cents would cease.
The mint used the metal to make the Belgian two-franc piece.
Therefore, this is what the United States Mint did for the war.
After 1945, we did not have to worry about it anymore.

Premium Member Tycoons In Line For Supper

They argued about the ruble, the kyat, the gold cordoba too
More conversation about lira, Swiss franc, and Moldova Leu.
Discussion soon turned to the rupee, new peso and Brazilian real,
Money talk ceased as they lined up for their evening meal.
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member The Art Gallery Test


Art galleries are to me ...

a)  like coming home as it always feels right
b)  it is a place to let go of all tension
c)  it inspires my mind in so many positive ways
d)  and makes my mind wander to beautiful places
e)  all of the above

Art galleries bring out my creativity ...

a)  by viewing art I am left in awe
b)  they provide me with a window into the past
c)  I analyse the skill, brushstrokes and colors used by the artists
d)  and I contemplate the scenes, mood and even the frames
e)  all of the above

Art galleries give me great knowledge ...

a)  I learn about artist from the past and the new artists of now
b)  I develop by taking tours and learning the histories of the art
c)  and I take advantage of special exhibits and workshops offered
d)  and the daily lectures are very informative
e)  all of the above

____________________
February 09, 2023


Poetry/List/The Art Gallery Test
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1524-255-09
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La Franc

Written for the Standard contest, Multiple Choice
sponsor, Suzanne Delaney, Judged 03/07/2023

Second Place
Form: List

Trump

Trump 
 A week is a long time in politics it also a long time in an old man`s life 
who knows it can end when he sleeps; I say that and think of suicide 
watching the entertainment on Portuguese TV the utter banalities makes me
shake uncontrolled fall to the floor until she switches off the telly.
Ok I admit to being over the top, she have been away for a week with 
TV off most of the time except when watching the news on Franc 24 and 
counting their lies and the omissions I take a grim pleasure watching 
the new reader speaking his lines not listening to what he is saying like 
a human robot and now we have got Trump he is theatrical ok mind, 
he only do one-dimensional figure and is unable to  be someone else 
as his ego is big as Mount Everest like it or not he is the best president ever.
Democrats are stunned they are used to the hypocrisy of politicians it 
has become a norm …and now this vulgarian is in power, tells his truth 
as he sees it some agree, he promised the working  class people 
EMPLOYMENT.
For the time being, we believe, the day will come when the smug liberals 
string him up below the statue of Abe Lincoln

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