Claude Poems

Claude Monet

French artist Claude Monet
painted scenes from life occurring day to day.
Peace he found from his large garden pond
where paintings of 250 water lilies he spawned.

in the head of Claude Debussy

I would have liked to be in the head of Claude Debussy,
write the “afternoon prelude of a faunal”,
Or "the toy box", or "Bergamasque suite", "La mer",
be a musician, a seer, and invent new music,
I would have liked to know all the images of the gardens,

I would have liked to write for clarinet, triangle
Or the piano

Gave Claude Nod and Sent to God

we gave Claude a nod
sent his poems to friends and God
spoiled child and spared rod. 

Great things God has done
we will always love His Son
He is Holy one

with God friends would share
He and Son are quite a pair
sins are hard to bare

when we have great news
each page read then we will use
tickle and amuse

SCENOGRAPHISTA claude

SCENOGRAPHISTA 
visual
   experments
in
spatial
  constructs
arranged
     with
       meaning
curated
& holistic
in
seamless
  synthesis
of
space
in singular
stimulii
to
  the eye

Claude Monet painting

I am devastated, dumbfounded, dismayed,
These people are so stupid, or crazy,
They threw some hot soup
On a painting by Claude Monet,
These people are ridiculous, wicked,
Who will listen to them? Not me,
How can you believe what they say?
They destroy immortal works,
These people are so stupid, or crazy,
No one will defend their cause,
They’re like child killers
Who come to

Claude Frollo

For I pry my damnest
Her legs of an oyster
For they do not give way
Thy lacking in moisture 
This night of great troubles
It pains me so
My loins are aching
Her pearls glow
A beauty to behold
Her spirit roam free
I have created her cage
A fear she will never love me
To control her is to have her
An immature thought
And that

Claude Frollo

"Beata Maria, I know that I'm a righteous man."
Proud and pure, high above the common man he soared
Still young, yet master over a cathedral, his own lord
His brow focused on the high arts - alchemy, medicine and such

Lost his focus one day, it was because of her
The little gypsy girl, the witch who stole his

Claude Not a Clod Debussy

"Claude not a clod Debussy"


elle est chaude if
i could as
if

d'un faune
getting
it on

on and with 
a nymph's 
veil as if 

it was 
the most
holy holiest

grail

Reflections of Clouds Claude Monet

impression melts before our eyes-
                                                  

The Ballad of Bunnie and Claude

Author's note: This is not intentionally a historical piece, dear readers, but I thought I should probably add a bit of background info primarily for the benefit of my more international friends and colleagues on this site who may not be too familiar with the goings on of the late 2nd to mid 3rd decades

Quintains For Claude Raines

I’ve never been to Sicily, and yet
it’s always felt a part of me.  Who knows?
Another life, another alphabet?
Alongside Archimedes, jotting prose
in Agrigentum I, with each vignette,

imbibing wine, as bitter as regret,
harangued the hellene farmers, stoning crows.
That Greek me – did I tend (as now) to get
frustrated when my verse was ‘on the nose’,
all too

The Bridge At Argenteuil - With Apologies To Claude Monet

I could've gone to Holland. I could've gone to Spain.
I could've gone to Denmark. I could've gone insane,
But instead I came here, where the river mirrors life
In a fractured, dream-like way on this brilliant summer day
By the Bridge at Argenteuil.

A couple in a rowboat, a woman and a man,
In silent conversation discussing future plans,
But they’re

Drac, Wolf, Frank, and Claude

Drac, Wolf, Frank, and Claude

Bela to Lon, doubtless psychosis,
Karloff insert he needs hypnosis,
those three murmured on,
awe night till scared dawn,
Rain unseen flights for diagnosis.

2020 October 09

The Ballad of Claude Lafeet

There was an old cowboy named Claude LaFeet,
      the scourge of the western plain.
A Frenchman by birth and a man of some girth,
      he limped and carried a cane.
He had been to the 'Pen,' had put in his time,
      was

Jean-Claude Juncker's Continental System

Mr. Juncker's Continental System

Cohorts of Luxembourg, arise!
Keep the Russians from the Rhiine.
Hosts of Luxembourg, en garde,
Confine the British to the brine.
"We'll do without America,"
says Merkel with aplomb.
Warily one has to ask,
"Whose finger's on the Bomb?"
Français ou Allemand?
Que parlons-nous, messieurs?
Until this issue's settled
It's Anglais, faut de mieux.

A toast, my brave companions,
on the path we march along.
Not

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