Paris of course is a city inspiring to so many and to me perhaps because i feel most at home there. I remember going there as a child with my grandparents, running up the beach with my grandparents and asking for "pain" - the only word i knew in French then, and running beaming back with a loaf back down to the beach.
I return now with new memories, and each year on this site, i put new poems, all written in France, all dated, with time and place - and i hope, all accessible to you. My job here, is to give you a taste of the life i have had, and a taste of the life i regain when i return to Europe each year. How funny then that just recently, a woman said to me, "You are American." I double checked my passport when i got home; it still said EC. Nothing wrong with either. Just a reality check. - sadi ranson-polizzotti, autumn, 2006
photo: rue St. Lazare, Trinite - Paris, France
Tuesday, October 24, 2006 at 09:56AM Better to know what you want, I am told.
So it is we find the elephant in the room.
We tread so gently – those tusks too sharp.
You tell me, you can hardly see –
view obscured and any language, it is lost
Wednesday, October 18, 2006 at 07:02PM 09.15.06, Paris , Montparnasse
The black balcony railing was only a foot from the window.
This of course didn’t stop him from sitting dangerously near the ledge,
the Paris cars fuming dangerously far below,
Wednesday, October 18, 2006 at 06:57PM 09.18.06., Paris . rue St. Lazare, Trinite, Paris. France
You have no opinion of either.
The soft tap-shoes or the gentle ballet-slippers with sweet ribbons that tie about the ankles.
Either / Or. Some blankness, lack of feeling or thought. Care.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006 at 06:53PM 09.21.06, Monparnasse, Paris, France
In the Now – it is you whom I love.
You make this possible, impossible.
Push the limit. Test the bounds of the bond.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006 at 06:51PM 09.21.06. Paris. Monparnasse. France
Affirmation here, is found in glances – a moment, a minute –
sometimes longer.
Here I sit in a corner café, a young man, late 20s
Wednesday, October 18, 2006 at 06:48PM 09.19.06. A10, France – toward Pressigny
Driving toward there from here
We listen to this song, Je Reviens
A song about an affair, you say –
Wednesday, October 18, 2006 at 06:47PM 09.21.06. - Pressigny. Fr.
I am not greedy. One will do.
These stone walled farm houses, white-washed and hushed,
a small garden, lavender, passionflower whose leafy-hands stretch
Wednesday, October 18, 2006 at 06:46PM 09.20.06. Pressigny
I see it first in the back garden, quiet,
hidden amidst a dance of ballerina flowers, en pointe and ready,
white, blue, fragrant lavender. I know this dance well.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006 at 06:43PM 09.20.06, Pressigny , France
It does not matter that it is late or that I am cold
Nor does it matter that I am here in Southern France ,
a poet, surrounded by beauty yet unable to find the words.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006 at 06:42PM 09.20.06., Pressigny , France
If you knew... but then, you do.
Perhaps this then, the problem.
No second guessing. So I continue.
It is you. Now, it is you.
Friday, October 13, 2006 at 03:46PM There is no contradiction here. You will search, babe, at any cost -
St. Maure , Southern France – just Another Side of Bob Dylan
We pass, up, down lit country hills under the red sky,
only now just appearing – no hard rain, only sun…
Friday, October 13, 2006 at 03:45PM It’s all a question of freezing time.
This, and in black-and-white – rewrite: shades of grey.
Life, of course, cannot be frozen.
Appears deceptively in stokes of brilliant color.
Friday, October 13, 2006 at 03:44PM It begins in disagreement – not cantankerous, never that.
More a lively parting of the ways – this is how it starts.
The origin of fiest between two.
The blood begins to run rich, hot with possibility,
Friday, October 13, 2006 at 03:43PM It’s at the end of Pont Neuf.
Right there.
Step off the curb and you can see the widow –
colored stones reflecting back the Paris light – this and your reflection;
Friday, October 13, 2006 at 03:35PM 09/16/06 – Trinite, Langlois, Paris, Fr.
I am freckled, speckled, spackled.
A gingersnap blonde thing.
Patina-eyes like marbles – do
Friday, October 13, 2006 at 03:34PM 09/17/06 – Trinite, Langlois, Paris. Fr
The rain slips in through the window while below,
cars such the pavement speeding fast to somewhere.
Friday, October 13, 2006 at 03:33PM It’s only recently that I allow myself to think of it at all.
Long I’ve played the role of one whose blood runs thin –
Simple straight line: Protestant, clear as gin when, in actuality…
Tuesday, July 4, 2006 at 02:06PM It seems to far away, yet not.
I know that soon our boots will be chalked with the marbled dust of le Jardin.
That we will look from our hotel over the patina
of Paris rooftops, the ruling grey skies of Europe .
Tuesday, July 4, 2006 at 02:05PM I recall the last time there.
How the sun was just setting
and I could see it so beautiful,
night’s curtain closing, a scrim
Wednesday, February 1, 2006 at 02:05PM Serious, yes, head-tipped,
pouted lips sealed, parted slightly
ripe for young kisses, near misses.
All those girls in silks with their
long stick-like legs, how easily
then they fall to you - American