Posted: November 20, 2010 in POEM OF CITIES


Evening in Paris
  – Joe Howell

The sun, a glass marble shines on innocense.
I lie in short grass, looking into the future.

The moon- a shiny biscut covers the clouds.
And midnight bleeds into childhood dreams..

The watch hands turn into a foreign country.
The war passed, I standown in rags.

Looking thru the back glass of a Rambler Station Wagon.
Childhood dreams escape as the dust.
I smell Evening in Paris.

The wrinkles in skin and shirt pressed by time.
I lie in short grass, looking into the past. 

Autumn Passed Through Paris
   – Endre Ady 

Autumn sliped into Paris yesterday,
came silently down Boulevard St Michel,
In sultry heat, past boughs sullen and still,
and met me on its way.

As I walked on to where the Seine flows by,
little twig songs burned softly in my heart,
smoky, odd, sombre, purple songs. I thought
they sighed that I shall die.

Autumn drew abreast and whispered to me,
Boulevard St Michel that moment shivered.
Rustling, the dusty, playful leaves quivered,
whirled forth along the way.

One moment: summer took no heed: whereon,
laughing, autumn sped away from Paris.
That it was here, I alone bear witness,
under the trees that moan. 

Moonlight and Paris 
– Mark Riesenberger  

I believe in love… even though my believing
Has been more a lonely faith than fact.
But I’ll always have that one night, in Paris…
Wine, bread and cheese from a patisserie
And I walked to where the Seine had settled,
Not moving, into the still and dusky light,
Until that too slowly dissolved into dark.

And then she rose, shy and untouchable,
From the water, shaking her shimmering
Hair that was loosed in droplets of stars,
Her pale perfect body demure and desirable,
The way you think of a goddess awakening.
She was sensual in a way I had never known,
Seducing me as though I was once a god. 


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