“If the doors of perception were cleansed everything would appear to man as it is, infinite.”
William Blake
In Café De Flore and Les Deux Magots
I met him, an actor on an oneiric screen,
a phantom disappearing into a Rimbaud
like an atavistic Lizard King.
Parades of strangers peered through windows
to see this prophet of apocalypse from thin air
construct intrusions of fireflies in the soul
to scatter the camera’s malodorous viewing.
Like an auto-da-fé hissing sparks, or a flambeau
through a swamp, short-lived, threatening night
demons that in Blakean chambers claim abode,
he rose Eden’s loss to sing.
” -Hypocrite lecteur, -mon semblable, – mon frere!” I cry, to see my sorrow
as evidence of becoming, infinite desire in true Desire finding, the Word.
Shay’s Word Garden List–Jim Morrison is the proximate cause of the above poem, her inspiration and ours “comes from the words of the late poet and rock singer Jim Morrison,” particularly “the poetry collection ‘The Lords & The New Creatures’ and from his song lyrics”: “What we do here is to use at least 3 of the 20 words provided in an original new poem of our own. Any style, any length, any structure. Then link up and visit others. So climb aboard the blue bus and show us where you’re taking us. Enjoy.” Click here to join.
Björn Rudberg (brudberg) at dVerse’s MTB – Go French with Bref Double – where he invites us to try the poetic form “Bref Double” which has 14 lines (3 quatrains and a couplet) of flexible meter, using one of two rhyme schemes.
Dreams from a Pilgrimage 
Interesting apocalypsical
Have a good weekend
Much💛love
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Cleverly crafted, Dora! Enjoyed reading your take on the form! 👏👏
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Those sparks still shine. (K)
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There is purpose in suffering, though none of want to suffer. For one thing, there would be no art of any depth. As the man said, without the darkness, we would see no stars. I love the French lines. We all need those soul brothers and sisters to make us feel less alone in the world and to utter the heretofore unutterable for us. After all, isn’t that what poets do?
–Shay
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Yes, and music is also poetry. Many people’s only experience of it.
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This was an intriguing read. I, too, loved the French words, and especially enjoyed the “fireflies in the soul”. “Prophet of the apocalypse” and “eden’s loss to sing” are very apt – how I feel about the times we are living through.
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He was short-lived but his genius still thrives. He was ahead of his time, but his music is timeless, his sparks still shine. Love “prophet of apocalypse”.
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Permission to climb aboard your Blue Bus ~~~ you aced one of the most difficult forms I ever (attempted /failed.) Brava and Cheers.
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Dora- I love every line- what a beautiful poem.
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So wonderful to read… I love the way you describe the atmosphere.
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“..to see this prophet of apocalypse from thin air/construct intrusions of fireflies in the soul..” So well-said, and true. His lines burn and flicker out like the little bursts of firefly light in a dark meadow–very abundant then, almost gone after forty more years of pesticides and habitat loss–love the Baudelaire/Elliot reference at the end as well.
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This was excellent Dora! You projected Jim wonderfully in his lizard king persona.
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“atavistic Lizard King”!!! So great. Love the whole thing.
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Dora, I am in awe of your poetic prowess! ❤️❤️
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