[1142] In Paris with You
Guest poem sent in by ochemma <ochemma@>
Don’t talk to me of love. I’ve had an earful
And I get tearful when I’ve downed a drink or two.
I’m one of your talking wounded.
I’m a hostage. I’m maroonded.
But I’m in Paris with you.
Yes, I’m angry at the way I’ve been bamboozled
And resentful at the mess that I’ve been through.
I admit I’m on the rebound
And I don’t care where are we bound.
I’m 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.
Don’t talk to me of love. Let’s talk of Paris,
The little bit of Paris in our view.
There’s that crack across the ceiling
And the hotel walls are peeling
And I’m in Paris with you.
Don’t talk to me of love. Let’s talk of Paris.
I’m in Paris with the slightest thing you do.
I’m in Paris with your eyes, your mouth,
I’m in Paris with…..all points south.
Am I embarrassing you?
I’m in Paris with you.
-- James Fenton
|
(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. Fenton’s 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:
http://books.guardian.co.uk/fentonserial/story/0,12098,819318,00.html
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From: "Supriya Nair" <nair_supriya@>
So this is 'Love Disappointed' week, is it?? :))
This poem reminded me of one of those English films from the 50s and
60s, all golden scarves and red lipstick, mercifully faded into dignity
by the years. And the miserable gorgeous blonde heroine with the scruffy
charmer. Hope fails us when they meet and embark on their seemingly
self-destructive tour of the foreign city, and yet, in the end, for our
own sakes, we believe they will come together. Of course, they must.
Human happiness depends on the Hollywoodish predictability of their
fates. And they do!
Supriya.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
GLOSSINA MORSITANS, OR, THE TSETSE
- Ogden Nash.
A glossina morsitans bit rich Aunt Betsy.
Tsk, tsk, tsetse.
From: "Supriya Nair" <nair_supriya@>
So this is 'Love Disappointed' week, is it?? :))
This poem reminded me of one of those English films from the 50s and
60s, all golden scarves and red lipstick, mercifully faded into dignity
by the years. And the miserable gorgeous blonde heroine with the scruffy
charmer. Hope fails us when they meet and embark on their seemingly
self-destructive tour of the foreign city, and yet, in the end, for our
own sakes, we believe they will come together. Of course, they must.
Human happiness depends on the Hollywoodish predictability of their
fates. And they do!
Supriya.
-------------------------------------------------------------------
GLOSSINA MORSITANS, OR, THE TSETSE
- Ogden Nash.
A glossina morsitans bit rich Aunt Betsy.
Tsk, tsk, tsetse.
From: "Kristine" <kristinej@>
Hello,
My name is Kristine and I live in South Dakota and attend Black
Hills State University. We are studying Fenton's poem, In Paris With
You. I have been searching the web for any recitations of this
particular poem and where I might be able to purchase it. This was the
only site I have found that had this poem on it and I noticed that you
had e-mailed it in. If you know where I might be able to find it please
let me know. Thank you for your time.
Kristine
From: "The Gibson Gallery" <ggallery@>
you can find the poem in Out of Danger by James fenton, i dont know if
this is any good to you anymore. just thought id let you know.
candice