French is the language that turns dirt into romance.
quote by Stephen King
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Romance Bore Seduction
Hand blessed hand, caressed.
A blushing rose, her face;
Her breast alive;
The elfin nose, a diamond set -
A kiss upon perfection
Bore a rise of pulse
To coach a sultry moan
Across a mellow breath of wine.
He knew; he sensed,
And easing loose a clasp of lace,
Another sign of her relenting:
Wild the play of eyes,
A fuller glide of skin;
He felt the now begin -
Her swell, intention in the sigh.
And so to hedge his move upon the cue -
The cry of deep anticipation,
Waxing all he saw -
Tho' not for us to view -
Arrived, emotion raw.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
Now render to caressing waves of romance
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am a guest of the French language. My poems in French are born of my interaction with the French language, which is not the same as that of a French poet.
quote by Tahar Ben Jelloun
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Language Of Love
Excusez-moi, my pretty mademoiselle,
You are a french girl its easy to tell,
Me, I dont smoke not even a french cigarette,
But I love my pomme de terre,
And always croquette,
I am from angleterre and you are from france,
And you will honour me by having a dance.
Chorus:
Straight away!
Im getting ready for a new sensation,
Never kissed them in another nation,
Internationally Im in clover,
I was a native on the boat ride over,
Straight away!
Im getting ready for my new vocation,
I am the man who will unite the nations,
Ooh la la/how you say it/ca va-this is love,
La la la la la la la language of love.
La la la la la la la language of love.
La la la la la la la language of love.
Weve been together now for more than a day,
And I am waiting to hear what you say,
Come on, come on, I think youre telling me lies,
You are italian, I can tell by your eyes,
I love chianti and I hope youll agree,
That zefferelli makes the movies for me
Chorus repeated.
Instrumental
I try my french, latin, spanish and greek,
This is the language of love that I speak,
I never know if theyre from paris or rome,
We stop the talking when Im walking them home,
One little kiss and then heavens above,
This is the universal language of love.
Straight away!
Are you ready for a new sensation,
Im gonna kiss a girl from every nation,
(rest of chorus as before).
This is love-the language of love.
song performed by by Cliff Richard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Red Dirt Life
So many red dirt roads he’s traveled
Along his long red dirt life
Children born and raised with
His charming red dirt wife
A home was built and furnished
Upon his red dirt land
He’s done the very best he could
Always taking a red dirt stand
Red dirt roads that lead up to
A bridge to the other side
He tries to go right with the flow
Along life’s red dirt ride
And during that ride it seems
There are some pot holes in the road
But he just keep pluggin’ along you see
Just carrying his red dirt load
The streams and valleys continue
Until the end of his red dirt time
And when the sun beats down on him
He loves to see that red dirt shine!
poem by Marilyn Lott
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I grew up in France, my first language was French, and I tend to gravitate towards French cooking.
quote by Robert Stack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Air Fizzles
Oh joy, rejoice, oh sing my soul, tomorrow
a French class with Marali in charge, her
personality bright, she shines like a star
her enthusiasm for life infectious, she is
the essence of inspiration and conveys a
sense of wonder about the language she
teaches, the air fizzles while she is around
her excitement knows no bounds - firing
my imagination and leaving enough space
in which I can wonder and enjoy- I might
be slow in class, talking with difficulty
Drilling in basic grammar and analysing
language structure, I hope we shall follow
the rhythm of the language as it rises and
falls, the melody therein, every sentence
ending on a rising curve, indicative of the
questioning French soul, the deep mistrust
of benevolence infecting the typical French
mood setting the tone for their complaints
Oh joyous life, I am so glad that something
good is coming my way!
poem by Margaret Alice Second
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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English, once accepted as an international language, is no more secure than French has proved to be as the one and only accepted language of diplomacy or as Latin has proved to be as the international language of science.
quote by Edward Sapir
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dirt Bike
Here comes the dirt bike
Beware of the dirt bike
Because I hear theyre coming to our town
Theyve got plans for everyone
And now I hear theyre over their sophomore jinx, so you had better check it out
All hail the dirt bike
Philosopher dirt bike
Silence as we gathered round
We saw the word and were on our way
Now its
Brain washing dirt bike
Ground shaking dirt bike
Mind bending dirt bike
In control
Soul crushing dirt bike
Self propelled dirt bike
You see I never thought Id understand
til that bike took me by the hand
Now I ride
Ride
Ride
song performed by by They Might Be Giants
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The more English is heard in the world, the more gratifying it seems to speak French, and above all to know the culture of our country. They find a kind of French social grace in the language and culture.
quote by Bernard Pivot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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If French is no longer the language of a power, it can be the language of a counter power.
quote by Lionel Jospin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Melting Pot
many colored drops of rain,
as if the rainbow melted.
childrens' voices crying out,
different sounds, different languages.
all the same language.
millions of hands reaching for
a hand searching for a bridge.
hunger, need, and the emptiness
that drives, that prays, that bleeds.
all the same language.
kindred souls wrapped in fallen leaves,
that crumble, and return to dirt.
millions of eyes turned inward,
under the same sky, looking for tomorrow.
all the same language.
millions of eyes turned inward,
under the same sky, looking for today!
many colored drops of rain.
as if the rainbow melted.
all the same language.
all, speaking human!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Fine Romance
A fine romance, with no kisses
A fine romance, my friend this is
We should be like a couple of hot tomatoes
But youre as cold as yesterdays mashed potatoes
A fine romance, you wont nestle
A fine romance, you wont wrestle
I might as well play bridge
With my old maid aunt
I havent got a chance
This is a fine romance
A fine romance, my good fellow
You take romance, Ill take jello
Youre calmer than the seals
In the arctic ocean
At least they flap their fins
To express emotion
A fine romance with no quarrels
With no insults and all morals
Ive never mussed the crease
In your blue serge pants
I never get the chance
This is a fine romance
song performed by by Ella Fitzgerald
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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French, The Language Of Love
French, the Language of Love.
Darling, speak French to me when we make love, wicked words
I don’t understand, but have a whispering meaning of delight.
I stand before you with salutial erection, a soldier of love ready
to sacrifice myself for your subterranean pleasure.
Your wishes have to be expressed in French or the steed’s chase
will not react with proper force, It will think it’s time to go back
into the stable, hanging about, wondering what went wrong.
At the subway in Paris I was in the way of a woman who wanted
to exit, she swore at me, thinking it were words of love, I kissed
her and was arrested. But released, though when they understood
I was a foreigner, lost in the baffling ways of the French idiom.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Language of Translation
What could be a better language than the language of translation
A white curtain on which
All our handiwork stands apart like dirt
All crimes are perpetrated in mother tongues
Which always contain a discourse on innocence
There are times
When translation is the only place that has a remnant of sorts
The sound of tyranny in the native tongue
Is killing sympathy!
(Translated from Hindi by Bharatbhooshan Tiwari)
poem by Asad Zaidi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oboe Me Over
Strings of violins,
Can mean so many things.
To a heart,
Missing...
The kissing,
Of a touch dipped in romance.
Strings of violins,
Gently bowed by those who know...
The missing,
And touch that's kissed,
By one who seeks romance.
Oboe me over,
With French horns caressing my need.
Sweeping me up into ecstasy.
Enthralled am I,
And timpanied.
Oboe me over,
With French horns caressing my need.
Sweeping me up into ecstasy.
Enthralled am I,
And timpanied.
Captured I am in your rhapsody.
Those strings of violins,
Can mean so many things.
To a heart,
Missing...
The kissing,
Of a touch dipped in romance.
Strings of violins,
Played over and over again.
Will never for me end...
My quest to be romanced.
Ooohhh,
Bowl me over,
With French horns caressing my need.
Sweeping me up into ecstasy.
Enthralled am I,
And timpanied.
And,
Captured I am...
In your rhapsody.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Fine Romance
Dorothy fields / jerome kern
A fine romance, with no kisses
A fine romance, my friend this is
We should be like a couple of hot tomatoes
But youre as cold as yesterdays mashed potatoes
A fine romance, you wont nestle
A fine romance, you wont wrestle
I might as well play bridge
With my old maid aunt
I havent got a chance
This is a fine romance
A fine romance, my good fellow
You take romance, Ill take jello
Youre calmer than the seals
In the arctic ocean
At least they flap their fins
To express emotion
A fine romance with no quarrels
With no insults and all morals
Ive never mussed the crease
In your blue serge pants
I never get the chance
This is a fine romance
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cleaning Lady
She knows where the dirt settles
She knows how to clean
She knows how to wet the floor
And polish it to shine
Power of the vacuum
And reach of the broom
She knows her business
A true professional.
In chaos I see order
I know how the world moves,
Dynamics of dirt
And way things rust
Are hard for me to handle
All in a timely way.
At her hands
The faucets sparkle
Her touch turns
House to home
A smile will then
Light up the face.
poem by Tirupathi Chandrupatla
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dog Dirt
Dog dirt, you don’t wanna step on it,
Dog dirt, you don’t wanna slip on it,
Dog dirt, you need to watch your step,
Dog dirt; check yourself for any specks.
Now when I say dog dirt I mean my thoughts,
I’m using it as a metaphor incase I get caught,
Now I love her but I can’t tell her,
Because if she ever found out I’ll be feeling under the weather,
Together forever, probably never I think,
But all I do is think I just keep my mouth shut,
My thoughts are dog dirt,
Don’t touch or stumble on them or I’ll get hurt.
Dog dirt, you don’t wanna step on it,
Dog dirt, you don’t wanna slip on it,
Dog dirt, you need to watch your step,
Dog dirt; check yourself for any specks.
I hope that’s not crap on your shoe,
Because I accidentally wrote in that text I love you,
You replied I love you too if only it was true,
I’m a fool for ever falling for you,
I’m a fool defiantly if you ever step in my do, do,
I’ll zip my mouth closed so nothing blurts out,
I’ll rip my vocal cords out so that I can’t shout,
I’m a dreamer, but not a believer, trust me.
poem by Gaz illionaire
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Also, they don't understand - writing is language. The use of language. The language to create image, the language to create drama. It requires a skill of learning how to use language.
quote by John Milius
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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