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


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