Van Gogh & My Poem "The Surrealist Poet Of The Cafe Apollinaire as Art Exhibit"

PAINTING "STARRY NIGHT " BY POST-IMPRESSIONIST VINCENT VAN GOGH(1853-1890)
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SCULPTURE BY JOHN COLL "VAN GOGH ON THE ROAD"
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SELF-PORTRAIT VINCENT VAN GOGH (1853-1890)
POST-IMPRESSIOIST
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PAINTING BY POST-IMPRESSIOIST VINCENT VANGOGH( 1853-1890) " BRIDGE IN THE RAIN" ( AFTER THE JAPANESE STYLE)
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PAINTING " WHEATFIELD WITH CROWS" BY VINCENT VAN GOGH (1853-1890)

Above are paintings of one of my favourite artist Vincent Van Gogh
whose works are filled with such passion and an exuberance of bold colouring which was a departure from the pastel pallette of the French impressionists painters who preceded him.

See website: Vincent Van Gogh Art Gallery
WWW.vangoghgallery.com

& John Coll website
Irish artist b. 1956
( THE LIGHT BEHIND THE WRITTEN WORD)
www.kennys.ie/Exhibitions/1998/coll/exhibits

Anyway here is a poem which I first composed about a dozen years ago & has gone through several transformations to to the present version found here.

Tales Of Café Apollinaire: VARIATIONS ON DISTILLED DREAMS-

The Surrealist Poet of the Cafe Apollinaire as Art Exhibit


At Café Apollinaire the Surrealist Poet
after he & the Café had become well known
asked a sculptor to make a statue
to take the poet's place at the café
at intervals of each day
to give him some respite
a life-size mannikin with moving parts
like mechanical oversized dolls
of ancient Persia
to sit at the corner table
by the window overlooking the street
in the Café Apollinaire
with all the paraphernalia
associated with the Surrealist Poet
resembling the poet in every detail
fooling many newcomers to the café
sitting there with a cup of coffee
a cigarette which one hand lowers
to an ashtray then raises to its lips
takes a puff the head moves looking
out the window turns again
with a pen in the other hand
moving hovering above
the open note book waiting
to be written upon
surrounded by stacks of books
borrowed from the Public Library
just around the corner
of artistic movements
all those 'Isms' born
in such a brief span of time
from Impressionism to Expressionism
to Pointillism Vortexism
to the wild Fauves to Dada
to Surrealism to Cubism
to Futurists & Realists
to Photo-Realists Pop art & Folk Art
all at war with one another
all claiming to be the true voice of Modern Art
each a genius of one sort or another
all these works of Art & Music & Poetry
biographies & autobiographies
passing the time giving some solace
to the Surrealist Poet soon wears thin
no end to naive idealistic romantic poets
& artists soaring above mundane concerns
dipping pens & brushes
in the same well of inspiration-

til history intrudes upon the pastoral dreams
& fantasies of the romantic surrealist poet
opening those all too real books
opening Pandora’s Box unleashing the Furies
of the tragedy of humanity’s pride & folly
of the triumph of Tyrants & despots
Emperors & Kings & Queens
destroying in the name of God & Power & Greed
enslaving millions to perpetual poverty
as the High & Mighty rule the world
with an iron fist & the boot to the throat
of social histories & aesthetics
& the admixture of politics & history
& centuries dripping blood
& all those idealists & romantics dying for some cause
& failed revolutions & the horrors of war
& religion & science run amok
our dreams turned into a world of ashes
under ten thousand mushroom clouds
while thousands are tortured murdered
beheaded blown to pieces
strapped to the mouth of cannons
in the name of this country or that
in the name of one God or another
while the Angels look down & weep
as all these lost souls strike the drums
sound their trumpets of war
leading the Big Parade of millions
into the slaughter houses
& other persistent visions of madness
til poets & sages take refuge in the wilderness-

Now the Surrealist Poet is able to roam
about the City's streets
no longer chained to that Chair
& that Table holding court
pestered by would be poets
taken in by his self-manufactured mystique
forced to dredge the sea floor
reliving his life for their distraction
edification & inspiration fulfilling his role
of poet laureate of the oh so cool crowd
at Café Apollinaire-

So long for now,
GORD.