They closed the cheesemonger down our street.
Another bit of Paris is gone,
thanks to the supermarket.
I used to buy my cheese at the cheesemongers
all fresh and wrapped
in greaseproof paper.
I tried it at the supermarket,
it was wrapped in polythene
and tasted stale.
I now walk a mile into the 19th
To find a cheesemonger.
But he’s losing trade,
he told me “the young no longer loves France.”
and I had to agree.
—
Marie St. Denis
______________
Our eyes drank in the swarms of dreams
that lay dead on the battlefield.
Each man had a mother,
others also has wives and children.
Now they were just rotting flesh
thanks to the men of war.
The men who promised
that we are dying for our country,
instead of for their companies,
firms that hold the lies
that start the wars.
Such men do not die,
such men might have mothers, yes,
but do they know their fathers?
We step over the bodies,
find one man still dying
and crying for his mother
to help him get better.
The swarms of dreams are gone,
the swarms of flies continues.
—
Jacques du Lumière
________________
Comments (43)
i loved the first one so very much.
but this ‘he told me the young no longer loves France.’
i dont agree.
The juxtaposition of swarms, with “dreams” and “flies” next to each other, is such a striking image…sad, but striking.
The first poem? Dirty progress
The second poem? A sad reality
I could write a much longer blog on the things that do not provoke HAPPINESS.
Happiness is only a fleeting moment, and it doesn’t make a daily appearance either. Have A GOOD DAY, L.P. May it be serene! RITA
i do wonder how you get your inspirations in penning such poems !!
well lets face it you are a famous xanga poet
lol, utterly brilliant… so far i havent sent much off.. not altogether sure i want too.. 
remarkable poems on different sides of loss.
Wow. You are one awesome poet.
These are great.
Lots of thoughts going on here.
both very intersting.
I am so glad to hear from you, I know you have been busy.
Stay warm and healthy
I always love Jacques du Lumiere. Do you have a collection of “his” poems anywhere…online or otherwise. I’d love to be able to sit down with a glass of wine and read more than one at a time. ~jacki
Second oh so true.
I have often wondered how a mother can possibly withstand the thought of her son or daughter dying alone and in pain. That would be enough to drive me mad.
Yes, Terry, the innocence of those early years are but a memory now but thankfully the oldest memories are intact…just the short term ones are shot!!! I am glad you have some happy ones even tho they turned ugly in the end. Wouldn’t it be great if we could selectively erase those ugly ones?
From the lyrics of “The Way We Were”
“Memories can be beautiful and yet
Those too painful to remember
We simply choose to forget”
If only it were that simple!!!
RE: your comment on my sisters site. Do you mean Ken Dod. Is he still going? He must be about a thousand years old by now.
Remix means that I have edited and made significant changes to a piece I previously posted….that I wrote….
thanks for the Jacques link : ) ~jacki
thrown back in my face, yes, like dirty dirty throw.
ps: the story is a metaphor to some other incident.
Wow – astonishing!
The first seemed like a verbal canvas – like something sad that you see hanging on a wall in a museum. The second one just rips your heart out.
The first poem reminds me of my lament over the fact that there are no more good chinese restaurants anymore because of all the cheap take-out ones and forget about getting a real pizza anymore. And it’s not just the taste and the quality of the products but the neighborliness and the interaction with the old school vendors and business folks of the community. …I miss all of that, too. The demise of quality is like a virus. …Hey there’s a poem in that.
You’ve read enough of my opinionated verbiage by now to know how deeply I am feeling that second poem.
Thanks for your imput. My words aren’t meant to be a sing-along style….I just write in MY style. I guess I’m not conventional.
No-one writes about man’s stupidity and its tragedies the way you do – with a disarming simplicity perhaps like The Songs of Innocence you reach into the darkest places of depravity, the battle field itself, with its dead dreams floating among the wasted bodies, wasted lives, the weeping for the comfort of the mother, and show how damaging man’s ways are to his very essence. Disarming simplicity on some of the most complex and difficult issues that we face… The interplay between the two, one so readable, almost a child’s voice of clarity and insight, easy rhythmic scan of lines and stanzas, and the other, the topic, so dense and difficult and irreconcilably sad because unecessary, eminently preventable, is what I love most about your poetry. xo
Oh, my dearest dear, depth of irony~always I have this word for your work~but ’tis true, I swear~
You see, the voices of your Poetry echo~throughout all the yesterdays and tomorrows~resting only on today for a moment~
This is what makes you eternal~This is what makes you a Poet~This is what has been given to you~Whether you choose to accept it~or no~’tis there just the same~
Many Blessings~
yeah, too many of the young just want iPods or fictitious things and nonsense, not grasping what they are losing, it seems culture is fading in this grand effort at “globalization”, and that it will soon just be a lesson in textbooks.
peace
John
as to the first poem, i liken it to an old house, maybe turn of the century, of course it’s not made of cheese…LOL…but is torn down to make a parking lot …you miss it’s beauty and history…
as to the second poem, i watched a historical show on the “Battle of Antiem”…during our Civil War in the 1860′s, 23,000 men died in 12 hours in that battle…is it really what WE fight for, or is it just inbred into us?????
Thanks for the referal to a fellow xangan….a little more harsher but I liked it, thanks
Referring to your comments on mine .Why don’t you use a stick or like out here, a lot of men have these walkers ,at least they support you, and if you want to get your own back you can push it into their legs ,but I don’t, as out here they are pretty good they walk away from you ,sometime you get a shopping cart pushed up your backside ,my comments to them make them hurry away. Cheers marj
I hope that doesn’t happen in my town. Nothing like the small stores.
RYC: That is one great advise i have ever received …from a man
thank you LP 
Your site is so interesting! Hope all is going well for you.
this is so sad and so true.. losing all the crafts and real things in life for mass produced and stale.. the flies collecting where the dreams are dying is a sad realism too… Well done and wish they weren’t so true..
Thank you, LordP. I had to laugh cos it wasn’t a link, I merely had it underlined …and yes, the other journals are more private, too twisted to be entirely made public. I’m glad it didnt freak anyone out as yet, and if you enjoyed it I may paste more of it on my site in future …
France is beautiful, and I am totally awed by its beauty and traditions, its so sad no one is appreciating it anymore …
The second write was BRAVO. I hate wars …. Have a great week ahead pls.
Nice reflections on change and loss.
dear Lord in responses it is worth the walk & wait for the real thing & optomistically in a real time dream i saw the battlefield cleansed when the weaver closed the rip in heaven as leaves stayed on trees when they were scheduled to come tumbling down thanx for ur words from any facade magi
Caught up with my reading here on LordP and enjoyed seeing some of Sophies writing, hers is always fairly light and pleasant. The poem about the rape was disconcerting and sad as I know this happens in real life and that is a sad statement of fact.
The experience in the market hits close to home as I remember being able to purchase like the poem is talking about. The big stores are killing the independents and it does nothing for the landscape or for the personality of an area. I liked it the old way myself same as Marie St Denis
All in all I enjoyed the writing, thank you,
Becca
the first poem… makes me think of how different life is overseas (and how much I miss it!) and how not only the young, but the “new world” U.S. doesn’t appreciate the old world and the old ways.
the first one is rather sad..and i must disagree w/the first one..i am young, i <3 france, and i like cheese. so there. lol.
I have no idea what Bush plans to do that’s for sure. He will probably smile like Howdy Doody and let the other ones run the show. GRRRR. I hated inaugeration day.
It has become my mission in life to eat cheese from France. You make it sound nice. I have never been to France, but I have been to Quebec, where the people were insulting. In my young state, I found that particularly offensive. I can see thinking you are cool because you are French (hey, sterotypes were all I had. I later had a French exchange student pop even that bubble.) But not because you were from Quebec. I never went back to Canada. Though I think it would be a very different experience now.
I am rambling. What I meant to say was…dig the poems, Terry.
Even in this cold, my hat’s off to you
Nice word ” Cheesmonger” It sounds very old and ,o more of this time. Hier in Brussels is the contrary, there are more and more nice fresh cheeses and the best are at the markt places.
You will not believe it but there is a brussels cheese, there are some cows somewhere in the city making milk.
If the cheesemongers just changed they name in Cheese boutique oe something funcy, make combinations with wine or bier could able to resist the supermarkts.
The battle field could be a classical poem.
In swarms of flies or in swarms of lies?
Why people when in distress always call for mother?
As you say we are sure of one mother but never sure how many fathers. Humanity is a mess.
Thaks for sharing your poetry.
My friend, can you come up with one about a woman who gave all to a man who still grieved his dead wife? I am feeling so sad right now…I just can’t think, eat and everything else….
Cheesemongers…we hardly have butcher shops here anymore either.
The second poem was so real and so like what I feel about the current world situation.
I have read all the poems on this page(these and Sophie and Terry’s) and am overwelmed with emotion.
If you say that last bit quickly, “swarms of flies” becomes “swarms of lies”. Interesting.
It’s hard to get good cheese these days.
((((Hugs))))) Thank you, Terry for your kind words… they mean so much. I’m sorry but we will not get to have that pint together this summer… he and I are… no more… (cries) I’ve been replaced.