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the night whispers the black water fall of ashes
that bloom into the sparrows of sorrow...


the sorrow sparrows are back again
sitting in the tangled woods of twisted trees.

their voices bouncing off love's walls.

the sorrow sparrows are leaning into me.
my sad eyes, dream of you brother.

I lean into the soft lit room
searching for love's quiet hours,
and sunlight flickering through willow trees.

"don't cry, darlin," my wife whispers.
I’ve spent the last couple of weeks in Paris settling in. My every appliance, gadget and charger have been bricked by the weird, French electricity, which bobs when it should weave or something - but you still can’t stick a fork in the sockets.

I’ve also been meandering the right bank* arrondissements for fashions. Students at Université Paris Cité, in the everyday, dress more chicly and elegantly than Yalies or nerdy Harvard ‘barneys.’

I’ve noticed a lot of Asian, selfie-taking tourists in Paris. They come in like waves of invaders as the river-cruises dock. Now, anyone that’s known me for some time, will tell you that my friends and I’ve been taking selfies for decades.

Just not in the middle of the street or with total strangers trying to relax on crisp, cool, early summer morning, while sipping an espresso hangover cure. Was COVID deadly? Well, it certainly killed off the last etiquettes that separated us from the animals.

I’m not anti-tourist - nope -  I just moved back here myself - but these smiling, terribly polite, middle-aged people, think nothing of stopping someone abruptly in the street to ask directions, in a foreign language - as if they’re at Tokyo-Disneyland where the locals are cast members simulating real life.

Would you expect anyone on a busy, work-a-day Manhattan street to happily stop and converse? Not a chance. Women would recoil like snakes and the men would dodge like O.J Simpson or shoulder you to the ground. Still, they call Parisians rude.

I am becoming more serpentine and evasive as I shop, as-if I were a spy in occupied territory. Charles and I form a one-man phalanx, with me following in his wake, like a dolphin trailing along a great ship.

They may need to put up signage, like, “Look (at the locals) but don’t touch,” but in what language?

Let’s wax free-versely… freever-ishly?

It’s a pleasure to walk the banks
of the dark, reflective Saine again.
and watch the warm, evenings for
the first cool stirrings of fall.

Once you’ve visited Paris, it stays with you.
Nothing’s simple here, not the moonlight,
the serene european atmosphere or
the better-than-you sense of right and wrong.

I’m young in a very old city.
I like dessert crawls, and “rock’n’roll clubs.”
Hemingway wrote, that
‘‘You receive in return what you bring to Paris.’


That’s probably not an exact quote.
but I think that’s where they got “What happens in Vegas.”
.
.
Songs for this:
Come to Me by Koop
Leena by Caravan Palace
Right Now by The Creatures
BLT Merriam Webster word of the day challenge 08/15/25:
Meander = to follow a winding or intricate course.

*The right-bank is the north side of the river Saine - if the river’s flowing away from you - north’s on your right.
The Bees are gone and the butterflies are dying off.
Polar bears climb deadly cliffs to find birds eggs to eat.
Sea birds drown in coats of oil slick on the ocean.
And we sit watching on TV, munching on Doritos
While the news predicts the next tornado’s flash flood
And Canada plus the West Coast are in flames.

What the Hell is wrong with us- have we fried our brains
with TikTok memes and face Book.
Why aren’t we on charter busses aimed
At D.C. and state legislatures to demand
They think of us for once and not the gravy train
They ride collecting re-election funds.

Why do we mindlessly vote straight ticket
Instead of vetting each candidate for
What they’ve done to help the earth.
Then voting out the wastrels.

I know where to rent a bus
Will anybody ride with me.
ljm
Gotta yell once in a while
love is a wild
   whispering river
        where hearts t u m b l e
          in sweet chaos,

sacrifices linger—
   soft shadows,
      breathless echoes of
        what we give,

i am a pearl
   of kindness
      resting on your tongue,
         a promise,
         a fluttering
      in the d a r k.

nature cradles
   our wounds like
      fragile flowers,
         blooms of forgiveness
      s t r e t c h i n g toward the
            light of new beginnings,

in the womb of the universe,
   we breathe life into dreams,
      acknowledging the
         precious moments,
   sharing secrets
      whispered in the night—

and in the soft
   embrace of dying,
      we find the
         thread of healing,
   weaving yesterday
     into tomorrow—

oh, how we dance,
   the endless embrace,
      two souls
         spinning in
    the bittersweet
   rhythm of existence,

celebration in every touch,
   a symphony of heartbeats,
      where joy and sorrow
         i n t e r t w i n e,
   crafting a tapestry
      rich with love’s
   enduring grace.
Good morning and happy st. Valentine to those who celebrate it, may love be with you always ❣️
Here we are
       this and now  
          never turn your heart away !
Hear the song
that comes out strong
                then sweet ...
pure upon your lips of red

Birds of paradise
              fly high
           as they soar towards
                         the sun !

Here we are
                you and I
                        living for the other
                            as if we'll never die !
Watch the magician place magic in her hat
feel the incantation as she,  
in stealth-like fashion
                                           feasts one eye on you....
She is an alchemist with a sword of illusion
rabbit tricks hold you spellbound;

Blurring the lines between fantasy and reality
with the sleight of her hand
she transforms and vanishes !
Zig zag lady tricks,  divided into sections
high magic, low magic
a benevolent white dove appears

Observe carefully the magic that occurs
Chronometer moments vanishing time
luxurious ships are launched,  
                                        inside your mind !   
Hypno-levitation wands, magical performances
a necromancer holding alchemy in her bare hands.
Jazzy nights filled with romance
                      and glassy dreams !
Buildings lit beneath a sleepy sky
             of smudge coal gray
His hand gently placed in mine,
a breath away from me
he sits,
           sailor of my fantasies, ardor of my beating heart...  

A sailboat retires for the night
                      on the dock over quiet waters
inside the cafe, music plays softly
                                    like sensual summer winds
He gifts me a smile,
                                       and stars appear,
                                sending light into mine !  

Velvet time,            layered moments
                 filled with enfolding bliss
                              We share one kiss  !    
Truth be told,
he is the soulmate I longed for all my life
I am lost in love's hammock,
                        rocked by his slow candor,
I feel loved, clothed in fleece...  

Jazzy nights filled with perfume
                               and a budding slow romance
The saxophone plays on ....  
we speaking softly to each other,  
                               through silent glances.
 Aug 5 Pagan Paul
JRF
Open
 Aug 5 Pagan Paul
JRF
Open

My hands, palms up
My heart, every chamber.
My mind, my polluted, confused, exhausted mind is open
to you

To you
to love you
I’m so open
To loving you.

So give me a chance, won’t you?
~
Two minutes of perseverance
two minutes of curiosity

Seeking out life
returning with ingenuity

It's all about surfaces and thresholds
and winter hemisphere

Each of us wants so badly
to be that next satellite

Or at least be allowed
to dream we're a small dark spot
moving across the Sun's face

~
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