{"id":8310,"date":"2023-05-08T19:04:38","date_gmt":"2023-05-08T19:04:38","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/?p=8310"},"modified":"2023-05-08T19:04:38","modified_gmt":"2023-05-08T19:04:38","slug":"where-have-all-the-fishes-gone-further-poems-by-fabrice-b-poussin","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/where-have-all-the-fishes-gone-further-poems-by-fabrice-b-poussin\/","title":{"rendered":"Where Have all the Fishes Gone?& Further Poems by Fabrice B. Poussin"},"content":{"rendered":"
\r\nWhere Have all the Fishes Gone?<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nSitting atop the cliff overlooking\r\nthe ocean vast\r\nwe hold one another\r\nin awe of its innumerable mysteries.\r\n\r\nThe sun sets calmly for us\r\nrises with deft determination\r\non the other side\r\nof a blue horizon.\r\n\r\nNot a sound\r\nemerges from the deep waters\r\nclean of all lives that once were\r\nancestors some say to our kin.\r\n\r\nWhere have they all gone\r\nwhy extinct so soon into fossils\r\nimprints per chance left in the stone\r\nthat tell of so distant an evolution.\r\n\r\n\r\nWelcome to the World of Nice<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nThe world nearly came to an absolute stop when\r\nthe wizard suddenly halted his incantations\r\nthe fires he had set ablaze reflecting upon his pale brow.\r\n\r\nFor centuries he had roamed the planet\r\na weathered wand in his mummified grip\r\nhis face oozing with the harm he could cause.\r\n\r\nAnother in a glorious evening grace\r\nambled like royalty among the populace\r\nsizing each one of her kin as a victim.\r\n\r\nTall above armies of humble servants\r\nshe made them dependent of every whim\r\nshe might have dreamed up in her solitary chambers.\r\n\r\nShe too paused when the child cried\r\nfor this Amazon who had never known pain\r\nher frame near collapse she let go of her aim.\r\n\r\nThe thousands assembled for what they expected\r\nwas to be yet a list of grievances and threats\r\nlooked in amazement at these meek creatures.\r\n\r\nNever had a soul caught a glimpse of pain\r\nin the eyes of those unforgiving executioners\r\nuntil the tear of a child fell upon their feet.\r\n\r\nThe giants stepped down from the pedestal\r\ngreeted by embraces never imagined of those\r\nwho still bore the scars of their millennial tortures.\r\n\r\nWhile the poor wake in a pool of chagrin\r\nno one knew the few in satin and pearl\r\ncould weep and fall to the yoke of a babe.\r\n\r\n\r\nSuffering to Rest<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nShe can tell the throb will persist\r\nInto a night of pleasant slumber\r\nfeeling a tug at her secret fibers.\r\n\r\nContemplating the past hours\r\nwhen glee echoed through the halls\r\nattempts to calm still fail.\r\n\r\nInto a slanted mirror an image\r\nseeks to smile at this solemn reflection\r\nsubdued by the numbing liquid of her pain.\r\n\r\nDocile as with every passing dawn\r\nsomething has changed in the blood\r\nshed again upon the dusk of a precious hour.\r\n\r\nSoon again she will share her pleasure\r\nwhen the day\u2019s memories turn to dust\r\nand her flesh finds rest in the thin night.\r\n\r\nHard to Be <\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nMerely standing hands upon the wooden rails\r\nstaring into a background of dense forest\r\nhe might find rest on a Sunday\u2019s morn\u2019 when\r\n\r\nhis thoughts quickly move to the millions\r\nlike him who contemplate the world\r\nconsidering how little they can see he holds \r\n\r\na cup of a dark brew in hand, early smoke in the other\r\nhis desperation grows as he longs\r\nfor the visions others cannot share and\r\n\r\nhe imagines so many there with him\r\ngazing into the same surroundings \r\ntheir perception so different from his he\r\n\r\nconsiders the one who inspires him \r\nif only he could be within her as she takes all in\r\nbecome an intimate part of who she is for\r\n\r\nhe feels so much missing from his being\r\nlost smaller than a speck of minute dust\r\nwhile an infinity of interpretations exists yet\r\n\r\nonly this microcosm of the infinite belongs to him\r\nso insignificant as he must remain until at last\r\nhe might be freed from this temporary prison and\r\n\r\nbecome like all those before him\r\na piece of the universal puzzle\r\nthe matter of all that is the cosmos. \r\n\r\n\r\nFeeling the sounds.<\/em><\/strong>\r\n\r\nUpon a saunter as is his common dominion\r\nhe pushes through the brush of a dense forest\r\nafter the storm left its gentle coat\r\non every living thing like a shroud of life.\r\n\r\nNothing speaks, everything rests yet\r\nawaiting reassurance that it is safe again to be\r\nand he continues, puzzled by the uncanny silence\r\nlooking for a sign that all is well still.\r\n\r\nAnd there it is, a murmur brushes against his flesh\r\nan eerie sensation of sound, of sight\r\nof scent, touch and even taste\r\nfrom whence it is born he cannot tell.\r\n\r\nIt must be her at last in the late hour\r\nsince darkness will soon prevail\r\nand she always visits him in his sleep\r\nwhen his dreams become real as the present.\r\n\r\nShe surrounds him with an infinite coat\r\nmade with all a soul can endure\r\nhe hears the voice of her wholeness speak\r\nwithout a word, but it is to be eternal. <\/pre>\n
 
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\nFabrice B. Poussin<\/strong> teaches French and English at Shorter University. Author of novels and poetry, his work has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes<\/em>, and many other magazines. His photography has been published in The Front Porch Review, the San Pedro River Review as well as other publications. Most recently, his collection \u201cIn Absentia,\u201d<\/em> was published in August 2021 with Silver Bow Publishing.
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Where Have all the Fishes Gone? Sitting atop the cliff overlooking the ocean vast we hold one another in awe of its innumerable mysteries. The sun sets calmly for us rises with deft determination on the other side of a blue horizon. Not a sound emerges from the deep waters clean of all lives that … Read more<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[833,808,796,366,401,43],"tags":[18,136,3],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8310"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8310"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8310\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8312,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8310\/revisions\/8312"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8310"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8310"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.artvilla.com\/plt\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8310"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}