Best Paul Klee Poems
A stroke
Full of horror
I am cut off the list I am no more
My face contorted I am a mistake by the Artist
No eraser, an error and a cruel X, Klee has no time
He sees the end of world
In hazy anger, sadness-nothingness
Nothing to live for, Nothing to die for, Nothing to love for
An X
That says all
ON : Paul Klee-Struck Off the List (1933)
Contest Name Ekphrasis 12 Line Max
Sponsor Rick Parise
Poet: Rajat Kanti Chakrabarty
12/31/2014
Unifying colour & words
An idea never previously heard,
An experimental start
With his poetry picture art-
Paul Klee set the art world free.
Once emerged from the grey of night.
http://sunsite.icm.edu.pl/cjackson//klee/p-klee6.htm
In magnificent memory of Vee See’s zaniest chimpanzee
Probably discussed by merry monkey’s chipping chickadee
Readily and aptly apparent by three who seldom agree
Incredibly supping with Mamie, Marjorie and Mr. Paul Klee
Please pass the honey and the light brie said brazen bumblebee.
No one capably eats brie with lemon tea said a flickering flea.
Advice is free but listen, skinny skeleton, I dare you to try and oversee.
Chimpanzee and chickadee fell down laughing at this on one knee.
While viewing a painting I liked by Paul Klee,
A docent-in-training came over to me.
Can I ask you some questions, if you wouldn’t mind,
About “Old Married Couple,” as she’d been assigned.
I told her the woman appeared to berate
Her husband, who seemed to accept this as fate.
His eyes, closed or downcast, displayed on his face
Resignation, as if he’d accepted his place.
The trainee, amused, didn’t say I was wrong
But her script sang a very much different-type song.
The husband was sleeping, the wife, sitting near,
Gazed with tenderness - how it was meant to appear.
I called to my husband to see what he thought
And he gave me the answer that I would have sought.
He agreed with my take, all the proof that we’d need
That we sure are an “old married couple” indeed.
Valentine’s day chimpanzee has designs on me
I tell him I am taken, and he says “tee hee!”
I show him my initial, the ancient letter C.
He says come and sit down up my knee.
I tell him I am old enough to remember Paul Klee
He says we should spoon under the old oak tree
I tell him I cannot, for today they give ice cream for free
Introducing him to the king of the Old Grand Prix
My husband Chick looks down at the tiny chimpanzee
Scaring him so hard, that the little guy doth flee
He shot off faster than a golf ball on a magic tee.
I guess my husband Chickadee plans on keeping me.
Before you came
I spoke through rivers
and trees, the flat plains
spilling distance out to where
the world was a mirage
and time shimmered dreamlike
plunging downwards
into a vast inner sea.
Fish swam where now rocky
outcrops rise above the red earth
and exotic lifeforms floated
silently through a celestial dark.
All was an ocean of dream,
creations womb where earth,
sky and water were one
before being born
and pulled apart.
To pick up a line and take it for a stroll.
The essential is within, the mystics say,
but equally important is the outside:
a stunning summer sky, two wind-whipped clouds,
in the intense green background a dazzling yellow field.
The line crosses dead centre. To draw breath for surfaces,
smooth and cross-hatched: first impressions of place.
A distant rumbling. Scene changed by invisible stagehands.
Gadflies in sorties before the storm, a frenzy,
a slaughter: chaos linked up.
A flash on the horizon: a zig-zag line.
I set my face for rain. Paul notices a girl
with curly hair, fleeing: a spiraling movement.
A bridge comes into sight: row of curves. Lines
in his sketchbook appear in the richest profusion,
fading and gaining power, restrained and articulate move
and countermove. The rain’s blurring it all. The feeling of space
intensifies. Mesh and brickwork, when one returns to town.
Voice. Polyphony. Strange face. Smiling greeting.
Above us the stars are revealed: scattered points.
The painter’s tree grows from roots, but its crown
is a trip to the land of better knowledge. A flame-burst
directed by hand. A symphony of forms. A good thing
like a guiding thread in the dense bush at twilight.
A joyful equivalence. A whole.
Bee with pink wings delight me
Blue-haired woman hand forming a vee
Orange haired unicorn named Gypsy Lee
Green eyed warrior woman filled with glee
Butterflies flirting, alive and free
Red steampunk mama dressed like Paul Klee
Indian maid with peacock on her knee
How much more whimsical can they be?
Each one drawn out and painted by me
Creativity in every corner that I see
Many faeries zigzagging in clear pattern of Z
My artistic life suits me to a tee
Unifying colour & words
An idea never previously heard,
An experimental start
With his poetry picture art-
Paul Klee set the art world free.
Once emerged from the grey of night.
http://sunsite.icm.edu.pl/cjackson//klee/p-klee6.htm
Paul Klee set art free
with poetic art for all to see
'Once emerged ftom grey of night'
an inventive wordpicture to delight
......O. .
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TAKING A LINE FOR A WALK - Paul Klee
Paul Klee-
to be...in word-pictures
Paul Klee made a painting of poetry
unique & in rectangular geo-me-try
Charles Demuth with a reverse ekphrasis
made WCW figure 5 his innovative art thesis
Yours truly 'kindled' the emagi
a reverse ekphrasis digitally
Unifying colour & words
An idea never previously heard,
An experimental start
With his poetry picture art-
Paul Klee set the art world free.
NOTE: Uniquely Klee combines a poem( in German),within his art
'Once emerged from the grey of night'.(as seen in link)
Geology and biology are both to me
Confusing studies that are more than weirdly wee
artistic sands of the beach by the sea
speaks to thee, and speaks to me
I like astrology, darling, hungry chickadee
it makes me feel wild and free
giving me hope for a space odyssey
obscure, familiar, darling better-than-astronomy
Wow! Here come that crazy General Lee
over Atlanta's horizon, as I can see
the Civil war, how can this be?
History, baby, history
a chimpanzee beside a coconut tree
he’d better let me be, said Annabelle Lee
Poe’s protagonist, at twenty-three
She makes me think of poetry
As far as my arthritic left knee can see
I hear from my artistic friend Paul Klee
His canvases are expensive, as can be
Glad I am to pay his fee
Life is fun, good times are free
I live by the sea with my paul, Flea
Who has a habit of saying “gee”
add my donkey, and we are three