Paris is the City of Light

Paris is the City of Light
Spotted by puddles of darkness &
Forever burning lights.
Who at first, allured us,
Then wouldn’t allow us to leave her side.
Though she may be so much older than you or I,
She was, after all my life is recalled,
My greatest lover, ever.
Please remember Paris with fond tenderness
And fire.
I Once Knew A Woman Thrice; in Santa Cruz, Paris and Philadelphia

recently returned some poems I had sent her from far, far ago when we ere young and in lust and barely able to bare the sight or scent of each other without fainting into reverie and floating together; clouds that had long since let go of their rain.
It is a gift to visit ancient ports and distant shores.
Time is as big as the world it passes by.
So it is with words:
mad dog
hiding in the rain.
sharp stone
never show your pain.
some kind of innocence
is nourished in your fears.
you don’t know how much
I’ve tried just to hold you near.
(there is no way out-
-there is no way out).
the poet earns his keep
from reading the pain in others eyes
while his eyes are fountains
of tear drops and shattered sunlight.
Igor Goldkind 1983
You love me, I know with your own hands
For I am faithful to your fingertips.
When you pierce me with your wide-eyed glances,
I am stilled.
The earth grows roots around my calves,
And my body is made of branches.
Your gaze shivers their leaves like an Autumn breeze.
Igor Goldkind 1977
Zen
you are
the vessal
made usefull
by the emptiness
within
Igor Goldkind late 70’s
And then Paris, 1986: