Paris' dazzling lights

[Sweets America]

On the road, endlessly
rubbing the pavement in circles,
around the clock, missing the core
where the big city throbs;
A line transgressed ─ big trucks ─ the creeps ─
and my eyes exposed to death.

The world so indecently asleep! And I,
reluctantly awake to its hidden scars ─
Oh, how they scratch my eyes!
Just like those red skies, alarming lights,
so unlike those of my usual quiet nights.

Lighted shadows, dotted on dirty sidewalks;
Here! A 5 am Black wanderer
drifting towards our common hopeless night;
There! Santa Claus’ forgotten brother,
asleep on his rucksack of a home,
unaware of his own tormented fate.

So I cry, for these men who’ll never meet
my newly broken eyes,
for Paris’ dazzling lights,
and because here there is no time for bums,
as the million eyes continue to be amazed by museums,
immense doors opened on artificial joys,
hasty steps of golden boys,
angry cops and darting cars
and the incongruous beating of swarming lifeless hearts.

[PrinceMyshkin]

Like practically everything you post this has your 'signature' of passion and intelligence!

[goldenrod]

Brings back memories!

My Welsh friend Viktor Oberholzer (don't ask!) and me, wandering the streets of Paris to Les Halles...

Maurice singing about "le clochard"

Plus ce change, plus ce meme chose!

Thank you for the poem.

goldenrod.

[firefangled]

You have a quite striking way of saying things. This is a wonderful example.




So I cry, for these men who’ll never meet
my newly broken eyes,
for Paris’ dazzling lights,
and because here there is no time for bums,
as the million eyes continue to be amazed by museums,
immense doors opened on artificial joys...



Of course I was hard pressed to single these lines out of the rest that were equally as striking.

[Sweets America]

Thankies. :)

Goldenrod said:

My Welsh friend Viktor Oberholzer (don't ask!)

;)

Firefangled said:

Of course I was hard pressed to single these lines out of the rest that were equally as striking.

The funny thing is that Jer advised me to delete the whole last stanza because it "didn't bring anything to my poem". :p So I'm glad I didn't listen to the old man here. :D

Jerry-Shou said:

Like practically everything you post this has your 'signature' of passion and intelligence!

Thanks Shoutie. And sorry for the "old man". ;)

[PrinceMyshkin]

Thanks Shoutie. And sorry for the "old man". ;)

Doesn't bother me, Junior, notice how I refrain from calling you by one of MY pet names for you!

[ampoule]

How interesting, the darkness that the dazzling lights illumed for you. I liked that 'scratch my eyes' and the visual of Santa's forgotten brother.

[Sweets America]

How interesting, the darkness that the dazzling lights illumed for you. I liked that 'scratch my eyes' and the visual of Santa's forgotten brother.

Thanks Amp. Santa's forgotten brother...he was just like this, the man I saw. All alone and nobody cared for him, asleep there. He made me cry a lot.

[CdnReader]

On the road, endlessly
rubbing the pavement in circles,
around the clock, missing the core
where the big city throbs;
A line transgressed ─ big trucks ─ the creeps ─
and my eyes exposed to death.

The world so indecently asleep! And I,
reluctantly awake to its hidden scars ─
Oh, how they scratch my eyes!
Just like those red skies, alarming lights,
so unlike those of my usual quiet nights.

Lighted shadows, dotted on dirty sidewalks;
Here! A 5 am Black wanderer
drifting towards our common hopeless night;
There! Santa Claus’ forgotten brother,
asleep on his rucksack of a home,
unaware of his own tormented fate.

So I cry, for these men who’ll never meet
my newly broken eyes,
for Paris’ dazzling lights,
and because here there is no time for bums,
as the million eyes continue to be amazed by museums,
immense doors opened on artificial joys,
hasty steps of golden boys,
angry cops and darting cars
and the incongruous beating of swarming lifeless hearts.

A magnificent piece of writing, Sweets. I've missed your poetry here!! Please write more. :D

[Sweets America]

A magnificent piece of writing, Sweets. I've missed your poetry here!! Please write more. :D

Oh thank you so much, Donna. :)

[dibyendra]

On the road, endlessly
rubbing the pavement in circles,
around the clock, missing the core
where the big city throbs;
A line transgressed ─ big trucks ─ the creeps ─
and my eyes exposed to death.

The world so indecently asleep! And I,
reluctantly awake to its hidden scars ─
Oh, how they scratch my eyes!
Just like those red skies, alarming lights,
so unlike those of my usual quiet nights.

Lighted shadows, dotted on dirty sidewalks;
Here! A 5 am Black wanderer
drifting towards our common hopeless night;
There! Santa Claus’ forgotten brother,
asleep on his rucksack of a home,
unaware of his own tormented fate.

So I cry, for these men who’ll never meet
my newly broken eyes,
for Paris’ dazzling lights,
and because here there is no time for bums,
as the million eyes continue to be amazed by museums,
immense doors opened on artificial joys,
hasty steps of golden boys,
angry cops and darting cars
and the incongruous beating of swarming lifeless hearts.

Sweets, this poem portrays vivid images and it's so touching. I'm moved by this poem. A touch of torment and despair could be seen here and the imagery is quite vibrant. Great work Sweets! Keep up your great work!!! :thumbs_up

[Pendragon]

Wonderful poetry! ;) The feeling come through strong.

[firefangled]

The funny thing is that Jer advised me to delete the whole last stanza because it "didn't bring anything to my poem". :p So I'm glad I didn't listen to the old man here. :D



For me in this poem the eyes have it! It is all about your broken eyes, which by the last stanza you have quite revealed the full state of your overexposed and scratched eyes...so that when you say broken it is to the poem like a capacitor is to a circuit, releasing the charge that has been building.

[amanda_isabel]

beautiful, Sweets, really. Thank you for that.

[Sweets America]

Thanks a lot. :)