Poems on Arthur Rimbaud Published by Members Recently Online
#ArthurRimbaud
toniscales
Lost Girl
Lost Girl
Poem Published
25th Apr 2015 2:24am
25th Apr 2015 2:24am
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
toniscales
Lost Girl
Lost Girl
Poem Published
25th Apr 2015 2:24am
25th Apr 2015 2:24am
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
toniscales
Lost Girl
Lost Girl
Poem Published
25th Apr 2015 2:24am
25th Apr 2015 2:24am
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
Ahavati
Tams
Tams
Poem Published
31st Aug 2018 5:40am
31st Aug 2018 5:40am
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
859 reads
3 Comments
Ahavati
Tams
Tams
Poem Published
31st Aug 2018 5:40am
31st Aug 2018 5:40am
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
859 reads
3 Comments
Ahavati
Tams
Tams
Poem Published
31st Aug 2018 5:40am
31st Aug 2018 5:40am
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
859 reads
3 Comments
dartford
Paul S...
Paul S...
Poem Published
3rd Jul 2017 00:08am
3rd Jul 2017 00:08am
sans rhythm ...
rimbaud knew
that when it leaves you
must go, too ..
that when it leaves you
must go, too ..
#ArthurRimbaud
508 reads
4 Comments
Josh
Joshua Bond
Joshua Bond
Poem Published
5th Sep 2018 12:25pm
5th Sep 2018 12:25pm
A Life In The Day Of An Also-Ran
In an ageing morning
a larger life unlived
they took a graded turning
and set the boat adrift
then dozing on the shore-line
merely basked and bathed
to cover up the insult
that seasoned all the rage
but scorpions, remaining true
who knew this route so well
were not disturbed at all, you know,
by private little hells
the tide came in still resolute
and so the dance began …
a billion people, then some more
the ones who also ran.
a larger life unlived
they took a graded turning
and set the boat adrift
then dozing on the shore-line
merely basked and bathed
to cover up the insult
that seasoned all the rage
but scorpions, remaining true
who knew this route so well
were not disturbed at all, you know,
by private little hells
the tide came in still resolute
and so the dance began …
a billion people, then some more
the ones who also ran.
#anxiety
#identity
#LifeStruggles
#ArthurRimbaud
#TruthOfLife
758 reads
4 Comments
Josh
Joshua Bond
Joshua Bond
Poem Published
5th Sep 2018 12:25pm
5th Sep 2018 12:25pm
A Life In The Day Of An Also-Ran
In an ageing morning
a larger life unlived
they took a graded turning
and set the boat adrift
then dozing on the shore-line
merely basked and bathed
to cover up the insult
that seasoned all the rage
but scorpions, remaining true
who knew this route so well
were not disturbed at all, you know,
by private little hells
the tide came in still resolute
and so the dance began …
a billion people, then some more
the ones who also ran.
a larger life unlived
they took a graded turning
and set the boat adrift
then dozing on the shore-line
merely basked and bathed
to cover up the insult
that seasoned all the rage
but scorpions, remaining true
who knew this route so well
were not disturbed at all, you know,
by private little hells
the tide came in still resolute
and so the dance began …
a billion people, then some more
the ones who also ran.
#anxiety
#identity
#LifeStruggles
#ArthurRimbaud
#TruthOfLife
758 reads
4 Comments
Josh
Joshua Bond
Joshua Bond
Poem Published
5th Sep 2018 12:25pm
5th Sep 2018 12:25pm
A Life In The Day Of An Also-Ran
In an ageing morning
a larger life unlived
they took a graded turning
and set the boat adrift
then dozing on the shore-line
merely basked and bathed
to cover up the insult
that seasoned all the rage
but scorpions, remaining true
who knew this route so well
were not disturbed at all, you know,
by private little hells
the tide came in still resolute
and so the dance began …
a billion people, then some more
the ones who also ran.
a larger life unlived
they took a graded turning
and set the boat adrift
then dozing on the shore-line
merely basked and bathed
to cover up the insult
that seasoned all the rage
but scorpions, remaining true
who knew this route so well
were not disturbed at all, you know,
by private little hells
the tide came in still resolute
and so the dance began …
a billion people, then some more
the ones who also ran.
#anxiety
#identity
#LifeStruggles
#ArthurRimbaud
#TruthOfLife
758 reads
4 Comments
Josh
Joshua Bond
Joshua Bond
Poem Published
5th Sep 2018 12:25pm
5th Sep 2018 12:25pm
A Life In The Day Of An Also-Ran
In an ageing morning
a larger life unlived
they took a graded turning
and set the boat adrift
then dozing on the shore-line
merely basked and bathed
to cover up the insult
that seasoned all the rage
but scorpions, remaining true
who knew this route so well
were not disturbed at all, you know,
by private little hells
the tide came in still resolute
and so the dance began …
a billion people, then some more
the ones who also ran.
a larger life unlived
they took a graded turning
and set the boat adrift
then dozing on the shore-line
merely basked and bathed
to cover up the insult
that seasoned all the rage
but scorpions, remaining true
who knew this route so well
were not disturbed at all, you know,
by private little hells
the tide came in still resolute
and so the dance began …
a billion people, then some more
the ones who also ran.
#anxiety
#identity
#LifeStruggles
#ArthurRimbaud
#TruthOfLife
758 reads
4 Comments
Josh
Joshua Bond
Joshua Bond
Poem Published
5th Sep 2018 12:25pm
5th Sep 2018 12:25pm
A Life In The Day Of An Also-Ran
In an ageing morning
a larger life unlived
they took a graded turning
and set the boat adrift
then dozing on the shore-line
merely basked and bathed
to cover up the insult
that seasoned all the rage
but scorpions, remaining true
who knew this route so well
were not disturbed at all, you know,
by private little hells
the tide came in still resolute
and so the dance began …
a billion people, then some more
the ones who also ran.
a larger life unlived
they took a graded turning
and set the boat adrift
then dozing on the shore-line
merely basked and bathed
to cover up the insult
that seasoned all the rage
but scorpions, remaining true
who knew this route so well
were not disturbed at all, you know,
by private little hells
the tide came in still resolute
and so the dance began …
a billion people, then some more
the ones who also ran.
#anxiety
#identity
#LifeStruggles
#ArthurRimbaud
#TruthOfLife
758 reads
4 Comments
DU Poetry : Poems on Arthur Rimbaud Published by Members Recently Online
#ArthurRimbaud is curated by Ahavati (Tams).
