A Paris State Of Mind
It was the Paris feeling of it all
assaulting my senses
as I slumbered and dreamed
on imagined European time
White noise buzzed
with sophisticated speak
clicking on cobblestone
to Chanel boutique snobbery
As the Eiffel Tower loomed large
drenching the city in warmed light
my dreams paused, to images of home
longing for Lady Liberty, a fine french gift
Scents of the city of lights cling tightly
lavender, roses and mint leaves
hurry me back to my imagined luxury
dreaming of the Hotel Le Bristol Paris
The french sandman sprinkles gold dust
here in no man's land, dream world central
still safe and sound in my trance
the time ticks and I continue to float
I notice the pace of the country
no rat race rules, or impossible schedules
they march to a different beat
cafe's, wine, and enjoying life
As I begin to slowly wake
and find my way through this foggy haze
my final image of Paris in my dream
is a speeding car, hitting the thirteenth pillar
in the Alma tunnel.
Some things are never forgotten.
poem by Robin Bennett
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Related quotes
In A Paris State Of Mind
It was the Paris feeling of it all
assaulting my senses
as I slumbered and dreamed
on imagined European time
White noise buzzed
with sophisticated speak
clicking on cobblestone
to Chanel boutique snobbery
As the Eiffel Tower loomed large
drenching the city in warmed light
my dreams paused, to images of home
longing for Lady Liberty, a fine french gift
Scents of the city of lights cling tightly
lavender, roses and mint leaves
hurry me back to my imagined luxury
dreaming of the Hotel Le Bristol Paris
The french sandman sprinkles gold dust
here in no man's land, dream world central
still safe and sound in my trance
the time ticks and I continue to float
I notice the pace of the country
no rat race rules, or impossible schedules
they march to a different beat
cafe's, wine, and enjoying life
As I begin to slowly wake
and find my way through this foggy haze
my final image of Paris in my dream
is a speeding car, hitting the thirteenth pillar
in the Alma tunnel.
Some things are never forgotten.
poem by Robin Bennett
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
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He Said...
He said the air was better in Paris.
In Paris we could breathe
Like we never could
Here in the little home I had built.
So...
I left with him
For the better air
And wine and cheese and cafes and Paris
And because I too wanted to breathe.
Yesterday he left
For Spain and Spanish things
And the little Flamenco dancer
From the Café...
Outside my window
The rain pounds mercilessly on the roses he planted for me...
Such lovely things,
So sad to see them die.
poem by Vaun Moore
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Paris Finale
This is total junk
and the opposite of what I want
How life guides me
has never been righty!
CHORUS:
But the Paris Finale
Brought back memories
of those days where I dream
of the city that seemed...
A BEAUTY!
Now I'm feeling better
Because I've just seen whatever
Life and Dreams come together
For the feelings that will last forever!
CHORUS
Paris Finale is a dream, a beam, where you cross with wisdom.(repeat and fade)
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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London To Paris
Paris, the city of gaiety
Paris, oh city so bright
Paris, with girls continental
We are crossing the Channel tonight.
Euros we will spend by 'the plenty'
As soon as we step on your shore.
We love pretty girls continental
The shine in their eyes we adore.
We'll reach the top of the 'Eiffel'
Admiring the wonderful sight,
And we'll walk along the Champs Elysees
As we visit the City of Culture tonight.
poem by Joyce Hemsley
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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
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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
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Postcards From Paris
postcards from paris
Dear friend of my mine
The weather's fine
Today i saw some ruins of the roman world's decline
And i climbed all those spanish steps
You've heard of them no doubt
But rome has lost its glory, i don't know what its about.
I wish you were here
When the shadows fall and all the rushing traffic's still
I wish you were here
When the bells are ringing on the seven hills
I make my way to a small cafe, i wonder what you did today
Wish you were here
Dear one at home.
I just flew in from rome,
Paris is a postcard all decked out in colour chrome
And so i climbed the eiffel tower
And prayed at notre dame
But i just can't find the romance
And i wonder why i came
Wish you were here
On the champs elysees lovers walk hand in hand
Wish you were here
They take one look at me and seem to understand
This city of light is a lovely site, the first bright star i see tonight
Wish you were here
Now i write this from the plane
Drinking cheap champagne
And wondering why two people got so far apart
Wish you were here, here in london where the rain the pouring down
Wish you were here
On this airplane headed back to new york town
I'll never leave you alone again. i'm coming home but until then
Wish you were here
I wish you were here
Wish you were here.
song performed by by John Denver
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Cafe Prague.
Cream coloured coffee
And hot buttered toast
August sunshine
A packet of cigarettes
Talks on love and life
Friends and strangers all together
Days of summer
Seated on outside chairs
Tears and laughter
Mixed in the air
Of the perfect day just us and them
Cafe pavements
The world at view
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Used coffee cups
And ashtrays too
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Trendy young girls
And the wannabe author
Auster, Adams and Mr. Salinger
Days of dreaming
The perfect film
In view for all to see
Hello, hello
So good to see you
Was it twelve?
Or maybe it was two
I’ll sit and wait
And think of you
Cafe pavements
For me and you
Pairs, Rome and cafe Prague
Dirty spoons and knives
And glasses too
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Teacups and Earl grey
And ice cream sundaes
Black and white life
In full technicolour
Light my cigarette
And I’ll listen all day
Sunshine days
Storm clouds - away
The table over there
Just a smiling man
For today - all alone
Waiting his time
Cafe pavements
The world today
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Beautiful Ladies
And business gents
Paris, Rome and Cafe Prague
Student cameras
And picture painting
Hollywood lifestyle
In the common street
Brando, Dean and Al Pacino
Next to you and me
See you later
Maybe tomorrow
Give me a ring
And we’ll make a date
I’ll sit and think
And wait for you
Cafe pavements
For meetings and lunch
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
Perfect tables
And used up chairs
Paris, Rome and cafe Prague
poem by Patrick Sant
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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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Sophisticated Lady (She's A Different Lady)
Written by Chuck Jackson, Marvin Yancy and Natalie Cole
Sophisticated lady, sophisticated lady
She's a different lady with a different style
She stands tall and steady like the Eiffel Tower
She is hip to politics but loves her jazz
She's got lots of rhythm she's got lots of class
Everybody knows how she got her name, yeah
Oh, ha, she wears knee length dresses with her high heel steppers
She's not no back stabber but she's sure a pleaser
She talks quiet and gentle, she acts very cool
She sticks close to her lover, she obey God's rules, woh
(Sophisticated lady) Sophisticated lady, yeah
(Sophisticated lady) Oh
(Sophisticated lady) That's her name, that's her name
(Sophisticated lady) Woh, woh
Everybody knows how she got her name
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah----
Woh--, oh, oh, oh, oh
She's the kind of person that you'd like to meet
'Cause she's always smiling and she's always neat
She can start a fire in the coldest man
She's a hip slick sister known throughout the land, oh
(Sophisticated lady) That's her name
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) yeah
Oh, well, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, hoo, that's her name
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) lady, lady
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) oh
Sophisticated lady, (sophisticated lady) ah
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady)
Ooh, ooh (sophisticated lady)
Repeat (Sophisticated lady
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paris with Her
What would it be like to go to Paris
on a whim with a woman
who is as mystical and magical
as the city of Love
What would it be like to sit at a Café
drinking our wine eating our cheese on
Avenue des Champs-Elysées but seeing only her
What would it be like to hold her hand
strolling over Pont Neuf to the Eiffel Tower
her hair swirling in the wind, d'issay Miyake
clouding my mind
What would it be like to hide in a corner
of Notre Dame Cathedral
and kiss her passionately her eyes holding mine
what would it be like to make love under a Paris moon
on the green grass of Champ de Mars with the woman I love
It would be Heaven.
poem by Barry Renee
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A Trip to Paris
A Trip to Paris
To enjoy a day Paris
Must be like an eternity in the clouds
One day I hope to my girl there, my little heirs
Go to the Tower, just shout “I love Paris” aloud
Although this maybe my first time here
I feel like I’m home, like I know this country
I know there are some dark places and alleys but I have yet to support fear
This is such a beautiful place, I’m glad it accepts me
As the sun goes down the night skies fill with promise
The stars are no help as the rays from their brightness illuminates the eyes of the river ways
Everything about this land seems too good to be true, she’s just so honest
Set up the way she wants to be makes me so happy I can’t see myself leaving this place.
A Tribute to Paris
poem by Boonk Jackson
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Crescent Moon Over Over The Eiffel Tower
First I think of Jesus, or not actually Jesus,
but the vapour trail from a jet, which makes
a line across the hard sky parallel with the top
of my window, which makes me think of Apollinaire
who said in a poem that Jesus is the holder
of the world high altitude record, a truly modern
aviator, and that’s how I think of Jesus,
being in Paris and all, the thing with Apollinaire.
But I’m looking at the line the vapour trail makes,
which way up in the sky would form a perfect T
with the tip of the Eiffel Tower (the tip of the
Tour Eiffel sounds better in a poem) if the Tour Eiffel
were a fair whack higher. You know what I mean:
blue symmetries of summer. And then I notice,
and here’s what the poem’s about, when my eyes
are making the imaginary T, just above the point
where my imaginary much higher Tour Eiffel
would meet the vapour trail, a crescent moon.
A crescent moon so thin and faint it’s almost not there
in the hot white Paris sky. But it is there,
and it’s above the Eiffel Tower, pardon,
la Tour Eiffel, and it’s above the vapour trail
that Jesus in a jet has made. What do I learn
from this experience? Well, in two weeks’ time,
if the weather holds, and it should, there’ll be
a fat full moon over Paris, and I’m up the hill
in Montmartre, with a view to fucking die for.
I can see three quarters of the sky, so I’m sure
that around two weeks from now, one way
or another, I’ll be seeing that fat full moon.
And this is a thought that is not at all unpleasant.
poem by Luke Davies
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French Teacher
Being in Paris for over
Thirty years, he taught
French to younsters
At sixty five, reminscing
The Eiffel tower, the squares
Of Paris, the promenades
The painters, especially
The beuties, with a smack
Of his old lips, mentioning
Them quite often,
But not mentioning
The life of love he led,
He lived ina old fort like house
Looking after his
Wife and shy daughter,
With thought of france
Where he lived so long,
For company of his oldage.
poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
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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
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I dreamt that I woke up in France today
I dreamt that I woke up
in France today
and that every word
that I spoke in Afrikaans, English,
Dutch or the little German
that I knew
fell incomprehensible on unenquiring ears
just as if I wasn’t there at all
and the people were living
as if only the French
were welcome in France
I walked through the streets
at the Latin Quarter
and It was the country of liberty
and in the street foreign kids
erected barriers
and were burning cars
and wrecking shops
and attacked the passers by
and there were police everywhere.
The city of Paris was beautiful
and people where smiling
and it was very romantic,
but I wasn’t a part
of the city and the world
around me
and drifted in and out of it
as dreams go.
I said a prayer
at the Notre Dame cathedral
and looked in awe at the flying buttresses
and rose windows
and heard the Seine flow past.
I walked along the pont des artes
across the river Seine
and in the background
the lights on the Ilse de la citè
burnt bright and reflected
on the dark waters of the Seine.
Bright lights flared
from the Arc de Triomphe
and the Eiffel tower was all lit up
where it was like
A upside down
V-sign against the sky
and suddenly I felt free
from all the things
that bounded me.
poem by Gert Strydom
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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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Angeliou
Angeliou oh angeliou
Oh oh angeliou angeliou
Oh angeliou oh angeliou oh my angeliou
In the month of may
In the month of may
In the city of paris
In the month of may
In the month of may
In the city of paris
And I heard the bells ringing, and I heard the bells ringing
In the month of may
In the city of paris and I called out your name
In the month of may
In the city of paris
In the month of may
In the city of paris
Oh oh angeliou oh angeliou oh oh angeliou oh my angeliou
Walkin on a city street who would think you could ever be touched
By a total stranger, not me
But when you came up to me that day and I listened to your story
It reminded me so much of myself
It wasnt what you said but the way it felt to me
About a search and a journey just like mine
Will you be my baby
Will you be my baby now
Will you be my baby
Will you be my baby now
Angeliou oh angeliou
Angeliou oh angeliou
Yes I will yes I will yes I will
After she told all these things to me I said I got a story too
It goes something like this
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sophisticated Lady
Written by chuck jackson, marvin yancy and natalie cole
Sophisticated lady, sophisticated lady
Shes a different lady with a different style
She stands tall and steady like the eiffel tower
She is hip to politics but loves her jazz
Shes got lots of rhythm shes got lots of class
Everybody knows how she got her name, yeah
Oh, ha, she wears knee length dresses with her high heel steppers
Shes not no back stabber but shes sure a pleaser
She talks quiet and gentle, she acts very cool
She sticks close to her lover, she obey gods rules, woh
(sophisticated lady) sophisticated lady, yeah
(sophisticated lady) oh
(sophisticated lady) thats her name, thats her name
(sophisticated lady) woh, woh
Everybody knows how she got her name
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah----
Woh--, oh, oh, oh, oh
Shes the kind of person that youd like to meet
cause shes always smiling and shes always neat
She can start a fire in the coldest man
Shes a hip slick sister known throughout the land, oh
(sophisticated lady) thats her name
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) yeah
Oh, well, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, hoo, thats her name
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) lady, lady
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady) oh
Sophisticated lady, (sophisticated lady) ah
Sophisticated lady (sophisticated lady)
Ooh, ooh (sophisticated lady)
Repeat (sophisticated lady)
song performed by by Natalie Cole
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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