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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Related quotes
God's Yield
In the field
Of God's Yield
You're the One that stood out!
You're not the prettiest
The tallest or the slenderest
Or the most graceful,
But my heart chose you
The way your mirror chose me
I never cared for my dull reflection
For with life's shades I've been darkened
But your light chose me
In this instant of neutrality
Made all the difference in you and me
There is no effort here
Just pure flow!
Love is truly blind
We know not why we love
But when our eyes locked
It's bliss beyond measure
You're the Sun of my moon
I am the Moon of your sun
You're the romance of my love
I am the love of your romance
I cannot exist without your light
My mirror would be a very desolate place
You're my Paris, my Champs-Élysées, my Tour Eiffel
You are the sparkle in my eyes
That lights up my Paris, my Champs-Élysées, and my Tour Eiffel
Let love flow freely
My river opens in the arms of your ocean
The more my Poem will glow
Vive L'amour!
poem by leaking Pen
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Alec Eiffel
Pioneer of aerodynamics
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
They thought he was real smart alec
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
He thought big they called it a phallic
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
They didnt know he was panoramic
Little eiffel stands in the archway
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
Keeping low doesnt make no sense
Sometimes people can be oh so dense
They didnt want it but he built it anyway
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
Little eiffel stands in the archway
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
Keeping low dont make sense
Keeping low doesnt make no-sense
(little eiffel, little eiffel)
Little eiffel stands in the archway
Oh alexander I see you beneath
The archway of aerodynamics.
song performed by by Pixies
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paris I adorent
France, her mystery
Her history
Around each corner
A story unfolds
The quiteness of La Seine
The elaborateness of Le Tour Eiffel
Paris I adorent
As it is you I explore
We have developed rapport
En Paris ces't ma couer
En Paris ces't ma maison
One day we will meet again
One day we will meet again
Peter LeBuhn
poem by Peter LeBuhn
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Being the most striking manifestation of the art of metal structures by which our engineers have shown in Europe, the Eiffel Tower is one of the most striking of our modern national genius.
quote by Gustave Eiffel
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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It seems to me that it had no other rationale than to show that we are not simply the country of entertainers, but also that of engineers and builders called from across the world to build bridges, viaducts, stations and major monuments of modern industry, the Eiffel Tower deserves to be treated with consideration.
quote by Gustave Eiffel
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Les Fleurs des Mots: Le Genre de Place
Femmes sont Seine,
Universite,
Paris, Place,
Cathedral,
Avenue et Rue;
Aussi Tour Eiffel.
Hommes sont Centre,
Restaurant,
Musee, Metro et Hotel.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Do you see my face that smiles for we...
Come more close my dear
do you hear my voice
that cries like a broken tree?
Do you see my face that smiles for we...
I want to built an Eiffel poem
in your heart
you don't have to wait,
nor to call a draft
...... to glaze your eyes or
to fly over the sky
everything you need
i will pass throw the empty greed
don't be shy, shy...
You make me hero?
I need not.
It is just an Eiffel poem
believe me my dear
I am rich in my heart
You do not need to thank me
‘cause we both are
The children of the god....
Vasil Marku 2012
poem by Vasil Marku
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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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Monuments
Monuments
They have gone now not a trace left but hazy memories.
Leaves are getting yellow there is no denying fall is here.
I’m the sole survivor standing on a plateau of nothingness
where dust of wasted years, blows in the wind. But it was
the wasted years that brought you here, a voice whispers.
I shall not now climb the Eiffel tower from the outside in
honour of the army of welders; whom are all but forgotten.
The name Eiffel lives on, but the man himself lost his crown
when trying to construct the Panama Canal. This long hall
I must walk so many doors on each side, I will not enter any
of them to see what’s inside, my curiosity is gone I need not
know. My object is to reach the end of the corridor where
I see shadows, perhaps the great man Eiffel is there, if not
I hope they are, the welders of the monument made of Iron.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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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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You show up in Paris, and on the drive from the airport to the hotel you're like, 'This is so cool! I want to see something! I want to go to the Eiffel Tower!' And then you leave the next morning. You think, Oh, I didn't get to do anything. I tell people: I've been just about everywhere, but I've seen nothing.
quote by Taylor Lautner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tatooed Lovers
Hey Babe
How can we forget?
Those paradise days
In the city of Paris!
Seine river cruising
Eiffel tower dinner
Shows after shows!
Le Moulin Rouge
Le Crazy Horse
Le Crazy Girls
Le Femme
Le Lido de Paris
Le Paradis Latin
The great Parisian shows!
We were happy
L'Open Hope –on
Hop-off Tour
The Louvre Museum
Mona Lisa
The 'Arc de Triomphe'
Avenue des Champs-Elysées
Place de la Concorde
Sacre Coeur Basilica
Notre Dame Cathedral
Centre Georges Pompidou!
Going to La Defense
Versailles
Having Champagne
At Champagne
Hi Babe
How can we forget Paris?
The tattoo lovers we knew
They lived and danced
Above the studio
Where we lived! .....
poem by Kp. Shashidharan
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White Republican Male Jesus?
White Republican Male Jesus?
what about...
black Jesus, brown Jesus,
Asian Jesus, atheist Jesus,
female Jesus, poor Jesus,
jobless Jesus, prison Jesus,
homeless Jesus, illegal immigrant Jesus?
dog Jesus, cat Jesus,
baby in a dumpster Jesus,
addict Jesus, old Jesus?
gay Jesus, union Jesus,
hungry Jesus, foreign Jesus?
bumming a cup of coffee Jesus?
brother Jesus, sister Jesus?
just bombed Jesus,
food stamp Jesus?
how many bodies? how many crosses?
you tell me!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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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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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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France is for Lovers
It's Paris in the Springtime
as the fluers de lis flower
Singing hymns to the fresh new floral scents.
Paintings hang in the monuments
to great men and their moments
showing oils and acrylics trapping hymns.
And that architectural marvel that is called the Eiffel Tower
towers over sights and smells and sounds of spring.
It is here that you lay your head to rest now.
It is here that you bring other heads to rest.
It is in Paris in the Springtime that is for lovers.
And if I could afford the plane ticket over
you would have to see me regardless
of all the child support you try to make me pay.
poem by John W. McEwers
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Nothing But the Blood
What can wash away my sin?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
What can make me whole again?
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
For my pardon this I see -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
For my cleansing, this my plea -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
Nothing can for sin atone -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
Naught of good that I have done -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
This is all my hope and peace -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus;
This is all my righteousness -
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
CHORUS
Oh! precious is the flow
That makes me white as snow;
No other fount I know,
Nothing but the blood of Jesus.
poem by Robert Wadsworth Lowry
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La Seine
There once was a fellow named Harris,
a comedian whose wife was called Clarice.
They performed on a stage
with old Rolf in a cage
and she took him (so clever) to Paris.
On the top of the Eiffel Tower
when the clock struck the twenty-third hour,
he was left in the rain
looking down on the Seine
but he really had needed the shower.
poem by Herbert Nehrlich
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A Moon Mystery!
Auspicious or not, crescent Moon is always precious to poets;
Waxing and waning Moons have different effects of superstition;
Crescent Moons good or bad are ever poets’ great inspiration!
Crescent Moon is a basket for carrying flowers of Stars in it;
Crescent Moon is the boat that travels on the ocean of Sky;
Crescent Moon is a fine jewel decorating Lord Siva’s tresses!
Waxing crescent Moon with a Star is very auspicious to Islamites;
Thus silent beauty in the Western Sky encourages worn out souls;
But the waning crescent Moon in the Eastern Sky was a fun on tour!
What a beautiful sight the waning crescent Moon in the Eastern Sky!
On a sudden bus travel in plains I happened to see this in a cold night
Making me wonder as I used to wonder at the Western crescent Moon!
Moon is still a mystery though many rockets are sent there for probes
As the dark side of the Moon is still a dark matter for millions of years!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Crimes Of Paris
I thought it was you and your optimists view of the clock
And how its always another day
Just after twelve oclocks struck
You said now I only want you so I dont have to promise
But tiny children in grown-up clothes whispered all the crimes of paris
Chorus: youre not the girl next-door or a girl from france
Or the cigarette-girl in the sizzle hot-pants
All the words of love seem cruel and crass
When youre tough and transparent as armoured glass
Youre everywhere girl in an everyday mess
Wholl pay for the crimes of paris
I heard that you fell for the hell or to hammersmith blues
In the tiny torn up pieces of his mind hes irresistible too
Now its hard to say now if hes only stupid or smart
When he crawled through the door
And poured out more of his creeping-jesus heart
Chorus
And its all here and now
She hit him with that paper-weight eiffel tower
And I tried to hold on to you but I dont know how
And I find it hard to swallow good advice
Like going down three times to only come up twice
Shes so convenient, hes always stiff as hair-lacquer
Its hard to discover now hes in love with her
It was her way of getting her own back
You never did anything she couldnt do on her own
Youre as good as your word and thats no good to her
Youd better leave that kitten alone
Chorus
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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