Post the prose poems you found online (or in antique, outdated books) for credit today!
Also, Arthur Rimbaud was a prose poet. Witness:
ANTIQUE
Gracieux fils de Pan! Autour de ton front couronné de fleurettes et de baies tes yeux, des boules précieuses, remuent. Tachées de lies brunes, tes joues se creusent. Tes crocs luisent. Ta poitrine ressemble à une cithare, des tintements circulent dans tes bras blonds. Ton coeur bat dans ce ventre òu dort le double sexe. Promène-toi la nuit, en mouvant doucement cette cuisse, cette seconde cuisse et cette jambe de gauche.
Graceful son of Pan! Around your forehead crowned with little flowers and laurel, your eyes, those precious balls, revolve. Stained with wine dregs, your cheeks grow hollow. Your fangs gleam. Your chest is like a lyre, tinklings course through your blonde arms. Your heart beats in the belly where the double sex sleeps. Walk around at night, gently moving this thigh, this second thigh and this left leg.
2 comments:
Wasn't Pan totally a demon in some lore?
Pan was totally a demon--remember the e. e. cummings poem I handed out.
As for Arthur Rimbaud, he became the lover of a then-famous married poet, Paul Verlaine, when he was 16 or 17. Paul eventually shot him in a dispute while on holiday abroad, which had a cooling effect on the romance. Rimbaud later had woman lovers but did not, to my knowledge, ever marry.
Post a Comment