#french poems on Hello Poetry

Christopher Campbell Dec 2016

je peux voir des jonquilles en dehors de ma fenêtre
les jonquilles sont magnifiques
les jonquilles sont belles et gratuites
les jonquilles me rappellent
les jonquilles me rappellent l'amour
l'amour que j'ai pour elle
beau et gratuit
parfois je rêve des jonquilles
parfois je rêve d'elle
je rêve que nous sommes ensemble
nous sommes amoureux
je rêve que les autres nous regardent de **** et rêvent de ce que nous avons
je rêve que nous sommes des jonquilles dans l'amour
jonquilles se balançant dans la brise
nous sommes sans soucis

quand je me réveille
je la vois
je la vois dormir à côté de moi
je me souviens
je me souviens que ce n'est pas un rêve
elle n'est pas un rêve
nous ne sommes pas un rêve
nous sommes
nous sommes amoureux
nous sommes des jonquilles
jonquilles se balançant dans la brise

#romance #her #breeze #french #daffodils

Sean Harbor Nov 2016

A Better Person

I want to speak French, and read more, and wear suits more often but in a casual way, and also wear a watch, and design book covers as a side job, while working for and helping children who don’t have great homes.
I want to be a morally better person, and live life to its fullest potential, and stay in shape because I want to live long, and not because I want to look good. I want to be able to have a great time and remember it, I want to remember to take my meds every day for so long that it becomes part of me and I am finally better, I want to be in a triathlon.
I want to create art that makes you feel so alone that you don’t care what happens next, but make music that makes you want to live forever because there will never be enough time to experience everything you want to feel. I want to share moments with strangers that make us life long friends. I want to feel things I’ve never even thought were possible, and fall in love with people that I didn’t even think exist.

#love #life #thoughts #person #exist #children #french #reading #better #moral

Jasmin A Nov 2016

Crazy California Dreams

un.*
He smells of Hydrangea picked straight from Heaven's garden.
deux.
His lips letting the most fervently beautiful sound leave his body to reach me.
trois.
His eyes, containing the same pigment of my favorite chocolate, wash over me in those places he knows I want him to be.
quarte.
He moves closer in the most angelic way, pushes my hair back, kisses me ever so gently.
cinq.
this is what love feels like I'm thinking as he puts his palms against my back and we fall into each other like the lines on the painting we saw somewhere in Pennington.
six.
Unfathomable. That love I feel when he looks at me, hungry yet delicate. This could never get tiring.
sept.
I'm pushed against this wall and lifted onto his hips. Clothing seems to melt off of our infinite bodies so that we may fit entirely. Flesh meshed together. I can't tell where mine stops and his begins.
huit.
This is a fairy tail that never ends as our breathing becomes a pattern into each others mouths. Me in. Him out. We're our own song. Every stroke a beat. Every moan a voice. Every scratch a strum. We're beautiful.
neuf.
To the bed we go - never missing a beat. We're in sync and I couldn't love him more. More. Every stroke more. I'm on a cloud, the rest of the world no longer audible. He's panting.
Dix.
I love you.
**Fin

for L.
j.***

#love #passion #dreams #beautiful #iloveyou #hopeful #crazy #*** #french #oneday

gabriela Sep 2016

explanation kills art

let's talk about curiosity.* let's talk about gas burners and sidewalk cracks and how there are french towns in canada where people who don't know each other greet each other with a kiss on each cheek. this is a collection of all the things you knew would hurt and then did them anyways but made sure i was looking. like all those kisses and trips to petco and looking at me from the drivers side-- don't take your eyes off the road, you'll end up like the rest of them did. let me tell you about how my favorite sounds include the following: crickets, gas burners lighting, coffee brewing, and you on the last train to god knows where but the train is coming soon. i can hear the trembling carts on the railway and i can hear you and your voice sounds like getting drunk off wine and witty jokes, sounds like the mantra of "temptation" but in the most subtle way as if i'd mistake it for something holy just to see if you'd notice, sounds like an epiphany i've waited too long to hear, sounds like every "let's talk about it" and "you look alluring" and "i just couldn't help myself" put into one. but mostly. this is what you're going to have to sit down for, because i won't repeat it. does perpetual comfort exist at your train seat? even when i'm not there? does she sit next to you? or is all the spilled tea pooling at my feet explanation enough? i won't repeat it. not even to the sidewalk cracks or the broken compasses or the birds or the torn down bus seat behind ours or into your voicemail. i won't. especially not into your voicemail. *because here it is:

he makes me feel a little too much

#kiss #drunk #wine #idk #french #curiosity #voicemail #wow #train #explaination

Jason Harris Sep 2016

Tying the Loose Ends of a Poem Without Meaning Together

As the water birds lifted from the morning tide,
I found myself being lifted from an unconscious
state to the dictionary by four unfamiliar syllables

like the many poets before me, searching for
the meaning of nomenclature. Interestingly enough,
it could have been me on the other side of a poem

that I would come back to after sundown: an old,
scientific word who first appeared in 1610,
whose roots grew, naturally, like the hidden

interests of a loved one, from the Latin
nomenclatura (the assigning of names).

But instead, I ended up on this side of the poem,
sitting before an empty screen and a dictionary
in a Yankees ball cap and denim t-shirt, slowly

piecing together a poem about a 17th century novel
while trying to include the sudden interest of my
loved one: French parenting literature on healthy

eating, all while slowly tying the loose ends
of a poem without meaning together.

#love #poetry #novels #poets #creativewriting #french #latin #vocabulary #1610 #healthyeating

Phia Aug 2016

Beaux Rêves

Je vous souhaite de beaux rêves et les moyens pour les atteindre

I wish you beautiful dreams and the means to achieve them.

#dreams #french

NURUL AMALIA Jul 2016

If September Comes

Here.. I'm still under the sky
but different place and ground
I feel in medieval era atmosphere
Seeing lots of castles with old architecture
Beautiful view in Montmartre, the custom of art
Pampering my eyes

Autumn creates a wonderful art naturally
This place like a natural canvas
created by a magical brush from God's hand
Though Claude Monete and Renoir aren't exist anymore
I can see the blend colors of autumn with my naked eyes
There is yellow, orange, red and brown
such a lovely painting

Let me wear jacket this day
Cause the air makes me pretty cold
Strolling a countryside of French
Deciduous trees along village street
With bird song around
It's time to harvest
I like pumpkins in the field
Picking apples and pears in the orchard near Talcy castle

French is like a gold treasure
Paris in autumn this month
Eiffel tower is waiting me
I'm walking on the leaves carpet
So crisp under my feet
The maple trees above me shadowing
The leaves twirling
send them to dance in the air
Exceedingly romantic
I was sitting on bench wood
Oh.. if September comes

NA.2016

#love #dream #romantic #autumn #french #paris #deciduous #maple #eiffel

Steven Forrester Jul 2016

Mon Etoile Nouveau

I see her
Shining silently
Across the void
Across the galaxy
Across the universe
System is binary
Though close
To mononova
Honestly glad
The past is over
Mon cour et tien
She says
In her eyes
I know it's true
And patience
Is my strongest virtue
The vastness of space
And still in one place
My heart is moving
Breath taking
Where this journey
Ends I do not know
But I'll make the trek
With a new light
Mi estrella
Mon Etoile nouveau.

#love #happy #new #star #french #spanish

Caitlin Cacciatore Jul 2016

C'est la Vie

Well,
Such is life,
C’est la vie,
They tell me,
But I rebel
Against the very notion
And I just want you to know
Deep down inside
And then deeper still
That I do not accept your broken French
Because you don’t know ‘life’
Until you’ve made the decision it’s over,
And changed your mind.

You can find more of my poetry at caitlincacciatore.wordpress.com

#suicide #life #death #french

jinx Jun 2016

It's in my blood

The more I find out about family
History
I realize
That being a traitor
Is simply in my bloodline
I'm a cheap rosé
Pretending to be fine wine
From French nobility
To Spanish pride
My ancestors wrought havoc
On their own modern times
It's time for me to step up to the plate
And make my choice
To grow into the role I was assigned
Or write my own lines
But whatever I choose
The choice is mine
And I know whoever I am
I'll be great
remembered
divine,
How do I know?
It's simply in my bloodline.

#family #french #brothers #history #spanish #traitor #backstabbing