February 1, 2016

Rimbaud was poet as seer

Joachim von Sandrart
'Minerva and Saturn protect Art and Science of envy and falsehood'
1644



Rimbaud was poet as seer 


Oedipus thanks Antigone 
and warms his hands 
by the fire...says, now 
I smell the days 
and feel the nights 
on my skin...

calendrical rhetorical observations

are blinded to see 
therefore they bleed time 
are emitted admissions 
they fit to slit tits and tats 
can fill a flatworm sideways 
eyes to futurists 
palmed laughter 
given rides 

(what have you to gift me?...Charon asks liltingly)

I have mere words or so they seem 
seamed music, dancing to between(s) 
there is no chance, to parlay 
nor dug bones, soul sewn, could latch to
there is but me, another born, with want to see 
dressed in repugnant and given over to excess 
I want to know where do souls go, after life, that's best...

so if by promise, you cannot find me passage here alive 
then please, try me dead, for by this means, I will arrive 
as stated and intended to see where the souls are hid
on the other sides of these rivers 
humans stake temporary and infinity to...

and it is not that I want to know 
why you're here or even what you did  
it is that I need to know how the wind 
wears each of us or what scent 
have we to leave behind 
what expression can we carve into eons 
and what with may we let, someone in the future, know 
why it is, at least one soul came, claw-clutched and expressed 
this way home, in poem, wearing hair as hats, more or less...



EJR ©

7 comments:

  1. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Seeking to fictional-ize my own why, Rimbaud turned his back to his work, once glimpsed, sparked the piece...but, I must say, this third eye omniscient loam star tawdry and bawdy undertow was quite unintended but definitely funny now that you've mentioned it...

      Delete
    2. This comment has been removed by the author.

      Delete
    3. It always amazes me when there is a response here...as if we were always in the middle of a tempest of synapses firing off, fingers of freewill and lightning, choosing when to be ready to burn down the overgrown underbrush of a forest of hardwoods and pines, yoked to chaos, order and a constancy of erode between them...kudos to knowing your whipsaw frequencies...

      Delete
    4. This comment has been removed by the author.

      Delete