by phillipw | Oct 15, 2019 | RI, VE
Romances sans la Pitié Uncertain like a compass suffering pull From two strong poles, or like a planet near Two tugging stars, Paul mirrored a saint full Of doubt while standing on the streets of sheer Bright gold in heaven but consumed by lust To fall to hellfire...
by phillipw | Oct 15, 2019 | RI, VE
A Detrimental Adulation (with Apologies to Verlaine) So Rimbaud gets the credit, no matter What. Paul accomplishes what no one’s done Before in verses, but Rimbaud’s splatter On paper, like results from a spray gun That spews out vomit from the chewed up...
by phillipw | Oct 15, 2019 | RI, VE
Paroles sans Romances What kept you from a votive candle to That poet? Having him beside you for Two years almost, abandoning the coup You failed as wilting communard in war By running off with genius that could match Or conquer even more than yours, you flunked Your...
by phillipw | Oct 15, 2019 | VE
The Drunken Butterfly This man, a stinkfly, could not stay, never Stayed. Paul insisted, “Non, je reste,” but such Was not possible. He was forever Flitting, changing, on the run. He was much Too much like his uncertain words and lines He wrote in poetry, for...
by phillipw | Oct 14, 2019 | RI, VE
The Genius, l’enfant terrible “that inability to look before or after” ~ Arthur Symons Paul held this genius greater than the size His poet lover had. Paul’s larger gift, A knack for living in tight blinks of eyes, Ignoring past and future, made each rift...
by phillipw | Oct 14, 2019 | RI, VE
Sacrificial Investments “In exile, life was a stage where literature’s masterpieces were played out,” the poet wrote in “Illuminations,” several years before moving to Harar. “I could share untold riches that remain unknown.” ...
