Long Paris Poems
Long Paris Poems. Below are the most popular long Paris by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Paris poems by poem length and keyword.
My Dream Date Over A Moonflower
She be a Toyota amongst Ferraris
Nondescript, simple, garden variety
A book with a plain cover
Yet with pages that intrigue
Pages that enlighten
And raises my eyebrows
And especially
A book that I can't put down
And want to read over and over
Unlike others
She'd take life slow
Definitely in moderation
Definitely with an eye on spiritual riches
Instead of materialistic gains
I see her heart skipping with joy
On slow walks around the park
Or taking a swim in the ocean
With both our eyes and hearts in harmony
And filled with laughter and warmth
Her eyes would say
"Let's Go Places"
... Some others would want a fairytale
Rome, Paris, London
Perhaps a candle light dinner under the moon
With romantic music in the background
But I would be happy finding that special one
That's swells with taking in a Chinese restaurant
In the slowest part of town
... sharing a moon flower soup
1/25/23
My Dream Date Poetry Contest
Sponsor-Anoucheka Gangabissoon
I was having a nice dream of Paris,
- and walking along winding cobbled streets;
till I came upon a garden terrace,
to sip sweet wine called Sherris ...
a man sat down- though there were lots of seats.
He was so delightful and quite polite,
- we talked and talked for hours of all things;
he asked, would you like to go for a bite,
we fly into the dark night ...
he drove so fast- his car seemed to have wings.
I have to admit by now I was scared,
- the structure was cold and not like a house;
he turned to look right at me and just glared,
his stare left me unprepared ...
his house- was dark and quiet as a mouse.
He was dragging me as I fought with him,
- he was different more demon than man;
oh, my future was looking very grim,
kissing me, he held each limb ...
that is when the brutal assault began.
Remember now how this was just a dream,
- but, I will wake up trembling and weeping;
oh, this has become a real nightmare theme,
one that I find quite extreme ...
I fear, fear- that the demon is creeping.
WOW! What a jam packed week ahead..
I've no time to rest or sleep.
I'm working 8 hours each day
For the bills I must pay..
And multiple adventures to seek.
I've lost 20 pounds and tried on new dresses..
Shopped for shoes at designer label stores.
A new hair do and facelift to
match..
Oh this new look I just love and adore.
Now I must attend an interview at midday..
And that's in London for heaven's sake!
And finish in time to clock back into work..
That makes for a very busy lunch break.
I have to reconcile my bank statement..
And post letters all over the globe.
Show my face as attending a meeting..
And colour coordinate my new wardrobe.
I've done my weeks grocery shopping..
And caught up with friends via chat.
And now I must search high and low..
For the perfect Melbourne Cup hat.
I won a nice lump sum on lotto..
Shopped again in Paris, London and New York.
Took cooking lessons from the best chefs..
And perfected the crackle on my roast pork.
I listened to bands from all over the world..
Created awesome playlists to attune my ears.
Sought medical advice from a psychiatrist..
About my phobia and horrible fears.
You see I've never left my home..
I have everything here I need to get.
It is all at the leisure of my fingertips..
The wonderful power of the internet.
So living in virtual reality is my life..
I've the best friend who gives constant approval.
I don't need the physical world..
If you don't believe me, then just ask Google!
Love is one of life's greatest mysteries
It is the driving force
which shapes man's destiny
It is the very foundation
upon which life itself is built
Love leads
life follows
Love is a way of life
One cannot detach oneself from Love
to make a decision
for Love is life itself
Throughout the ages
the power of Love
has gripped the hearts of men
- mighty men who feared nothing
and made them powerless
to resist its spell
Kingdoms rose and fell
Armies laid others waste
and were laid waste by others
Men died in agony at the command
of a Love-infected leader
Paris and Helen of Troy
in the Trojan war
Samson and Delilah
in the battle with the Philistines
Anthony and Cleopatra
in the Roman Civil War
Love is a potent force
that sometimes makes fools
of Earth's mighty men of valour
And yet this same Love
has been an instrument of good
with which nothing can compare
There are many kinds of love -
a man for his God
a man for his woman
a friend for his friend
a person for his kin
a man for his dog
- these and many more
Though the particular cases differ
the effect of Love is the same
- that feeling which inspires and drives men
to achieve things
they once believed impossible
Many a knight fought great odds
and won for his lady
Many a man leaves his comfortable niche
in society
and goes out to endure
the hardship and pain
of the less fortunate
as he gives of himself unselfishly
to improve their state
because of his love for
his God, duty and ideals
History is filled with leaders
who tried to build
and maintain an empire
with the might of brute force
and failed -
Charlemagne
Alexander The Great
Julius Caesar
Napoleon Bonaparte
Adolph Hitler
And yet
a humble carpenter of Nazareth
who shunned brute force
and violence
built an empire on Love
two thousand years ago
and today it covers
the face of the earth
The Foxy Escort With Her Date
He drank his wine,
savoring it just fine.
His spirits a lift
now he opened his gift
Out jumped a foxy dame
ready for his game
Are you ready for bondage
my little young hostage
Ties and whips
Hot wax and clips
Her young face turned red
not knowing what was ahead
Escort service said it was dinner,
not be a hoar and a sinner
I'm a student at night school
not your playmate and fool
I sorry, I rain on your parade
and can't play your charade
I must go right now
not be herded like a cow
Forget the bells and whistles
then, just soft land on my missile
Sir I'm not that type of gal
that sleeps with any kind of pal
Please take your rocket
and deep pockets ...
To my pent house room
with your flaming fumes
And there's your desire
waiting for your heart's a fire
Huh? Why did you play your game
to light my flame
Huh? Did you whet my appetite
for a long rough night
My dear, you're a good tease
I hope you please
Sir I hope you back the talk
with your walk
It's going to be rough,
let me tell you, and with handcuffs
and Hot wax
To the max
Sir I hope you back the talk
with your walk
I roll my eyes
to you, I despise
Sir take these pills
To give yourself more of a trill
You'll need it, to keep up
with this young pup
Again, Sir please don't disappoint me
with your church key
Or your mama's boy
with toys
Oh baby you're good
This is what the doctor ordered
Babe what's your name
Paris Pachecho
connie pachecho
1/06/17
Huge red-orange sun slowly recede,
Upon the sky seem to bleed;
Whispers of night, calling home,
Such sunset days rarely spent alone.
Look ahead to starry skies;
Not time for early goodbyes.
Without love cannot the heart grow-
A new day comes beyond the rainbow!
Warm Paris breeeze gently blow-
Roses atop the bureau;
Music with a certain ease;
Smooth jazz, if you please.
In darkness of shadows, waits he!
The night is young-for me!
Stars appear, quiet avenue.
Farewell dawn skies of baby blue.
When from misty dreams awakes,
When tomorrow sunrise overtakes,
Come listen music play,
On gold terrace of the sunny day!
Alone, in Paris
The flowers sing
Le jardin du Luxembourg
I look at all the pretty ladies
Which one of them pray tell
Is you
The one who wishes for that sweet caress
The one whose painting hangs on the wall
The one who knows beauty runs deeper
Than a river running to kiss the oceans swell
The grandest of castles with candles dim
There in the damp night would bonds begin
If only you would listen to my whispers deep
Forgiving the scars I have suffered
As in the night I have wept
Napoleon marched forth across great lands
I the knight have lesser demands
If only you, whoever you are
Would take hold of me
As we dance away our eternities
Sur le pont de Avignon
Where the river flows
Like poetry
A quarter rest breathed into my consciousness, a playful pretense of a warm hand gently placed above my heart, calming my sedulous spirit.
—by the Poet
When Paris Was All The Rage
Slow sound of the sax; I lay back
and listen to good-old-day lyrics,
when Paris was all the rage,
and the time of love has past
for the old maid sipping wine
on a sidewalk café; staring,
are we, into the eyes of a painting
rainy and colorful; romanticized
by the simmering sound of the sax;
its notes buoyant on the Seine.
Raindrops of gray, blue and cherry
blossom; a scant smile on red lips,
reminiscing the fading beau and hours;
clicking heels and handsome dress.
Sedate and cocksure lyrics and vocables
regulate my heart, warm my pulse points.
A voice croons, as the ‘phonist’s fingers gyrate,
tingling all the senses; cabernet dimmer switch.
I could choose Paris with its pretty lights dying out by splendid dawn,
even Monte Carlo has an exciting lifestyle that celebrities adore;
and with lots of money to squander on food and champagne,
romance will be missing amid glamor, laughter and a casual frown!
Under the Capri's lovely moon dreaming has its own alluring charm,
we will embrace staring at a sea that gleams and remains very calm;
we'll seek a light shimmering with silver moon rays, the one that we need:
let our night never end, we must consume every desire and not be afraid!
I'll give up anything to spend a night on a balcony adorned with roses,
I'll sing a sweet song to you sweetheart while you glow with happiness;
the warmest breeze will lull us like flowers, our joy will be sublime...
darling, look far and dream with me: dreams can stop rapid time!
Under the Capri's lovely moon, touching will make us feel the joy of unity,
night is beautiful when stars above and lights below blend with perfect harmony;
there's no need to make another promise fearing that it might be broken by us...
I choose this small island that every rich man wishes to own: here love never dies!
Written on 10/26/2015
I awoke hoping for a golden day
I’m easily dazzled, I suppose.
But it’s cool and overcast in Paris.
They’re limiting the sunshine today
because of global warming.
How can global warming bring a thousand harms
if it can’t even cook a turkey?
I love this after-Christmas week.
The crowded activities and Hallmark card events are over
but we still have the sunny moods and infectious vibes
(and no classwork).
My parents flew in last night.
It’s a holiday miracle.
What’s better than running into your mother’s arms
for a, “Mom-MEEEEEEEEEE!” hug.
Joy is a land unto itself, dizzying and potent.
“Your hair,” she said, almost immediately
- confiscating my adulthood with ease.
I‘ve missed her interrogations
and itchy, absorbing interest.
Re-entering childhood can be emotionally wearing
I needed a skin of those shuttle tiles for reentry.
The funny thing is, I get to watch my momma smother
under Grandmère’s beam-fixture gaze.
It seems awfully bright in here - far below the overcast.
.
.
Songs for this:
Wouldn't It Be Nice by The Sirens
Conexão by Amber Mark