Wednesday, 23 November 2016

UNTITLED 11.22.2016


Ask the wind and the rocks
How we shall ever breathe
That sweet flow of springtime
Ever last ever fleeting
And I will sing to you a dirge
Of lives cast down upon seas
Ever restless and then
Build a shrine to knowing
Unwound as yarn across
A cold stone floor
That this though ought
Oh downcast gaze oh aye
Here is a meadow even
A sun dapple side glance
If it be a dream of loss and
Yet I lay me down under
Gathered midnight

UNTITLED 11/22/2016
By Bob Paris (c)

photo: Art Zeller, 1990 (c) Bob Paris

Monday, 12 September 2016

#MondayMotivation

Bob Paris official all rights reserved 2016 (c
Oh, to be out enjoying the front yard, minding one's own business -- only to be photo-bombed by Bambi!


Friday, 26 August 2016

#FlashbackFriday #BobParis

Circa 1989. Between photo locations. Santa Monica, CA.

Photo: Art Zeller. Bob Paris (c) all rights reserved

Tuesday, 26 April 2016

How Shall I Live?


How shall I live? 
Am I to be the seaward cliff upon which each wave shall constantly pound? 
I say yes.
I will stand firm inside my life and live eyes open, no matter the seas or the tides or the winds or the gods. 
I am here in this moment and I matter. 
If I live but a second, I matter. 

(c) Bob Paris 4.26.2016 










Photo: by Per Bernal (c) 1998

Thursday, 31 December 2015

On New Year’s Eve 2015 By Bob Paris ©2015

Along this star washed road walking
We see all around the promise of
A vast and sacred sky and there
Angels wave to goddess and beyond
To sun and moon and cedar shadowed
Oh shining mourn gently touched
Sung out boldly from rippled memory
Thou shalt never find a heart so aflame
Burnt intertwine with this spectral oh
Remember oh remember
Oh do you darling mine
Magnificent gods race through frosted glade
Whispering bough dances with a kiss
While night lay bled and day crouches hidden
Behind racing tide before a door that opens
As love comes on a lingering flicker
Of perfumed and expectant wind


On New Year’s Eve 2015
By Bob Paris ©2015
Photo: Brian LeFurgey (taken as I was writing this poem)

Sunday, 20 December 2015

WINTER SOLSTICE 2015 By Bob Paris ©


You are lovely to me as that moon
Waxing gibbous now above
This distant dapple canvas oh so near
In the spread of four o’clock dusk
Crawling proudly as ample fog afloat
Our favorite riverbank near the rush
Of blue ice tumbled over mossy stones
And light with me together candlewicks
That we might sing ourselves hopeful toward
The promise of tomorrow’s brighter dawning


WINTER SOLSTICE 2015 By Bob Paris ©