Such luck
In GOD’S
preeminence
wonderstruck
as it occurred
This miracle is greater than all of us
There is no reasonable explanation
la force majeure
mere coincidence
it just happened
out of the blue
from heaven
by chance
this event
unforeseen
unavoidable
\|/ unpredicted \|/
They finally came to their senses
our indolent yawn
transforms as a sneeze
just as onset of dawn
offers soul release
simmering intent
hones creative instinct
that granting love consent
heart is bliss inked
we are not the doer
yet all doings are done
we cite force majeure
unlike the glowing sun
to meld with the source
whilst poised in repose
applying no force
radiance of heart grows
we walk the pathless path
strewn with rose petals
each breath a holy sabbath
where our presence settles
They built a ship,
to sail the blue.
A sight of wonder,
a dream come true.
They thought they built,
a mighty view.
There is no sea,
it can’t sail through.
But they were wrong.
For what they built,
was not so strong.
It brought them death,
that is for sure.
In the dark of night,
too far from shore.
An iceberg hit,
and flank it tore.
Husbands and wives,
did not survive.
Even the children,
did lose their lives.
With great Valour,
all rich and poor,
did give their lives,
to force majeure.
The ones who lived,
and had survived,
could not forget,
the souls deprived.
As for the owners,
who were Britannic,
could not forget,
the great Titanic.
"kamikaze"
Isn’t it odd
how you always gravitate back to me,
I circle your mind like a helicopter
you watch me
like a moth
attracted to flames,
lit in succulent tender air waves
the others will state their absolute grievances,
it’s a force majeure for preconceived
unaccountable and unavoidable catastrophes
but We,
persist, We,
kamikaze
all artificial
and unintelligent,
other side of the wall
reasoning
bows,
to Love,
always
Love,
gravitates,
persists,
calls us all in
just as debutantes,
there We are,
our insides shining out,
illogically
semi-public
so un-upperclassed,
We are, barefeet dancing
under eye-glass boiling,
serious insects
quartered illogically
'neath microscope petri'd
kamikaze
Love
calls Us all in
debutantes
illogically
troped
“Juliet is the Sun!”,
espouses Romeo;
little does he know,
She is more
than a
soft black-holed velvet galaxy
She's a
Universe, diamond sharp
turned inside out
Candide Diderot. ‘24
"The Let Down"
it’s never
what you think
it’s going to be like,
The Let Down.
rushes in
and hurts like hell.
after a while
the softness
in the heart
falls, while
you look lovingly
over the future
and the pain,
well, that pain,
is the sweetest
pain you ever
felt.
you feed
the love
it wants,
it holds on
for a while
until you're
empty there,
and the fullness
is found in
the spaces
you travel
to turn it
all around.
wings beat
against a nest
like a breast;
the windows
have to open
eventually,
the bird flies
out.
the small universes
bolt holed against
a storm,
the smaller
has to feel by its self;
force majeure
when mutiny
turns around
and the mirror
reflects
a repeating
noun
the mirror
reflects a repeating
noun
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
The spirit can never be suppressed
its silent essence roars
No government or despot’s reign
can change its ethos pure
Bottled up the pressure builds,
like Cuba underscored
The rhythm faint but always there
—erupting force majeure
(Deamsleep: December, 2020)
The chaos of the Universe somehow includes
a random-free, secure, well-engineered world
with all its vital stuff: TV set, frozen foods,
a five-day working week. Ships sold for scrap, sails furled,
discoverers retired, stargazers fired. The Moon
draws only freaks. They say, the Universe gets cold
but, thankfully, we have a central heating. Soon
we go on holiday. We will be not too old
when we pay our loans in full. Blessed are the poor
in spirit for they shall inherit universe
where nothing happens:
nor surprise,
nor force majeure,
nor accident,
nor luck,
nor miracle,
nor verse...
P.S.: I'm kidding. Under this blue sky
we can be only sure that we will die.
07.07.2019
NO GLORY FOUND
No glory found and no guilt ever apportioned
For those guiding young men to wars uncautioned,
The chosen too often of colour, unlearned or piss poor.
But true heroes they’ll be winning by force majeure.
Ticker tape parades and medals for those who make home,
For the rest, just a name on some glorious dome.
But see those with the wealth; they don’t give a toss
Knowing their greedy interests will not turn a loss.
Not their sons to die in some foreign land
Let other sons do the marching, so strike up the band.
Take heed you young mothers with sons still so young
Ensure their promise is valued and not into future wars flung.
No glory found, and no guilt ever apportioned
For those guiding young men to wars uncautioned.
John Jurkowski
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