I once belonged to a garden shed
it had a small window you could look inward into it.
There I sat smoking a funky tobacco and
cleaning my fingernails
with a small gun metal pocket knife.
Occasionally I hum the La Marseillaise
I am an exiled Paddy not a Frenchie
but I do grow garlic and to this day
pine for those large English pickled onion
that the limeys eat with their fish and chips
and the frogs despise.
The shed is small enough
to accommodate several cats
or one overweight flatulent bulldog.
Now I keep no cats, and the dog
is buried in another part of that faraway garden.
I once composed poems in that very shed,
those scribblings are long defunct
and debunked.
It's quite legal to kill poems
when their only purpose
is to litter up a small space in your head
as if you were a cramped, overstaffed shed.
Categories:
marseillaise, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Marianne (Bearer of Tricolour)
Marianne; the Goddess of Liberty and bearer of Tricolour,
Triumphant French Republic revolutionary figure,
Evokes solidarity with breasts exposed and barefooted;
Wearing a Phrygian cap and armed with a bayonetted musket.
Personifier of liberty and reason for the French citizen,
Symbolizing wife, mother, and emancipated feminist.
From atop dead Parisians she leads victory’s charge;
« En avant les citoyens, la guerre n'est pas finie:
Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité; la démocratie prévaudra ! »
("Onward citizens, the war is not over:
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity; democracy will prevail!")
“Sing! Let ‘La Marseillaise’ reverberate throughout France!”
Le 14 juillet, la Fête Nationale (Bastille Day, the 14th of July);
« Vive le libre France! » ("Long live free France!")
Categories:
marseillaise, anniversary, celebration, education, french,
Form: Verse
Death – Remember me Tomorrow
Votre amour est tout ce que j'implore
Angels took us from France's shores
To the promised land of lady liberty
Hollywood glitter enticing us lovers with mystery
Living the past in a cinematic telling
Ironic that love was sourly spurned
By Bogart’s charming quilted misgivings
Madeline, later would sadly sing
La Marseillaise, while lovers embrace
Paris after dark, they disappear with no trace
Trains to death and boats to freedom
As Casablanca tells of romantic tales
Je suis vieux, est je suis seul
The beautiful one misses the past and you
All the ships have sailed and gone
It’s the cemetery now where I rest under lawn
Categories:
marseillaise, culture, death, funeral, music,
Form: Free verse