When I get to Paris…

Paris was always my dream, and I’ve been lucky enough to visit twice.  From their songs that mention Paris and from their interviews, it seems like the fellows and I are both enamored by the City of Lights.

But when I get to Paris
We’ll paint all our portraits
In brush-strokes of yellow
And christen the canvas
The left bank is crying
For colour to crown it
Like the roof of a palace
We’ll drink in the amber
When I get to Paris

Don’t you just feel like you’re there?  I know I do.  I’m sitting outdoors at one of those cafes, sipping vin rouge, enjoying my favorite pâté avec cornichons and writing in my journal (how très Parisienne of me, I know). The first time I was there, I was by myself.  Which was actually the best way for me to experience it – no one else to color (or should I say colour) my impressions.  I walked around just breathing it in, and I wrote and wrote and wrote (over 50 pages!) in my journal during my five days there.

You were the best of Montmartre Street life
You signed the tablecloth
Art has its price
It’s so hard to hold on
To the ghost of your breed
It takes ambition
To call the colours you need

Ah, Montmartre Street…I had my portrait painted there during my second visit by two different artists.  I still have them – I’ll have to dig them out.

Anyway, I can’t seem to find a video or audio file of Elton singing Paris on the web (which is too bad, since Elton’s voice sounds so good and la musique est incroyable trop)…so if I may, I’d like to share my own view of Paris. Hey, I ain’t Bernie, but the sentiment is heartfelt nonetheless…

My Paris

Finally
We met
Strangers
Introduced for the first time
I was nervous
I have admired you from afar
For as long as I can remember

Alone
Yet far from lonely
Inexplicably drawn
Like so many others
Relieved
That I could meet you
On my own terms

Humbled
I couldn’t talk to you
But your voice
Has always been clear to me
You’ve been calling my name
For so long
I knew you instantly

Awed
I walked
In the footsteps of history
Standing high on the hillside
Desperate to capture your soul
With my every breath

I dare not claim
To be worthy
Of your attention:
You are my grandest dream
I took much more
Than I could ever give
But therein lies your grace

Romanced by your legend
Charmed by the warmth of your palette
Calmed by the gentleness of your touch
I will cherish
These five days
Of our silent embrace

Now you’re a part of me
And I of you
I hope
That our acquaintance
Is special

Though my words
Do you no justice
I carry your passion
With me always:
My secret
My desire
My Paris

-Kimoreena (circa 1996)

Paris (Leather Jackets – 1986)

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s