Rooftop Art, Paris

Amazingly nimble these fleet-footed artists must be!

The Town Hall of Paris

This magnificent structure has elaborate carvings, statues and windows galore.

Complicated Cat

Now, now, Pussy! There surely is an easier way to reach your goal?

Poets: Poem

.

Poets

.

Poets have no tools, never

No tangible tools that is to say

Some people even call them fools

Poets have a different worldview

Built on emotions, sensations, lacerations

Splinters of pain

And all that the heart holds to be true.

.

Poets have no right way or wrong way

(Its true that they often lose their way anyway) :

Poetry has always been difficult to define

Scrambled thoughts, scrambled lines

That is to say

Perfect lines, perfect rhymes

Clockwork metric thoughts and thou and thine

Stanzas, couplets and all the rest of it

My emotions flew jagged against the sky

My thoughts often threatened to run away

Like me; I speak about pain and despair

People who are going to die

Corpus callosum, existence ad infinitum

Transient joy, the rainbow arching

Spectral armies marching

Tramping, tramping down history's worn-out lanes

And the lines in a stranger's face

His apparent despair, his evident pain

Jerk me from those absolute, imperfect rhymes

I am myself corpus callosum-like again.

.

COPYRIGHT: Rani Turton

Cats On Country Road

One snoozing and one strolling. Its a cat's life!

Fountain, Chateau De Champs, France

At the Chateau of Champs-sur-Marne, a graceful fountain. This used to be La Pompadour's residance.

The Porsche Carrera 4S

Standing quietly on a road in Paris, this marvel of mechanical engineering.

Notre Dame, Paris

Notre Dame of Paris under the August sun and the many tourists that come to visit it during the holidays.

I Spoke To Liberty: Poem

I Spoke To Liberty

I spoke to liberty and liberty spoke to me
Asking softly, 'Do you really want to be free?'

I murmured to melancholy and melancholy said
' Why do all these thoughts go through your head?'

I asked for grace and grace touched my life
Saying, 'Quiet for now. Forget all your strife.'

Then I walked on alone. Touched to the bone.
The anger and the pain, washed by the rain

Dissolved as I wept.

Then, fortunately I slept.

I spoke to liberty and liberty spoke to me
Asking softly, 'Do you really want to be free?'

Copyright: Rani Turton

Sculpted angelots, Lille

Sculpted cherubims on a building in Lille.

A Wooden Door, A Metal Key: Poem

A Wooden Door, A Metal Key

A plain wooden door, nerve-ridden

A carved metal key, in my pocket hidden.

And secrets that lie behind that blank facade

A building, some windows, my dreams.

I wandered on those blind Parisian streets.

Nobody knew my name

Nobody knew where I came from

I was different, yet still the same.

A wooden door like corpus callosum

Holds my two worlds together .

I enter now, I walk out at midnight I flee

The buzzing and the hum.

Copyright: Rani Turton

Unusual Sculpture Under Balcony, France

Found under a balcony, this wonderful figure is to be found in a Parisian suburb.

Dust And Dreams: Poem

Dust And Dreams

There was dust and there were dreams
Born of imagination and longing
There was years of neglect and wanting
Then, a spark, kindled by thought
Set fire to memory; thus it was that poetry,
Longing and imagination came together
Gifting me a kind of liberty.

There was dust from an exiled country
There were dreams born of imagination and longing
The jewels, souvenirs, that glowed when all else in me was dead.

There was dust, then.
There were dreams.
But only, only when
Love redeems.

Copyright: Rani Turton

Flag and Lamps, Paris

The angle of the flag between the lamps seemed interesting.

Snoozing Cat

The hammock incites pleasant dreams!

Looking in the Same Direction

A perfect tandem, bird and cavalier!