Best Symbolist Poems
battle of the sexes
~~MONA LISA SMILE
Picture Oil painting worthwhile
Leonardo DA Vinci, look out!
What is she really smiling about?
(((The popularity of the Mona Lisa increased in the mid 19th century
because of the Symbolist movement. The painting was thought to
encompass a sort of feminine mystique.)))
~~JAMES EARL JONES
His award winning voice, rough like stones
Darth Vader, Mufasa, stuttering jubilee
When I die can he be the one narrating my eulogy?
(((I love James, I'm a star wars freak... <--- yup that's me)))
~~SADDAM AND BIN LADEN
Were very bad, bad men
Causing chaos throughout America & Afghanistan,
HATERS OF THE USA: they should be called the Arab ku klux klan
(((Occupation: Terrorist~ makes me wonder if they went to the same school.)))
~~ADOLF HITLER
The world worse killer
Commander of the oxymoron Nazi
Losing at his own game of Yahtzee
(((The Most Hated Murderer of all time)))
~~YOUNG ANNE FRANK
Her diary worth more than any bank
Famous Jewish victims of the Holocaust
Her legacy teaches that hate is an exhaust
(((Anne Frank's diary remains one of the most moving and widely read
accounts of the Jewish experience during the Holocaust.)))
~~JOAN OF ARC
Angel in an era so dark
an epic hundred year war
her visions is what she payed for.
(((Joan of Arc, also called the Maid of Orleans, a patron saint of France
and a national heroine, led the resistance to the English invasion.)))
~~BB KING
Can really sing
Stand by me...
But, can he sting like a bee
(((BB KING~ could not help but wonder if he was a lover and a fighter.)))
~~LADY GAGA
Is no piano sonata,
Madonna wannabe, is she.
Watching her videos make me laugh till I pee.
(((Lady Gaga is Unique as can be!)))
by;p.d.
for battle of the clerihew
Categories:
symbolist, funny, history, me,
Form:
Clerihew
Early days as a flaneur;
I recall the couple
On the Metro
When I was still innocent
Of its labyrinthine complexities;
Slim pretty white girl,
Clad head to toe
In new blue denim,
Wistfully smiling
While her muscular black beau
Stared straight through me
With fathomless, fulgorous orbs;
And one of them spoke
(Almost in a whisper):
"Qu'est-ce que t'en pense?"
Then it dawned on me...
The slender young Parisienne
With the distant desirous eyes
Was no less male than I.
Being screamed at in Pigalle,
And then howled at again
By some kind of wild-eyed
Drifter who told me to go
To the Bois de Boulogne to seek
What he clearly saw as my destiny;
Getting soused in Les Halles
With Sara
Who'd just seen Dillon as
Rusty James,
And was walking around in a daze;
Sara again with Jade
At the Caveau de la Huchette.
Cash squandered
On a cheap gold-plated toothbrush,
Portrait sketched at the Place du Tertre,
Paperback books
By Symbolist poets,
Second hand volumes
By Trakl and Deleve,
And a leather jacket from
The flea market
At the Porte de Clignancourt.
Metro taken to Montparnasse,
Where I slowly sipped
A demi blonde
In one of those brasseries
(Perhaps)
Immortalised by Brassai;
Bewhiskered old man
In a naval officer's cap,
His table bestrewn
With empty wine bottles
And cigarette butts,
Repeatedly screeched the name
"Phillippe!" until a bartender
With patent leather hair,
Filled his wineglass to the brim,
With a mock-obsequious:
"Voila, mon Captaine!"
I cut into the Rue du Bac,
Traversed the Pont Royal,
Briefly beheld
Saint-Germain-l'Auxerrois,
With its gothic tower,
Constructed only latterly,
In order that
The 6th Century church
Might complement
The style of the remainder
Of the 1er Arrondissement,
Before steering for the
Place du Chatelet,
And onwards...Les Halles!
Categories:
symbolist, friend, loneliness, pain, paris,
Form:
Prose Poetry
...my paris begins with those early days as as a conscious flaneur I recall the couple seated opposite me on the metro when i was still innocent of its labyrinthine complexity slim pretty white girl clad head to toe in denim smiling wistfully while her muscular black beau stared through me with fathomless orbs and one of them spoke almost in a whisper qu'est-ce-que t'en pense and it dawned on me yes the slender young parisienne with the distant desirous eyes was no less male than me dismal movies in the forum des halles and beyond being screamed at in pigalle and then howled at again by some kind of madman or vagrant who told me to go to the bois de boulogne to meet what he saw as my destiny menaced by a sinister skinhead for trying on tessa's wide-brimmed hat getting soused in les halles with sara who'd just seen dillon as rusty james and was walking in a daze sara again with jade at the caveau de la huchette jazz cellar the cafe de flore with milan who asked for a menu for me and then disappeared back to bretigny cash squandered on a gold tootbrush two tone shoes from close by to the place d'italie portrait sketched at the place du tertre paperback books by symbolist poets such as villiers de l'isle adam but second hand volumes by trakl and deleve and a leather jacket from the marche aux puces porte de clignancourt losing cary's address scrawled on a page of musset's confession walking the length and breadth of the rue st denis, what an artists (sic) paradise (as juliette once wrote me)...
Categories:
symbolist, friendship, memory, nostalgia, paradise,
Form:
Free verse
my paris begins with
those early days
as a conscious flaneur
i recall the couple
seated opposite me
on the metro
when i was still innocent
of its labyrinthine complexity
slim pretty white girl
clad head to toe in denim
smiling wistfully
while her muscular black beau
stared through me
with fathomless orbs
and one of them spoke
almost in a whisper
qu'est-ce-que t'en pense
and it dawned on me
yes the young parisienne
with the distant desirous eyes
was no less male than me
dismal movies
in the forum des halles
being screamed at in pigalle
and then howled at again
by some kind of madman
or vagrant who told me
to go to the bois de boulogne
to meet what he saw
as my destiny
menaced
by a sinister skinhead
for trying on tessa's
wide-brimmed hat
getting soused in les halles
with sara
who'd just seen
dillon as rusty james
and was walking in a daze
sara again with jade
at the caveau
de la huchette jazz cellar
cash squandered
on a gold tootbrush
two tone shoes
from close by
to the place d'italie
portrait sketched
at the place du tertre
paperback books
by symbolist poets
but second hand volumes
by trakl and deleve
and a leather jacket
from the marche aux puces
porte de clignancourt
losing gary's address
scrawled on a page
of musset's confession
walking the length
and breadth of the rue st denis,
what an artist's paradise
(as juliette once wrote me).
Categories:
symbolist, books, city, drink, fear,
Form:
Free verse
Demon (M. Vrubel)
The hour.
The hour of violet.
Who’s there above the violet
twilight flying?
It’s gnawing its flesh
and hits its shadow in the rocks.
It’s you, isn’t it?
The last child of sorrow.
The lost breath of God.
The fear of the strong
of himself?
It’s burning – the silver
of desperate Vrubel.
Mikhail Aleksandrovich Vrubel (Russian: ?????´? ??????´??????? ???´????; March 17, 1856 - April 14, 1910, all n.s.) is usually regarded amongst the greatest Russian painters of the Symbolist movement. In reality, he deliberately stood aloof from contemporary art trends, so that the origin of his unusual manner should be sought in the Late Byzantine and Early Renaissance painting.
Categories:
symbolist, color, silver, symbolism,
Form:
Free verse
Spleen
by Paul Verlaine
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
The roses were so very red;
The ivy, impossibly black.
Dear, with a mere a turn of your head,
My despair’s flooded back!
The sky was too gentle, too blue;
The sea, far too windswept and green.
Yet I always imagined?or knew?
I’d again feel your spleen.
Now I'm tired of the glossy waxed holly,
Of the shimmering boxwood too,
Of the meadowland’s endless folly,
When all things, alas, lead to you!
Paul-Marie Verlaine (1844-1896) was a French poet and a prominent figure in the Symbolist and Decadent poetry movements. Verlaine has been called "one of the most purely lyrical of French poets." Keywords/Tags: Verlaine, French, translation, Paris, spleen, rose, roses, ivy, depression, despair, sky, sea, blue, green, red, black, holly, boxwood
Categories:
symbolist, blue, depression, green, paris,
Form:
Verse
THE MUSE
I shall leave the city, the bustling town.
I shall walk to the outskirts of the wild plains,
And drink from heaven mystic rains,
Lying in the reeds, drunk upon the down.
My shoes are worn, of coats I have one.
I am a martyr of the furrows and the fields at play.
I live for adventure and the brilliant, gilded, golden day,
Come the weeping moon, or the soporific, gleaming sun.
I have in my pocket a notebook I keep.
I wield it come the dawn, along with my flask.
I compose florid verse, a vagabond’s task,
Beneath the blue sky, where the angels sleep.
I drink my wine after rhyme and prose,
In the flowery cradle of a garden-close.
I am struck by visions beside the lane,
On warm, autumn nights, at one with the rain.
I take my dreams for what they are:
The flow of ethereal, lavender seas,
Which rise to every astonishing star,
Swallowing their ecstasies.
I hallucinate when rainbows pass.
I am a symbolist, a saint.
My pages are my canvass.
My stanzas are my paint.
O, muse, I have been faithful to you! -
On trains, on foot, in poverty,
I have brought down the sky and raised the sea!
I have resurrected gold to its rightful hue!
As an alchemist I have perceived the wondrous blending
Of blue and red gems in unions never-ending.
I am the world’s greatest scholar:
All mysteries are known to me.
The forest is my exquisite parlor;
The firmament: Infinity!
Every brook is romantic; all my kisses are of fire.
My lover’s name is Mary; there is music in the marvelous sun!
To paradise I aspire,
To the bliss of everyone!
John Lars Zwerenz
{C} 2018
Categories:
symbolist, adventure, art, beautiful, christian,
Form:
Verse
A poet from France Stephane Mallarme
was always cool and so calm
by repute the foremost Symbolist
but his Livre* publication he missed.
*Mallarme never saw published his experimental style Livre(book)
Categories:
symbolist, people, poets,
Form:
Clerihew
"The Three Ages of Woman," painted by
the noted symbolist named Gustav Klimt;
from Austria, late-nineteenth century
till early twentieth, he left his mark.
At center, woman with her child held close;
his view of motherhood, fertility,
so goddess-like, entwined in sheer chiffon.
Flushed cheeks, gold hair, and alabaster skin;
this paradigm of procreation, youth,
portrays his essence of a woman's worth.
But, on the left, with buried face, there stands
his sad, old woman, posed in deep despair,
with saggy flesh, frail bones, and bulging veins;
now stripped of womanhood, alone, forlorn.
Skin, drab and mottled with her loss of youth;
in darker hues, he paints his disesteem.
Unfair, demeaning, is this image shown
that only honors women in their youth;
that casts the old as ugly, worthless souls.
And absent is the brilliant age that thrives,
through golden years of full maturity
between prime youth and definite old age.
Known as a womanizer, Gustav Klimt,
who many times diminished them in art,
illicitly had sired some fourteen young
with models who had often posed for him.
November 26, 2017
Premiere Contest: Klimt
Sponsor: Anthony Slausen
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"Over the years, “The Three Ages of Woman”, a remarkable painting, has ignited much controversy amongst women who view the artwork as lacking in appropriate symbolism to the enduring strength of women. Many feminists believe that the painting’s subtle message is that a woman’s most significant role in life occurs when she is a young mother."
Ref: http://www.aaronartprints.org/klimt-thethreeagesofwoman.php
https://www.austria.info/uk/things-to-do/cities-and-culture/gustav-klimt/women
Categories:
symbolist, art, how i feel,
Form:
Blank verse
PREFERENCE
the succulence
on display
arrestingly
different
a
timeless
exactitude
alongside
luscious
beauties
concoctions
of symbolist n
abstractions
simplified lines
emptily idealised
yet
authentically
expressed
& depicted
if
somewhat
in absurdity
of
an exploration
of the sensual
in
the of
conscientious
to make
a startling
masterpiece
illustrating
&
portraying
a naive
fantasy
Categories:
symbolist, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
THE LADY OF SHALOTT
mirror-images were her curse
so wove her pictures in reverse
LA BELLE ISEULT
William's 'stunner',became wife Jane
but for painting,he found no acclaim
MADONNA
Madonna's personna
a single reflection-
gives meaning to life
PAVONIA
Leighton's lovely
Italian beauty we all,can see
LONELY LASS
closing her door
in her mind-
she slowly withdraws
MAXENCE
pretty as a prescence
with her auburn looks
www.symbolistsweethearts.blogspot.com
Categories:
symbolist, art
Form:
Ekphrasis
ENTICEMENT
Allurement,in her look
come hither-Franz Stuck
JUDITH
with Judith 1
Klimt's fame had began
TEMPTATION
Temptation's face
with whispers so ofteensnare + enlace
NIMIANE
Merlin knew the future and the past
but she lulled him to sleep,so fast
DRYOPE
Alas,alas poor Hylas
trapped by love
of this beautiful lass
APRIL LOVE
Tryphena set his heart ablaze
upon her beauty each day did gaze
Leaving a portrait,us to amaze
see cartoons thereof
@www.symbolistsweethearts.blogspot.com
Categories:
symbolist, art
Form:
Ekphrasis
Art
nouveau,
symbolist
to a phalanx
show
Some of Kandiskinsky's artistic travels
Categories:
symbolist, art, places
Form:
Lanterne
CAPTIVATIONS
a radical
symbolist
extraordinary
&exceptional
absolutely
captivating
perfection
together
&
displayed
moments
with interest
to explore
parallels
where
solace
shows the
spiritual sunlight
reflected
in
experiences of
anguish
so
overwhelming
Categories:
symbolist, poetry,
Form:
Free verse
SYMBOLIST SWEETHEARTS
In looking we see and
in seeing we now will
be . As part of the art.
This pleasure evolves,
as we participate ,hear
with our eye to resolve a
mystery ; sensations symbolize,
then synthesize the illusion
into a new experience
A momentary intercourse
of minds imaged again
with perceptive intuition
by our eyes,ever to remain
indelible,unique and concrete.
Listen to me read this and others at this link
http://youtube.com/ichthyschiro
Categories:
symbolist, art, writing,
Form:
Free verse