It began as the GODFATHER OF MATH, evolved into the GOODFATHER OF MATH. Now this. Go figure...

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The kind of humor I like is the thing that makes me laugh for five seconds and think for ten minutes = G. CARLIN...Stain glass, engraved glass, frosted glass
–give me plain glass = JOHN FOWLES ... Music is the mathematics of the gods=PYTHAGORAS ... Nothing is more fluid than language = R. L. SWIHART
I cannot live without the oxygen of laughter = DAWN POWELL ... !!! ... But laughter cannot survive without the hydrogen of gravitas = PAUL OLIVERIO
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Friday, April 3, 2015

Mr. CarPeo's 37th Dream

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  So much more hungry than either him or her
  I yearned for a taste of iambic pentameter

  I went to the Poetry And Polenta Cafe
  From  a woodblock stage, someone did say

"On with the show, we must go
  Now presenting...Artie Rimbow"
  
  He wore a beret from head to toe

  Houselights dimmed to lower than midnight
  When the wool-covered poet began to recite

Let it come, let it come,
the time that one can fall in love with!

I've been patient so long
that I'm forever forgetting.
Fear and suffering
have departed for the skies.
And an unwholesome thirst
darkens my veins.
Let it come, let it come,
the time that one can fall in love with!

Like the meadow
consigned to oblivion,
grown and blossoming
with incense and darnels,
amid the fierce buzzing
of the filthy flies.

Let it come, let it come,
the time that one can fall in love with!
********************

 Then I woke and began to edit
 Hoping for this poem, I could take credit

 Thinking "Artie Rimbow" was a complete fiction
 I love when things are contrary to contradiction

 I dreamt a scene about absurd youth
 But what follows is absolute truth.

 The poem was written in ≈ 1873  by  Arthur Rimbaud    

 In French, the title was Chanson de la plus haute tour  
(Song of the Highest Tower)

 I handtyped the poem from my dog-eared, rain-stained
(but hardly read) copy of this book.








  













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3 comments:

  1. Why didn't you simply give the entire page
    to nothing but the Arthur Rimbaud poem?

    ReplyDelete
  2. Sometimes, for me, simplicity is an impossibilty.

    Maybe if Mrs. CarPeo had sent me the poem
    but she is sleeping soundly at this hour.

    ReplyDelete
  3. The correct pronunciation of the first syllable
    of Arthur's surname: it rhymes with Prom.

    The second syllable is Bow, as in
    Bow and Arrow.

    ReplyDelete