Paris Poems | Examples of Paris Poetry

What beauty is (to the geometrist), is the shape of the Golden Ratio! Beauty is courage, the defiant fist of a protector fear can't overthrow; ...Read the rest...

Peter (my bf) and I were in Paris, about three weeks ago (I was on Spring break, he was on vacation from work). ‘Headstart for Happiness,’ by ‘the Style Council,’ was playing low somewhere. “This is the...Read the rest...

Peter had to fly, was that just last night? I have attachment issues. I hate saying goodbye - it always makes me cry an embarrassing tear or two. Holidays go so fast relativity’s been proven at last! Fourteen days of leisure of sordid intertwined...Read the rest...

“22½ euros for a Martini,” Peter remarked, when he first scanned the menu. “It’s not like we aren’t going to get them,” I said, “we’re not going to cheap our way to abstinence." The waiter came...Read the rest...

The Eiffel Tower stabbed at a midnight as blue as an old Muddy Waters track. From a distance, its lace-iron skeleton looked like a slick and oily spider-web crowned with a glittering neon diamond. (My Grandmère's home is across the...Read the rest...

(A bit of fun for Thomas W. Case - I think he lives in Iowa) Hawkeye pride burns bright in Iowa City, the place where Tennessee Williams learned to curse. Iowa City hosts the 4th of July, Iowa...Read the rest...

63 The noises of Paris There comes an age and wisdom, When it is more interesting To listen to Shostakovich’s symphony number five, Than to be interested in the noises of...Read the rest...

She haunted me as a child, Staring quietly from her watercolor world. Her strange presence called me. Powder-white skin and rouge cheeks, Pencil-thin brow over Dark-rimmed eyes Shedding a single tear, A pale rose between slender fingers, Seeking its...Read the rest...

Extinguish the candles of another year, thirty three, By le Bateau-Lavoir, copped in contemplation, Of abstraction at le Musée de l'Orangerie, Joan Mitchell to Monet, why male comparison? No, that sentiment doesn't sit at all right with me. You led...Read the rest...

stop sitting in that Paris street you know I hate it when you crash through all the flags that people wear and all the chords are played by shoes in the music of the crowds with melodies of rushing...Read the rest...

I imagine your thoughts to trail off in French, Politely demanding the finest pâté, Then taking repose on a Tuileries bench. An elegant lady dressed in all black, Sipping Merlot on l’Île Saint-Louis, Your citrine gaze ever poised to attack. You...Read the rest...

It was the summer of 2014, I was just about to turn 13, spending June of summer vacation with my Grandmère, in Paris. Tonight, we’re at a fundraising benefit for African relief (it’s always *something*)....Read the rest...

we stood were well you pushed I fell they came I hid she ran I did they chased I stopped she turned I dropped they shot I died she fled I sighed they went her too I died for you .. I died .. for you you used me too...Read the rest...

The Last Organ Grinder ...Read the rest...

The bakery was closed family only an echo of long ago no mementos of love loneliness built into my spinal chord musical notes exposing a weeping child within an old man a broken guitar sits on the floor The grave yard across the street beckons the...Read the rest...