Tags » Arthur Rimbaud

Arthur Rimbaud: "My Bohemia"

My Bohemia

And so I set out, hands in pockets with no seams.
My overcoat, too, was becoming an ideal. 111 more words
Paul Weinfield

Thought and Expression (ecstasy and deafness)

Poetry, for me, is a form of bloodletting, a form of self-harm that provokes ecstatic experience. I write poetry for the same reasons that birds in captivity bite themselves and pluck their own feathers. 138 more words

My comics debated in the halls of academe!

After three years of studying comics in the context of completing my master’s degree in Art History, it’s gratifying to see that my own comics have themselves now occasionally become the object of academic interest. 107 more words

Poetry Comics

Le dormeur du val

C’est un trou de verdure où chante une rivière
Accrochant follement aux herbes des haillons
D’argent ; où le soleil, de la montagne fière,
Luit : c’est un petit val qui mousse de rayons. 136 more words

Evénements

Monday #2 -- LOL, not That #2 but OTHER WTFs!

This is — despite it being not yet 11a.m. — my #2 post of the day! It was going to be my first until I remembered it was the day on which Rimbaud died. 1,025 more words

Personal Journey

I have stretched ropes from steeple to steeple;garlands from window to window; golden chains from star to star, and I dance.

Quote

Lines Composed in Hall Two, Kings Place, 29 October 2014

CONSONANTS

B black, C black, D black, F black, G black,
H black, J black, K beige, L black, M black;

You get the picture . . .

Poetry