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Just to see him come on the stage was an event. They had very high risers, and back a little bit, so he'd walk around behind the risers and right across the front of the stage to the podium, remember?
quote by Robert Ripley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It is only the early risers who succeed in filling their baskets with white ants.
Progress isn't made by early risers. It's made by lazy men trying to find easier ways to do something.
quote by Robert Heinlein
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paris, Please Accept Me, As A Human Refugee
paris................
o paris................
Y paris................
the patience, eating the happiness
the pain, eating the patience
and the pain, eating the pain
I AM SICK, paris
treat me, sister
paris................
o paris................
Y paris................
exile, on my papers
restrained, ..
in my lines
so free me, paris
treat me, paris
I BELONG TO YOU, ..
sister
my home, the colours of MONET
my room, is a water flower
my air..
is the scent of FRANCE
and my refuge..
is a place by RENOIR shrine
so take me paris..
as your..
renoirian..
REFUGEE.
poem by Ahmed Khaled
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Early Sunday Morning
I used to mock my father and his chums
for getting up early on Sunday morning
and drinking coffee at a local spot
but now I’m one of those chumps.
No one cares about my old humiliations
but they go on dragging through my sleep
like a string of empty tin cans rattling
behind an abandoned car.
It’s like this: just when you think
you have forgotten that red-haired girl
who left you stranded in a parking lot
forty years ago, you wake up
early enough to see her disappearing
around the corner of your dream
on someone else’s motorcycle
roaring onto the highway at sunrise.
And so now I’m sitting in a dimly lit
café full of early morning risers
where the windows are covered with soot
and the coffee is warm and bitter.
poem by Edward Hirsch
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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In Paris With You
Don't talk to me of love. I've had an earful
And I get tearful when I've downed a drink or two.
I'm one of your talking wounded.
I'm a hostage. I'm maroonded.
But I'm in Paris with you.
Yes I'm angry at the way I've been bamboozled
And resentful at the mess I've been through.
I admit I'm on the rebound
And I don't care where are we bound.
I'm in Paris with you.
Do you mind if we do not go to the Louvre
If we say sod off to sodding Notre Dame,
If we skip the Champs Elysées
And remain here in this sleazy
Old hotel room
Doing this and that
To what and whom
Learning who you are,
Learning what I am.
Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris,
The little bit of Paris in our view.
There's that crack across the ceiling
And the hotel walls are peeling
And I'm in Paris with you.
Don't talk to me of love. Let's talk of Paris.
I'm in Paris with the slightest thing you do.
I'm in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,
I'm in Paris with... all points south.
Am I embarrassing you?
I'm in Paris with you.
poem by James Fenton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Love Paris
Every time I look down on this timeless town,
Whether blue or gray be her skies,
Whether loud be her cheers, or whether soft be her tears,
More and more do I realize that...
I love paris in the spring time
I love paris in the fall
I love paris in the summer when it sizzles
I
Love paris in the winter when it drizzles
I love paris every moment
Every moment of the year
I love
Paris, why oh why do I love paris
Because my love is here
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Love Paris
Nat king cole
(cole porter)
(can-can)
Every time I look down on this timeless town
Whether blue or gray be her skies.
Whether loud be her cheers or soft be her tears,
More and more do I realize:
I love paris in the springtime.
I love paris in the fall.
I love paris in the winter when it drizzles,
I love paris in the summer when it sizzles.
I love paris every moment,
Every moment of the year.
I love paris, why, oh why do I love paris?
Because my love is near.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paris(Lil Sis)
Paris is her name
Paris she beautiful
she got a pretty smile
pretty walk
pretty size
Paris..
Nice
cool
real
short
loveable person
Paris
take what u got and work it
let your haterz hate
your haterz are your biggest fanz
show that beauty
stop hiding it..
To My Bestfriend/ Lil Sis Paris Aka Mizz Killin U H**z
poem by Angel Wade
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Paris Song
Paris so beautiful at night
And during the day is beautiful also
The Eiffel Tower is located in the center of Paris
But all the flowers in Paris are blooming in the parks
And at la seine
Yes spring is heret in Paris
And I am enjoying the spring
But the flowers in the parks here in Paris are beautiful
Because they are a show of colors
poem by Aldo Kraas
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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He Never Strays Far
London to Paris
Paris to Rome:
He never strays
far from his dear
country home,
where a kind
soul is waiting;
truth shines in
her eye, and the
green dales are
calling 'neath a
pink evening sky.
He never strays
far if springtime
is nigh ~ and
early tomorrow
back home he
must fly, to a
happier life in the
sweet by-and-by.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Going To Paris
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
As the storm gathers slowly
We eat fishheads and snails
The mate jumps up, throws down a line
To a man overboard for the ninetieth time
And then he says with a wink
Sometimes I think
Ive been doing this forever!
We are going to paris
In a ship called the ? ?
There are signs in the sky at night
That the captain says hes seen
I keep books under my pillow
And read them before I sleep
Strange places I go to,
Strange companies I keep
We are going to paris
We are one and thirty strong
I can feel it in the air
Well be there before long
The wind has come
Like a man insane, insane
We are going to paris
It rains and it rains
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
We are going to paris
In a ship with red sails
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paris in Spring
The city's all a-shining
Beneath a fickle sun,
A gay young wind's a-blowing,
The little shower is done.
But the rain-drops still are clinging
And falling one by one --
Oh it's Paris, it's Paris,
And spring-time has begun.
I know the Bois is twinkling
In a sort of hazy sheen,
And down the Champs the gray old arch
Stands cold and still between.
But the walk is flecked with sunlight
Where the great acacias lean,
Oh it's Paris, it's Paris,
And the leaves are growing green.
The sun's gone in, the sparkle's dead,
There falls a dash of rain,
But who would care when such an air
Comes blowing up the Seine?
And still Ninette sits sewing
Beside her window-pane,
When it's Paris, it's Paris,
And spring-time's come again.
poem by Sara Teasdale
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Azure-te
(b. davis, d. wolf)
Gone and got the blues in paris,
Paris blues called azure-te.
How can I be blue in paris?
Easy, cause youre far away.
Cant lose this blues,
This azure-te.
Moments, springtime, eiffel tower,
Funny taxes, kids at play.
Paris without you is lonesome,
Yearning more and more each day.
Cant lose this blues,
This azure-te.
~interlude~
If you knew how much I need you,
Youd come back to me to stay.
Having you with me in paris
Really is the only way
To lose this blues,
This azure-te.
Cant lose this blues,
This azure-te.
song performed by by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Early In The Morning
Early in the morning and I cant get right
Had a little date with my baby last night
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Now its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to all the places where we used to go
Went to your house but you dont live there no more
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to your friends house but she was out
Knock on your fathers door and he began to shout get out there boy
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Went to doogie chain to get something to eat
Waiter looked at me and said you sure look beat
Now its early in the morning (early in the morning)
Early in the morning (early in the morning)
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
Well its early in the morning
And I aint got nothing but the blues
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aux Ternes
(PARIS)
SHE. — 'Up and down, up and down,
From early eve to early day.
Life is quicker in the town;
When you've leisure, anyway!
'Down and up, down and up!
O will no one stop and speak?
I am fain to eat and sup,
All my limbs are heavy and weak.
'What's my price, sirs! I'm no Jew.
If with me you wish to sleep,
'Tis five francs, sirs. Surely you
Will admit that that is cheap?'
HE. — 'Christ, if you are not stone blind,
Stone deaf also, you know it is
Christian towns leave far behind
Sodom and those other cities.
'Bid your Father strike this town,
Wipe it utterly away!
Weary, hungry, up and down
From early eve to early day?
'Magdalen knew nought like this;
She had food and roof above;
Seven devils, too, did she possess;
This poor soul had but one — love!
THE OTHER. — 'No, Christ is not deaf nor blind;
He's but dust in Syrian ground,
And his Father has declined
To a parson's phrase, a sound.
'Not by such, then, but by us
These hell-wrongs must be redressed
Take this morsel venomous:
Nourish it within your breast.
'You must live on, live and hate;
Conquer wrath, despair and pain;
For ‘we bid you hope’ and wait
Till the Red Flag flies again:
'Till once more the People rise,
Once more, once and only once,
Blood-red bands and blazing eyes
Of the robbed and murdered ones!'
A part of Paris.
poem by Francis William Lauderdale Adams
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En Paris Ces't Ma Maison
En Paris Ces't Ma Maison
The Paris Skylight
Shines upon your rose room in the early morning.
Portraits of the sea
portraits of Monet and Renoir...serene
boating scenes
You saunter to your full-length mirror
you comb your soft silky hair.
Joy is in your heart...You have found
Paradise.
Your morning walk begins
You pass the Luxemborg Gardens
Le Belle fleur de jardin
A smile glistens off your face
The Arc De Trimphe...The symbol of Liberties de France
The beauty continues
with the Champs Elysees
and the Concorde
In Paris you have found your heart
your love
your home
Peter LeBuhn
Copyright ©2005 Peter B. Lebuhn
poem by Peter LeBuhn
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lovers In Paris
Nomore going lower,
Babie lets go higher,
Me and you on the tower,
Lovers in Paris
Je t'aime
Nomore of the oldest,
Babie strive for the newest,
The water is bluest,
Lovers in Paris,
Je t'aime
Nolonger be bitter,
Your eyes shall glitter,
The grass is now greener,
Lovers in Paris
Je t'aime
Take a closer look,
Shall I write you a book,
You and your new look,
Lovers in Paris
Je t'aime
Through water or by air,
Solong we reach there,
Without fright or fear,
Lovers in Paris,
Je t'aime
poem by Gaylord Munemo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Buddha at the Bodhi tree (Sri Lanka)
Here, to the oldest living tree
Pilgrims have flown, sailed, crawled and bussed
To feel its shade to know its strength
The world’s not owned but held in trust
It never withers, fresh shoots grow
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
Does not apply to such a tree
The world’s not owned but held in trust
Buddha, in this tree’s motherland
Had conquered self and fear and lust
Now every seed the message gives
The world’s not owned but held in trust
Treasures you covet, things possessed
Silver and gold all turn to rust
Others will claim your home, your land
The world’s not owned but held in trust
Your little self’s a puff of smoke
To every living thing be just
Power brings responsibilities
The world’s not owned but held in trust
The fluttering leaves eternal tell
Man’s not immortal, die we must
Live a full life but live it well
The world’s not owned, but held in trust
poem by Sheena Blackhall
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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