Rolling from his lips, those dreams
like sipping your pastis
of milky wormwod bitterness.
But bending backwards you still meet
his promiscuous promises
of afternoons – anonymous
in Rive Gauche hotel-rooms.
and only afterwards you realize
that oily puddle rainbows
never hide a pot of gold.
photograph by Robert Doisneau
Linked to Mag-tales
—
December 14, 2014
Björn Rudbergs writings 
interesting how everyone sees this photo differently. I guess we have to kiss a lot of frogs before we find the one who is a prince of a fellow!
Indeed.. and many princes that are frogs..
well…it´s a possibility…:)
Indeed
Good play on words, the rolling gait of “promiscuous promises of afternoons anonymous”.
I often start my poems around such word combinations.. 🙂
Yikes –oily puddle rainbows sound very suggestive in kind of an almost pornographic way! Thanks! K.
It could very well be.. certainly with promiscuous promises.
Ah! What a disappointment you prepared for us, Bjorn 😉
Yes some days we only find disappointment
simple. plain truth of life!
Simple but sad
Bjorn, Sounds like broken dreams on rainy days. Well written. — Suzanne
There are those sad days….
You kind of made me think of a great series of poems I could call ‘stories behind kisses’ if I were a good storyteller. So many photos and paintings on the topic.
Do people in Europe also want to fall in love and live unforgettable romances in Paris? I’m not that picky, I could use some romance no matter where in the world.
This poem also reminds me of this movie called “An education”, have you seen it? Some people do go all the way to Paris to have their dreams broken.
Curiously, I was going to post this poem of mine called “meet me in Paris” to the Toads open link this morning, but I wrote a new one because I couldn’t sleep. My setting was also Rive Gauche. 🙂 I’ll make it public near future.
Thanks for coming to read me throughout this year always with a nice word at your fingertips. I am thankful for your friendship.
Kiss.
I love to try to find the story in a picture.. and often I try to find a story less obvious than the picture shows. Your idea of kisses sounds like an excellent one.. I hope you pursue it.. I find your comment on the film quite intriguing.. but alas I have never seen it… the really interesting part is that I often have received comments on my narrative writing that it reminds them of a film (that I have rarely seen)..
Paris as a place for love.. hmm yes there is that image, but I think you find it where you are.. but certainly there are many books and films that give you that image.. love you find where you happen to be though,
The hotel may be gauche but you sir, are adroit …
Ah.. rive gauche is named for left in french.. but I certainly see the connection.
Word weaver, you are. I hope she wises up. I enjoyed learning about Pastis and finding that it means ‘mash up’ just adds another layer. This is a two thumbs up.
Pastis also means that liquor that you drink in Paris cafés often mixed with water to give it a milky look.. It replaced the more famous absinthe with main ingredient being wormwood..
For me, this poem does capture nuances of Europe in its classical feel and I love the backdrop of city in your exploration of relationships. We are ever bound to place.
Maybe, Stockholm might be close to Paris in some sense… and the picture has a lot of Paris in it..
Lyrical…add music asap!
Jaques Brel?
Bjorn I really liked out sensible and human this poem is. There are times when we are willing to throw ourselves into the fire, if it leads to happiness, and sometimes we soon realize that that happiness isn’t what we dreamed it to be. Really well written! 🙂
Definitely like this one!
Wonderful! “promiscuous promises”: I believe you’ve coined a neologism that should, probably, be fast-tracked into western urban plain-speak, asap. Why keep circling the drain when “promiscuous promises” cuts right to the heart of a plethora of relationship issues. What a inspired phrase!
Brilliant. Sometimes we give a moment, a single act, too much importance… just to find out that they weren’t even close to what we thought.
They have a way with the ladies! And they are not all blondes! Great lines Bjorn!
Hank
Indeed .. there are those guys..
Ha. Too bad it was only afterward that she realized, but at least she did realize!
Perfectly captures the furtive feeling of an ill-advised affair
A tale spun beautifully from this photo. I had no inspiration for this one.
“oily puddle rainbows
never hide a pot of gold.” – Brilliant use of imagery. I loved it. This echoes the other side of the the story I tried to capture in my poem based on this particular prompt.