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    A Rose for You
    A Rose for You
    A Rose for You
    Ebook195 pages1 hour

    A Rose for You

    By Floran Cazeau

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    About this ebook

    Poetry
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTrafford Publishing
    Release dateNov 11, 2011
    ISBN9781466902664
    A Rose for You
    Author

    Floran Cazeau

    Hello dear readers, Floran is back with this new book and you will find him full of enthusiasm this time in a new decor but animated of the same passion. This book is presented in two parts or chapters, in a dualism of languages English and French to accommodate, in a general manner, the readers of both worlds. Now that he presents "A Rose For You," and he is sure you will find your rose of this bouquet of poems that is for all of you readers craving for passion or who dream to find a discrete space for your soul to withdraw or relax.

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      Book preview

      A Rose for You - Floran Cazeau

      INTRODUCTION

      image001.tif

      There would be no meaning to life if it was not meant to be shared with others, even when it leaves us its absence is divided between those who still live it.We share life in our every day labours, at the office, at workshop, in the fields,on the streets, in our works whatever their form and nature,at the temples, in our passions, our tears and our casual encounters.Yes we share life with all beings in whom it resides, whatever they are humans, animals and even surrounding trees.Maybe we do not realize that our life comes down to compiled crumbs of life from the lives of all beings around us. I am pleased to realize how my life has been linked to other lives, and am very delighted to have the ability and the light that allows me to contribute my part of life to others by the pen, through my feelings that are inspired by the contribution of surrounding living beings.

      So many times we woke up on a gay day full of promises, but unfortunately later become darkened by some unpleasant incident or a mishap of the sudden death of a parent or friend, or even a passerby hit from an accident.

      Life, yes this life we’re living is not ours but that we have the opportunity, in our wisdom, to manage until it is gone.Let’s be happy to be alive and to have this noble opportunity to share life even when our perverse desires tend to disturb every positive thing we partake.....I love you all, and even those of you I do not know yet but I hope to meet some day. Let us love one another despite our differences, and all that will greatly contribute to the glory and joy of Heaven.

      A rose for you;

      And enjoy your reading.

      MAN

      Man is this animal

      and reasonable being

      who does not know what he wants

      when he has everything he wants,

      but who knows what he wants

      when he has nothing.

      He chooses anxiety and trouble

      when happiness smiles at him,

      and dies to be happy when

      pain and despair gnaw him.

      He chooses to live when life

      turns its back on him,

      but that he wants to die

      when life fills him

      and surrounds him.

      He wants to love

      when love forsook him so long ago,

      but that he has abused

      and mistreated love

      when served to him

      and made his slave.He curses the rain

      when he sees himself

      wading in water

      and craves for a drop of water

      when the rain sulks him.

      He chooses hell as Heaven

      holds out its arms to him,

      but a day later he will curse himself

      for being in hell

      when he was searched for

      desperately by Heaven.He’s irritated against the sun

      for smiling at him,

      and shivers with cold

      when the sun closes its door.

      but yes we, men,

      do not really know what we want

      when we are endowed

      with almost all the intelligence

      that God has blown,

      all this may be because

      we’re cursed by Heaven..

      image003.tif

      POETRY

      Poetry loves passionately the pen

      for its charm and elegance

      even when it does not light.

      She runs free and wanders

      like a thunderbolt in the arms

      that delight and spin it.

      Poetry does not envy nor criticize.

      Launched into the air like a wave

      she embraces all beings and things

      that life espouses.

      So rich in joy

      she flies from space to space,

      and from flower to flower

      in her beautiful gown,

      just to land in the poet’s thought

      she cajoles and caresses

      in her eternal race.

      Poetry goes normally free.

      she overflows like a beast in bait

      when imprisoned.

      Poetry is not invented

      nor can it be produced.

      She jumps

      where her sensations are quenched,

      and espouses the hearts

      that set it free.

      Poetry is that art so rare

      which extends and shines

      like a beacon.

      Beautiful and Young,

      though born

      since the creation of the world

      without impurities,

      she abounds in its verve.

      Poetry is universal

      she thrives in all souls,

      she concubines all thoughts,

      and escapes as a swallow

      in its dramatic surge,

      to cling to without delay

      In the arms of a suitor in flame.

      Poetry is careless

      even when prostituted

      or abused

      in her lengthy jouneys.

      She enjoys and amuses itself

      to never die,

      where passions populate.

      Poetry mourns or rejoices.

      It all depends on the nature

      of the mood that blows on it.

      She sings all night

      love songs that appeal

      or, again, in the same pen

      she starts to cry a lonely heart in pain.

      SEPTEMBER ELEVEN TWO THOUSAND ONE

      Boom! It is half past nine in the morning

      this is September eleven two thousand and one

      something explodes outside

      but this is not the train.

      We look out the window

      but there is nothing unusual

      the sanitation truck perhaps?

      Boing! Boing! The phone rings

      But what is happening, Huh!

      My cousin at the other end

      calling all frustrated and shaken

      to tell me of a tragic scene.

      Hello, is that you?

      Serious disaster inNew York city

      Go ahead and hurry up!

      Turn on the TV this is serious!

      I turn unto the TV

      what a terrible disaster!

      The World Trade Center in fire.

      People flit here and there

      like ants in a melee

      seeking to escape such terror

      in the gray mist of dust and dirt

      escaping from the upper part

      of the fabulous building

      already fallen in ruins.

      The people outraged, cry deplorably

      while trying to guess the origin of this calamity.

      It is claimed by some witness

      that it could be an accident

      of a jet plane in distress

      that crashed on the marketing monument,

      as others think it to be a terrorist incident.

      Boom! Here is yet another plane thrown

      upon the poor building already kneeled

      but now collapses as blown.

      The whole nation falls in an absolute thrill

      when suddenly we learn much disappointed

      that the the state of Pennsylvania and the Pentagon

      Just have been hit

      where two of our jet planes are thrown

      full of innocent passengers.

      New York City and neighboring towns

      have been all on the freeze

      as the airspace is declared closed,

      only military jets navigate the

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