"frenchy" poems
During a clear night of autumn,
At the other end of Europe,
You came to life
So easily, so peacefully
Without a strife
Even making me to worry.
You were already as you are now,
Quiet, secret, colourful,
Like all the stripes of a rainbow.
The very day
of your first birthday,
You started to walk.
When you were two,
You started to talk,
Your dark eyes
Searching in my ocean blue
Clues like united spies,
What is wrong, what can be true,
This innocent curiosity
I find challenging and funny.
When you were three,
You broke your arm.
When you were four,
We moved to another country,
Where you had to learn
To be a little Frenchy.
When you were five,
During a cold winter night,
You were sleeping
When our worst nightmare
Became reality.
When you were seven,
Your newborn sister took you to heaven.
Now, when you have too much of Elle
For a second, you are close from hell.
Now the years are passing by
Like speedy clouds in the sky.
You are growing,
Walking to school with friend,
Without knowing
That, to this race I would like to put an end.
Sometimes I regret
Not to take enough time
To tell you yet
How much I love you
How much I am proud of little you.
Stay as you are
In my night, be a star,
And let me say,
Happy Birthday.
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 5:46 PM UTC
Sometimes I stick out from my friends a bit - I think. It’s the French in me. Americans have this excité-ment about things - that’s, well, exhausting.
Sometimes, when friends are jumping about, they practically plead for my engagement. I think I have a genetic, French reticence, an observer gene.
True, I have my moments of bitter COVID lock-down angst but I'm doing better than some friends. Maybe because the French live slowly - life is just moments - once a moment has passed, it’s gone.
I wait, in my secret gardens, like a cat on a settee, sipping small pleasures. The poet in me refuses to zone out - there are poems in the stillness.
Nov 15, 2020
Nov 15, 2020 at 7:38 AM UTC
A short man who looks like Popeye, he has that grin, and his name is Edward. I worked with him the other day, he was slowly trying to communicate with me, I wasn't in the mood. I had been up for almost 27 hrs. I went to the washroom and the locker room smelled like cheap dope; there was a man hiding in the corner smoking a cigarette. The back of the factory has more freedom, the television is blasting, radios are blaring. People are always shouting, and the leader Richard, the crazy frenchy is telling me my father’s gone ******** and he can’t work anymore.
Aug 24, 2013
Aug 24, 2013 at 3:10 AM UTC
My dad was on Omaha Beach but he
didn’t talk much about it so now
I’m going to take the rest of the day
to tell you all that he didn’t much talk about
we broke the Enigma code yeah we did
you can always tell a real veteran by
his thousand-yard stare, yessir, I know stuff
we kicked the Germans’ butts but he didn’t talk
much about it if not for us the French
would be speaking German yeah man yeah
when I was in graduate school but he
didn’t talk much about it we saved the world
when I was in graduate school when I
saw Patton those liberals in academia
he had this thousand-yard stare them snowflakes
wouldn’t hit Omaha Beach now they’d be browning
their pants when I was in graduate school
but he didn’t talk much about it yeah
that M-1 was the best battle implement
ever devised I got me one and boy
it’s got some serious stopping power yessir
I just love to go out to the range and pop some caps
with that bad boy the French are cheese-eating
surrender monkeys we can’t depend on the Italians
but he didn’t talk much about it when I
was in graduate school thousand-yard stare
my dad was there he didn’t talk much about it
here is a youtube about it if only
those snowflakes would watch Patton they’d learn something
left-wing academia he didn’t talk much about it
when I was in graduate school yeah man
I seen it on Band of Brothers liberal elites
Macron Macron Macron first front second front
‘cause I know stuff I got a whole liberry
but he didn’t talk much about it if not
for us yeah you’d all be speaking German
we saved France’s **** when DeGaulle told us
he wanted all American soldiers out of France
we asked him if that included the thousands
of American soldiers in French cemeteries
and that sure shut him up ha ha ha
bet you never heard that before and then
there was these old veterans at the airport
and this Frenchy asked them for their passports
and this old man had to look for his
and this Frenchy asked this veteran if he
had been in France before and this veteran
said he had and then this Frenchy he said
then you know you need to have your passport
ready and this here old veteran said that he
was at Normandy and there wasn’t no Frenchies
to give it to and you could hear a pin drop
ha ha I bet you never heard that one before
When I was in graduate school when I
was on my gap year but he didn’t talk much about it
snowflake liberal elites in academia
I love me my AK-47 that son
spits out some serious lead but he didn’t
talk much about it…
Me? Like, I had this deferment, my feet,
but I know all about it ‘cause I watch John Wayne
and my dad was in it so I guess he ought to know
and he was in a real war; you were only in
like you know them A-rabs and stuff…
Jun 3, 2019
Jun 3, 2019 at 4:05 PM UTC
The French language to you, was little more than an inheritance
It was the promise between mother and daughter that a grandchild ought to know the language they used
In Bonnyville, they occupy the church, the Sobeys, the liquor store with that butchered accent
The hybrid between Quebecois French and rural Albertan English - ugly, and indecisive
You don’t live in Bonnyville, where the French roam free
The French in Edmonton feels lost, almost unknown
Poorly funded buildings house these Franco-albertans - children with the same inheritance as you
Immersion becomes a ***** word,
worthy of contempt and disgust
All the French kids know each other,
forced to grow up together while being deprived of options
They all go to the same university - the small francophone campus which stands unimpressive in the only neighbourhood in Edmonton where stop signs say ‘arrêt’
Oil Country, home for the right and prosperous, they don’t like you
You, you’re Francophone -
Stuck up, snobby, pretentious...
Besides, there are no such things as Franco-albertans.
What could you be other than an invented term by some lost souls?
You aren’t French enough -
Alberta is an English speaking province.
The time you went to France,
someone asked if you were French-Canadian
Before you could reply, your friends spun your story - something believable, commendable...
your parents, lived in Montreal, and moved to Alberta with their wholly French children
Your father grew up in Edmonton,
memorizing the parks and malls by name
while your mother lived on a dairy farm, living in french - the ugly acadienesque french.
But, to everyone around you, it’s much more believable that you are a stranger to this province.
Maybe you are.
Sep 14, 2019
Sep 14, 2019 at 12:38 PM UTC
Short of a few letters but is the word; A
Canada came at us with that frenchy eh?
Looking around for the better days
No life of social but I'm getting paid
Joe dirt I'm on my David *****
It's funny but it's true give me the time of day
NB come at me I'm the best NA
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 1:40 PM UTC
You aren’t on my mind every second
It’s not that I’m always thinking of you
I simply get reminded of you
You are all hidden throughout my world
And each reminder makes me think of you
Multiple times through my day
And with each
Comes a little bit of hope
A little bit of calm
Little bit of you
A little bit of love
E
I hear you in every song that instills in me hope and love
In ever word that comforts my crying eyes
I see you in every elephant, real or statue,
In every saxophone
In every street corner with skid marks from drifting
I feel you in every hug,
Every hand hold
In every laugh
And in every tear.
You are in every day that I’m happy to be alive
Frenchy
You’re present in every day, mostly literally, but sometimes not
I see you in every frenchy fry
In every meme, especially bert and Ernie
In everything Disney
In twinkling Christmas lights
In dorky posts that fangirls over friends
In every friendship I observe
I
I hear you in every song that makes me jam
And every situation where it’s hard to make a decision
In every dog bark or cat meowing
I feel you in every fuzzy blanket, sock, or hoodie
In every cuddle, or jumping puddle
You are in everyday that gives me a sense of pure joy or child like wonder
In every thing that brings me joy, in every day that I’m alive, in every sound that brings with it a memory, you are there.
I may not think of you at every second
But I promise you
You’re with me in every day.
I don’t know how many different ways there are to love a person
But I think you two are my favourites.
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 4:13 PM UTC
her name
it always came back to her beautiful ******* name
want to know how to make me truly happy for a moment?
say her name.
then watch as the hope from my face drops as quickly as it came
as I turn away blinking back petty tears
then cease to even look at you for the rest of the day
and barely engage in conversation for the rest of the week
not to mention the multiple bandages that appear along my arms and legs and stomach
her smile
I never saw it
after all we never sent each other pictures
just two kids talking across the world from each other
one trying to save the other
not knowing yet why anyone would dare cut their skin on purpose:
me
the one resisting to be saved:
her
trying not to put all her problems on me
knowing I was stupid enough to believe an 'I'm fine.'
sometimes smiling however at my lame jokes
and as I began to say
I never saw it
but I felt it
I felt it coming all the way from wherever she lived
it could have been down the road for all I know, we don't talk to our neighbours much
but even if she was living in Australia
I felt her smile
her voice
I never heard it
but I knew what it sounded like
deep
but smooth like honey
comforting and sweet
the best sound in the world
the only reason I could fall asleep at night
her gay posts on G+
the place we met
the place where I learned
she was gay as heck
the place I learned
I was bi as heck
the place she gave me a nickname
It had been a nice thing to do when you were young,
sending kiss emojis to your friends.
She took this as a romantic gesture
yet knew that when I did it, it was for fun.
She called me 'Frenchy'.
as in french kissing
except we said it was short for something else
'French fries', the American way of saying 'chips'
I found it fun
I called her 'Lavender'
Because I love the smell of it
I love the name
it helps me fall asleep still
plus
I could call her 'Lav' for short
which sounds like 'Love' if you think about it
I didn't mean it in any way like that though
Not at the time.
There were many things she said to me
that I will keep forever
locked away in the deep dungeons of my heart
never to be exposed
for fear someone might know too much
no friends for me, thank you. no one could be like KC.
However there is one thing I would like to share.
I posted a picture because I liked it's background.
It's quote meant nothing to me
at the time
It said
'I just want someone to hold me and tell me I'm not as worthless as I think I am.'
Only one comment.
From KC.
From Lavender.
She said
"You're not worthless Frenchy, you're priceless."
I,
being the way I was at the time,
replied with a
"Thanks Lavender, you too
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 6:17 PM UTC