Poems Inspired by Arthur Rimbaud
#ArthurRimbaud
Poems inspired by Jean Nicolas Arthur Rimbaud. Here you'll find poetry using the style, themes or characters found in poems and letters by Arthur Rimbaud. Along with poems about Rimbaud himself, including praise, criticism and memorials.
The Great Divide
There is a Great Divide
defined differently
by each personality;
it can be seen as black
or perhaps Palestinian
So narrow the Divide
it can close unto death
before widening
to accept difference;
wearies of itself;
loses short-term memory
Remembers younger days
playground antics
void of color and race
Sometimes it stands guard
to the entry
of the heart;
where it doesn't stand
a...
defined differently
by each personality;
it can be seen as black
or perhaps Palestinian
So narrow the Divide
it can close unto death
before widening
to accept difference;
wearies of itself;
loses short-term memory
Remembers younger days
playground antics
void of color and race
Sometimes it stands guard
to the entry
of the heart;
where it doesn't stand
a...
#LifeAsAWriter
#WritingPoetry
#ArthurRimbaud
860 reads
3 Comments
A Multitude of Woes
As a young man,
I was always obsessed
By melancholy.
I saw deep sadness,
The quality
That so tormented my heroes,
Such as Arthur Rimbaud,
And Montgomery Clift,
As glamorous and romantic,
But it’s not…
It’s not remotely romantic,
When you yourself are adrift,
And weighed down,
By a multitude of woes.
I was always obsessed
By melancholy.
I saw deep sadness,
The quality
That so tormented my heroes,
Such as Arthur Rimbaud,
And Montgomery Clift,
As glamorous and romantic,
But it’s not…
It’s not remotely romantic,
When you yourself are adrift,
And weighed down,
By a multitude of woes.
#sadness
#heartbroken
#romantic #ArthurRimbaud
#romantic #ArthurRimbaud
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4 Comments
Ailuros
I am the
Wild mechanics in the ways you move, she says,
Where only my voiceless sunlight resides,
The echoing wind in its rays.
Where have all the sidewalks
Gone when the crevice flower cries?
Oh Charlie Parker, we love you
Forever the Steppenwolf,
Suspended, like some ancient fly
In amber. Now only laughter
Where there was once only pain.
A ghost of a world passes
On around you, long after you
Shed those early autumn’s
Years, to laugh at last.
Even when Rimbaud was
Alone, we knew each other...
Wild mechanics in the ways you move, she says,
Where only my voiceless sunlight resides,
The echoing wind in its rays.
Where have all the sidewalks
Gone when the crevice flower cries?
Oh Charlie Parker, we love you
Forever the Steppenwolf,
Suspended, like some ancient fly
In amber. Now only laughter
Where there was once only pain.
A ghost of a world passes
On around you, long after you
Shed those early autumn’s
Years, to laugh at last.
Even when Rimbaud was
Alone, we knew each other...
#mythology
#ArthurRimbaud
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I am No' thern Sea
Tide goes out comes back
But I am no' thern Sea
I am just a stream that flows to the sea
Water that came from ice
And brought na-rud-red down
Carries bodies from the war
And careless garlands of the young
Murmurs to the sea
So much piss and shit
Brooks no laughter
Brooks that laughed at me
No I am not the emerald Sea
Not even the bracken rocks
I'm a stream and
Streams do not go back
Yanaka, from Dust Paths of Dar
Said to have been Rimbaud's lover, writing masi...
But I am no' thern Sea
I am just a stream that flows to the sea
Water that came from ice
And brought na-rud-red down
Carries bodies from the war
And careless garlands of the young
Murmurs to the sea
So much piss and shit
Brooks no laughter
Brooks that laughed at me
No I am not the emerald Sea
Not even the bracken rocks
I'm a stream and
Streams do not go back
Yanaka, from Dust Paths of Dar
Said to have been Rimbaud's lover, writing masi...
#sea
#ArthurRimbaud
840 reads
4 Comments
sans rhythm ...
rimbaud knew
that when it leaves you
must go, too ..
that when it leaves you
must go, too ..
#ArthurRimbaud
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4 Comments
Twilight
(2002)
In a twilight sleep, just before the hour
of my death, the room shifts
from the weight of a pill.
I have lost my language, love,
moving like a house as I have
for thirty years within
the stained cracks of churches,
and churches are stationary,
churches never move.
I am finished with it all
as I pull my peasant’s robe
tightly about my shoulders.
I have seen the angel-face
of Rimbaud as he squats
within his squalid grave.
I turned my face away from his.
He never forgot and as I...
In a twilight sleep, just before the hour
of my death, the room shifts
from the weight of a pill.
I have lost my language, love,
moving like a house as I have
for thirty years within
the stained cracks of churches,
and churches are stationary,
churches never move.
I am finished with it all
as I pull my peasant’s robe
tightly about my shoulders.
I have seen the angel-face
of Rimbaud as he squats
within his squalid grave.
I turned my face away from his.
He never forgot and as I...
#dark
#death
#ArthurRimbaud
757 reads
3 Comments
Write
I can taste the certain sadness
of Thomas' "Fern Hill,"
as the apple boughs groan and crack
& the fruit begins to wilt.
The prowess of Rimbaud, l'enfant terrible,
induces a blinding pang;
For I too am poisoned
by the Gaelic blood, the dreaded mauvais sang.
I am riddled with despair
each time I revisit Baudelaire,
And yet I find strange solace there,
where darkness laid bare.
In every poem,
a tiny truth is spun;
For every poet,
a dance with death is done.
Better now to stain...
of Thomas' "Fern Hill,"
as the apple boughs groan and crack
& the fruit begins to wilt.
The prowess of Rimbaud, l'enfant terrible,
induces a blinding pang;
For I too am poisoned
by the Gaelic blood, the dreaded mauvais sang.
I am riddled with despair
each time I revisit Baudelaire,
And yet I find strange solace there,
where darkness laid bare.
In every poem,
a tiny truth is spun;
For every poet,
a dance with death is done.
Better now to stain...
#LifeAsAWriter
#WritingPoetry
#ArthurRimbaud #PowerOfWords
#ArthurRimbaud #PowerOfWords
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1 Comment
TO WRITE INDEED
AN HEAVY DREAM
AFTER
AN HEAVY SUPPER I SUPPOSE:
HOLY WEED
HOLY NEED
ALL I SEE IS
AN ASTONISHING
CUP OF RAINBOW
DOWN IN THE HELL
LIKE RIMBAUD
I MEAN,NO MATTER THE SEASON:
A COLORFUL DORMANCY, DEAR HUMAN BEINGS
BOHEMIANS LIKE YOU AND LIKE ME, LISTEN:
OPEN YOUR MIND,
OPIUM OR FIGHT?
WHYSKEY OR WEEPING?
DYING OR DREAMING?
BROTHERS AND SISTERS,
WALKING ACROSS THE OCEAN
OF SHARKS AND MERMAIDS
WE'LL FIND A TREE
TRIBES OF PAGANS
AND A GOOD REASON
TO WRITE INDEED.
AFTER
AN HEAVY SUPPER I SUPPOSE:
HOLY WEED
HOLY NEED
ALL I SEE IS
AN ASTONISHING
CUP OF RAINBOW
DOWN IN THE HELL
LIKE RIMBAUD
I MEAN,NO MATTER THE SEASON:
A COLORFUL DORMANCY, DEAR HUMAN BEINGS
BOHEMIANS LIKE YOU AND LIKE ME, LISTEN:
OPEN YOUR MIND,
OPIUM OR FIGHT?
WHYSKEY OR WEEPING?
DYING OR DREAMING?
BROTHERS AND SISTERS,
WALKING ACROSS THE OCEAN
OF SHARKS AND MERMAIDS
WE'LL FIND A TREE
TRIBES OF PAGANS
AND A GOOD REASON
TO WRITE INDEED.
#drugs
#LifeAsAWriter
#MyInspiration #ArthurRimbaud
#MyInspiration #ArthurRimbaud
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1 Comment
My muse has left me
Inspired by Rimbaud and baudelaire.
***
My muse has left me.
Alone,aroused and unfulfilled.
The embers of Promethean idea remain aglow.
My wrist is frustrated
with empty passion.
The brooding of unfertilised spermazoa-
potentiate and stagnate.
creation impatiently girds in my loins .
Expectations of intercourse with my muse
consume me like the worms on moist soil of dead husks
drying out and eviscerating from inside.
Listless self absorbed misery
sickly and withered
Amputated from life.
The vacuous escape of self...
#lust
#myself
#frustration #ArthurRimbaud
#frustration #ArthurRimbaud
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DU Poetry : Poems Inspired by Arthur Rimbaud
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Ahavati
#ArthurRimbaud is curated by Ahavati (Tams).