HPIM1137.JPGparis | september | 2004, 2005, 2006

sadi ranson-polizzotti | chants & poems
poems written in Paris, 2004, 2005
& poems that relate back to Paris |

You can also check Chants & Poems Archive
to select poems by title. Note, that some
of these poems have been published
in various journals and publications.

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please visit tant mieux paris

Many new poems are in France, More - so do check there. Those poems are more recent, and as ever, thanks for visiting.

sadi ranson-polizzotti, 2007


the great wrap up

It is absurd, I am afraid you do not love me. You have taken me to Paris , the delightful Autumn all about us and I am afraid you do not love me. Paris is Autumnal the chestnuts falling easily, Le Jardin coats our shoes with white dust, you have taken me to Paris . The Metro is familiar, the smell remains unchanged, we board a train, our

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the illness

You cannot recover: I cover you with horse-hair blankets

five thick: the peach, the blue, the yellow, more.

They are not enough.

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the lies that lie

I remember meeting, the stolen afternoons when we,

when you, when I, told our spouses some story or other

some effort to get out of the house – stories about ‘space’

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the moon, take one

The ring is perfect. A moonstone.

You do not see it – not yet anyway.

It is my opposite, my alter.

I am the light to her dark.

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the moon, take two

Oh Shit, You would defend the moon: my arch rival.

Oh how she wishes! In my shine she is eclipsed as sometimes

I may be too, yet never am I cancelled out. Always I return,

midday unexpected.

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The Old Ghosts

All day you have me walking,

visiting old ghosts, old haunts,

mine, yours. They inhabit the Isle de la Cité.

Isle St. Louis . Mine have some meaning, but it is

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vision on return

In it, I am bleached Bright with happiness My yolk-like hair flat Against the European cream

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what is left, what is felt - paris.fr.

The milk is back. As in Paris,
I am filling again with something
that must be sweet, good.
I find it as I drive, the highway
blurring, the speedometer
pricking ninety-five, the
wetness there. This time, you are
gone. I cannot speak or write

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zazen in the metro

I went to Paris to find a thing I thought lost. Lost I was, I did not know my way around Paris, so I sought a thing, a map of the metro that would help me find my bearings. Bearings abound I saw my way around and took to the Metro of Paris. The Metro was fast and I learned it at last and Paris was less of a mystery. The mystery would be where to find a cup of tea, had a spell cast on me and I rode the metro to find my bearings. I sought out my bearings I sought out the tea and rode the whizzing metro to luxemborg.

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