Poesie De Paris
Poesie de Paris
Current racing, yet the boat holds still;
moored fast beside the edges of the Seine.
Floating debris passes by, broken free
from rubbish dumped on the banks carelessly.
The ship’s bilge, rank! Disgorged
adds to the brown disturbed river.
Mistletoe Pom Poms hang unhindered
in the trees: stripped bare by winter solitude
now begins signs of being pushed aside-
to bear the inevitable advent of spring,
which will transform the rubbish
and the murky anguished water
to reveal, the reflection of the green
bedecked trees, garlanded, lining the river-
becoming a romantic dream lover once again
alive on the banks of the Seine.
The noisy strength of the engine’s wake up call,
cruising to Conflans in the misty morn, cold,
as we go, we can see the snow
resting on a distant field.
The boat joins the flow of the river
and a lone Magpie seeking the jewels of the night,
Is left behind
as we go to find the Versailles Château.
There, symmetrical flowerless boxed gardens-
apt for a cold day.
The palace in its gaudy grandeur
lures and welcomes us to view its splendour
and go away,
knowing, ’every dog has its day’.
All the Gods depicted in the ceilings- play
in heavenly grace,
While Napoleonic triumphs
(sent many to the grave)
show the apparent radiant beauty of Josephine,
when she was crowned his queen.
Ah! Charles-De- Gaulle- Etoile-
your mistresses too,
how can we view Paris tonight as you do?
In the dark The Tour Eiffel (a ‘mechano’ dream)
glistens and sparkles, feet astride,
all point towards the triumphant arc.
Where all the world’s widest roads,
go away from there, straight to the
Lights of the Night.
Straight to the paradise of fashion shops- hence,
The cat-walk fate holds the world in great suspense.
The motor car in shop windows sparkling clean;
Ferrari specials and the Grand Prix deluxe, pristine
models, till they meet the eight lane unmarked roads,
where a battle of a civil kind begins to devastate.
Straight to the Opera and the dance
where by chance, you may afford a seat.
The perfume and wine draws us near,
to savour the delights, or fear of the French cuisine.
And the fantastic fanfare of Paris by night.
Her mysteries, still, demurely garbed in mighty,
Military monuments, enhanced,
tell tales of history past,
saying give us the glory, first and last, we fought and won,
Vive La France!
By Kathleen Bartholomew (Feb 2005)
poem by Kathleen Bartholomew
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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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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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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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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A Myth
A FLOATING, a floating
Across the sleeping sea,
All night I heard a singing bird
Upon the topmast tree.
“Oh, came you from the isles of Greece
Or from the banks of Seine;
Or off some tree in forests free,
Which fringe the western main?”
“I came not off the old world
Nor yet from off the new—
But I am one of the birds of God
Which sing the whole night through.”
“Oh, sing and wake the dawning—
Oh, whistle for the wind;
The night is long, the current strong,
My boat it lags behind.”
“The current sweeps the old world,
The current sweeps the new;
The wind will blow, the dawn will glow,
Ere thou hast sail’d them through.”
poem by Charles Kingsley
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The Night Bird: A Myth
A floating, a floating
Across the sleeping sea,
All night I heard a singing bird
Upon the topmost tree.
'Oh came you off the isles of Greece,
Or off the banks of Seine;
Or off some tree in forests free,
Which fringe the western main?'
'I came not off the old world
Nor yet from off the new-
But I am one of the birds of God
Which sing the whole night through.'
'Oh sing, and wake the dawning-
Oh whistle for the wind;
The night is long, the current strong,
My boat it lags behind.'
'The current sweeps the old world,
The current sweeps the new;
The wind will blow, the dawn will glow
Ere thou hast sailed them through.'
Eversley, 1848.
poem by Charles Kingsley
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A Paper Boat On A Murky River
on your hand is a paper boat
you made last night
on a rainy day like this
you put on a gray rain coat
the river rises
perfect for your scheme
you put the boat gently
on the brown water
white paper boat
carried by this murkiness
your hands push
the paper boat leaves
tonight you sleep on
the wooden floor
it is mahogany brown and you
become the paper boat
sailing inside your dream
the floor becomes the big river
your thoughts become the wind
your eyes become two moons
the room is as dark as the night
the dream is so alive like a mother's song.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Wedding Party
(Wedding Party)
Sailing down night Seine
Champagne brut and goose liver
The Eiffel Tower
Dressed in bright coloured charms
Looked like a demi monde
When the barge banked
I gave Seine the bird’s liver
Peed in the river
Studied the sliver of moon
Dreaming of ice cold lager
Paris’s night streets
September mild and at ease
Bars and bistros shut
The worthless slept in doorways
And I thought of Edit Piaf
poem by Jan Oskar Hansen
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Misty River
This morning
Me in this Misty River
All the happiness
I am feeling inside myself
Misty River
The mist is coming
From this Misty River
There are clouds
In the sky
And the mist
Is caused by the condensation
Of the heat mixed in the cold water
Misty River
I am in a fishing boat
That boat is moving slowly in this
Misty river
It is early in the morning
I am eating my breakfast in the fishing boat in the middle of this
Misty River
I hear the birds singing early in the morning
In this Misty River
There must be trees because the sound of the birds is coming from the Branches
Misty River
So peaceful
It looks so different with the mist
No one is around but me
With my fishing boat
And the beautiful sound of the birds
It is so nice
To have a place to come to
Where I can
Hear the sound of the birds
And be left alone
With no one disturbing me
Misty River
This is my special place
And by afternoon
No clouds I will see
The birds are beautiful
Their song is just beautiful like mother nature intended it to be
If nobody else appreciates this Misty River
I do
Misty River
I will die for you
Misty River
I will shed my tears for you
I have been coming here for so long now
Misty River
poem by Aldo Kraas
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I See A Boat On A River
He left on a boat
Just to follow a dream
He had to find.
You can't hold a man
When he follows a dream
That's on his mind.
I see a boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
Boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
I waited for him
Such a very long time,
Don't know what for
'cause i should have known
When he left on the boat
We'll meet no more.
I see a boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
Boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
Boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
Boat on the river.
You're bound for the sea,
If you should find him
Please greet him from me.
There were people who came
And said it's really a shame,
Why did he take off
To follow just a dream.
But i guess they were wrong,
In life you're sailing along
And things don't turn out
As simple as they seem.
Boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
I see a boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to i can't say.
I see a boat on the river.
You're bound for the sea,
If you should find him
Please greet him from me.
Boat on the river,
It's sailing away
Down to
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Agusan marshlands from the lens of Elvi
Crystal clear river not a ripple from your hands
You are inside this boat of art
Sailing on the belly of this peaceful Agusan river
Where the sun and earth meet and become one
In the mirror of their likeness
The dark islands the dark trees
Mirror on the smooth water as you take the pictures
Of this manner of capturing the beauty
Of peace and tranquility
On the background is a native hurling his nets
On a boat his thin child
The river turns to murky brown
The fish swim away in hiding
Disturbed by their hunger
The poverty that grips their bodies
Their souls thirsty for the beauty that they cannot see
Your lens disregarded what should have been more true & real
Overshadowed by your quest to capture
What is not there
I am looking at the background beyond the mirror
On a closer look the native has angry eyes
Red with fury but then the night comes
And your lens was not sensitive enough
The truth was not exposed
Only the man and his boy felt it
In darkness they are the only ones fully seeing
Your boat leaves without saying anything
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Nurturing trees - I won fight
Nurturing trees
I stood straight
Walking for peace
I stood straight.
Perpetually I struggled
Strangely crossed border
I knew nothing
About the creator.
You sing if you like
You dance if you like
Ask me not what I like
I'm not here to show might.
I'm on the bank of the river
And the river is not running
Running with the river
I stood straight.
I stood straight
Zigzag road called me
Voluntarily I touched the feet
And the sea show its might.
Nurturing trees
I won the fight.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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I See A Boat On The River
He left on a boat
Just to follow a dream
He had to find.
You cant hold a man
When he follows a dream
Thats on his mind.
I see a boat on the river,
Its sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to I cant say.
Boat on the river,
Its sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to I cant say.
I waited for him
Such a very long time,
Dont know what for
cause I should have known
When he left on the boat
Well meet no more.
I see a boat on the river,
Its sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to I cant say.
Boat on the river,
Its sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to I cant say.
Boat on the river,
Its sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to I cant say.
Boat on the river.
Youre bound for the sea,
If you should find him
Please greet him from me.
There were people who came
And said its really a shame,
Why did he take off
To follow just a dream.
But I guess they were wrong,
In life youre sailing along
And things dont turn out
As simple as they seem.
Boat on the river,
Its sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to I cant say.
I see a boat on the river,
Its sailing away
Down to the ocean,
Where to I cant say.
I see a boat on the river.
Youre bound for the sea,
If you should find him
Please greet him from me.
Boat on the river,
Its sailing away
Down to
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Straight Ahead
Day by day, dream by dream.
I fight to find the way to go.
Every day opens a different door.
Every dream shadows the one before.
But slowly I can see
The way youve made for me.
Straight ahead, I can see your light.
Straight ahead, through the dark.
Straight ahead, theres no left or right.
Straight ahead, to your heart.
Carry on through the night,
When the road is hard to find.
Lying lights tell me to turn around.
Lying thoughts tell me Im lost not found.
But clearly I can see
Youre waiting there for me.
Straight ahead, I can see your light.
Straight ahead, through the dark.
Straight ahead, theres no left or right.
Straight ahead, to your heart.
Straight ahead, (straight ahead),
Straight ahead, (straight ahead),
Straight ahead, (straight ahead),
Straight ahead, (straight ahead).
Straight ahead (straight ahead), I can see your light.
Straight ahead, through the dark (through the dark).
Straight ahead, theres no left or right.
Straight ahead, to your heart.
Straight ahead....
song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Straight On
Straight on, down a dead end street, down the throat of life's sweet dream
Get swallowed whole by innocence, get eaten by the folks you meet
Straight on like a taser dart, fifty thousand volts of art
Just like a chip inside your head, to tell you when to stop and start
Straight on to the ticking bomb, to big ideas, walk the dog
to myths like our democracy, vote Roland Rat and ditch the lot
Straight on like an open blade, an empty house, a rabbit snare
A window breaking in the night, the words you didn't want to hear,
a moon beam straight into the sun, a bullet from a careless gun
Straight on, with no fashion sense, no goodbyes and no last dance
a marble from a catapult, a quiverful of simple plans
Straight on into life's great wall, right through into life's great fall
Then down the chute and up the drain, recycled into something small
Straight on past the next surprise, seeing stars through starry eyes
and straight into a web of whys to find the lie that satisfies
Straight on like a corner shop, as deadly as a chopping block,
As friendly as a lion's den, a hooded crow, a lonely walk
The rail beneath the bullet train, the fragile sense within a brain
Straight on into history, skidding at you down the street
Tomorrow's just a yesterday we're never quite prepared to meet
Straight on like a butterfly searching for a net of lies
Across the fields of promises where every kind of vulture flies
Straight on through the great taboo; very soon there's nothing new
And all you hoped for hunts you down, to benefit the chosen few
Straight on through the universe, the blood of all our children spent
And riding on the broken wave we never think of what they've lent
They're in the wind and swinging free, as we dance round the gallows tree
Straight on like we're broken glass; we know how to fix the crash
We detonate good will for cash, because we think all things must pass
Straight on to the latest craze to empty us of emptiness
And knock the walls down, welcome in, spectators from the internet
Straight on like we know what's straight, something like the figure eight
We're tumbling dice, we're playing blind, down by the river on a date
Straight on like you've broken through and know exactly what to do
But all at once there's no-one there, for in the end there's only you
A moonbeam straight into the sun, , a bullet from a careless gun
Straight on into you... straight on, .....straight .... on through
Straight on like an ego trip, an iceberg, a sinking ship
Straight on like it's no big deal, just like a performing seal
Straight on like a falling bird, full of lead to show we're tough
Straight on like a harpoon line hooked into the flesh of time
til suddenly you realise it's you that's fighting for your life
Straight on into you... straight on, .....straight .... on through
10 05 12
Aqueous Transmission
Im floating down a river
Oars freed from
Their homes long ago
Lying face up on the floor
Of my vessel
I marvel at the stars
And feel my heart overflow
Further down the river
Two weeks without my lover
Im in this boat alone
Floating down a river
Named emotion
Will I make it back to shore?
Or drift into the unknown
Further down the river
Im building an antenna
Transmissions will be sent
When I am through
Maybe we can meet again
Further down the river
And share what
We both discovered
Then revel in the view
Further down the river
Im floating down a river
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Paris, Paradise And You!
I have to confess more or less,
The truth in all, which Paris has!
I want to give my bless, to the beauty of this place,
On these lines, in painting a part of its face!
I remember, the moments, we were along!
How nice we talked and dreamed a lot,
As we walked, on Rue St. Germain and St. Michel,
Looking at stores, at buildings. Feeling History, everywere?
And when, the Seine, we had passed,
We many of the events, had felt from the past?
Notre Dame, with it splendour, we looked for more and more,
And next to it, the great ornaments, that we all adore!
Lovers, were sitting in every corner, at every bar,
Even if, Jarden de Luxemburg, was not so far!
And YOU, were so amazing in French,
That I bought, all the books, that were in ranch!
Paris, and her Latin Paradise, were in our hand,
As beautiful as was said!
Napoleon, has put it, with much love, in his plans,
So we, can feel its marvelous bends!
We were in a small Paradise! Lutese in the past!
Today, Paris, we can feel it at last!
Long hours, in her atmosphere, near you in close,
Moments of love, holding you, as a red Rose!
poem by Yoseph Lupu
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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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