Guest poem sent in by ochemma
(Poem #1142) In Paris with You
Dont talk to me of love. Ive had an earful And I get tearful when Ive downed a drink or two. Im one of your talking wounded. Im a hostage. Im maroonded. But Im in Paris with you. Yes, Im angry at the way Ive been bamboozled And resentful at the mess that Ive been through. I admit Im on the rebound And I dont care where are we bound. Im in Paris with you. Do you mind if we do not go to the Louvre, If we say sod off to sodding Notre Dame If we skip the champs Elysees And remain here in this sleazy Old hotel room Doing this or that To what and whom Learning who you are, Learning what I am. Dont talk to me of love. Lets talk of Paris, The little bit of Paris in our view. Theres that crack across the ceiling And the hotel walls are peeling And Im in Paris with you. Dont talk to me of love. Lets talk of Paris. Im in Paris with the slightest thing you do. Im in Paris with your eyes, your mouth, Im in Paris with ..all points south. Am I embarrassing you? Im in Paris with you.
(1993) This is one of my recent discoveries by James Fenton, currently holding the Auden chair at Oxford. A poem about Love which rejects sentimentality and yet, in its simplicity, manages to convey it all the more. I particularly love the last verse which substitutes Paris for love whilst loving love all the while. Fentons gentle and light hearted touch sings a sensual and loving poem. Marina Furniss-Roe Links: Here's a biography of Fenton: http://www.bedfordstmartins.com/litlinks/poetry/fenton.htm An excerpt from his book 'Slave to the Rhythm', on the uses of rhyme: [broken link] http://books.guardian.co.uk/fentonserial/story/0,12098,819318,00.html