An Ode to Rimbaud
Encountering the work of the poet
My sister was in her twelfth and the board had changed the syllabus a few days ago. She belonged to the first batch and our syllabus was finally revived from the primitive format. I first stumbled upon the 'Boy Poet' and read his remarkable poem on the futility of war. How an innocent life was lost to the politics and violence all around. I was getting through a tough time. He somehow opened doors to reach out to the greater world and I found myself pulling off poetry which was never my forte. For once I realised that there was no need for classical methods or special words to write poetry. It comes naturally with or without elegance. I suddenly felt the rebel making it's way out of me and I was never the same again. A poem in the honour of the one who helped me write them in the first place.
Ode to Rimbaud
An Ode to my favourite boy poet.
May your life inspire the creative lore,
Bringing mirth to rebels while finding the shore;
Reclusive of romantic etiquette.
In despair and joy;
Your lines emerged to be free.
Chaos reigned after years of poetic decree.
And, I cried, Ahoy!
The emotions are infinite, the thoughts untamed.
Works survive, while the throne lies unclaimed.