
What am I in the eyes of most people — a nonentity, an eccentric, or an unpleasant person — somebody who has no position in society and will never have; in short, the lowest of the low. All right, then — even if that were absolutely true, then I should one day like to show by my work what such an eccentric, such a nobody, has in his heart. That is my ambition, based less on resentment than on love in spite of everything, based more on a feeling of serenity than on passion. Though I am often in the depths of misery, there is still calmness, pure harmony and music inside me. I see paintings or drawings in the poorest cottages, in the dirtiest corners. And my mind is driven towards these things with an irresistible momentum.
— Vincent VanGogh
The simple cot in the corner is
more comfortable than it looks.
For blue collars in white coats
their quiet ways let muse creep
between the bars with afternoon
pollen, birdsong, and sunlight.
I imagine you, clear appreciative
audience in glass, watching me
watch you, smiling, despite our
faux, trapped existences; filled,
my wild brush splashes for you.
Who in their right mind paints
pretty pictures of prison? I rest
my case. We, you and I, will be
filled with, taste, our spirits again.
Dusk climbs the wall; she flees.
Keychain echoes down the hall.
The hulk in white’s silence now
menacing as he nods it’s time.
They know a madness shakes me;
digitalis tea nightcap pulls me deep.
Into green fairy flashbacks I go, to
merry tulip days and canal songs.
Note: this image is of the room at the asylum where van Gogh was allowed to set up a studio.
Top image: Vincent van Gogh, Window in the Studio (1889)
Melissa is today’s host for dVerse’ Poetics prompt. Melissa says:
And now for your poetic prompt: select one of the pieces of artwork presented in this post. Write an ekphrastic poem about the work, incorporating the emotion it evokes in you and/or the emotion evoked through the eyes of the artist. Be creative! Go wherever the art and artist take you! Feel free to use the artists’ quotations as inspiration in your work.

I reckon these lines are pretty close to what Vincent Van Gogh thought when they institutionalised him. The struggle, the confinement, the need for freedom and validation. Brilliant!
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van Gogh actually self-committed, yet the prison was in his mind, I think. Thank you for sharing your insights of this tortured artist.
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“Who in their right mind paints
pretty pictures of prison? I rest
my case. We, you and I, will be
filled with, taste, our spirits again”
– exactly!
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<3
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I almost chose this one, and I thought it was in the hospital. Your poem could definitely express what he might have felt like.
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Do you believe he committed suicide or that he was murdered? I watched a movie a few years ago that suggested he was murdered.
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I’m not sure. My husband and I were trying to remember the movie we saw (all animated from his paintings). I looked it up, too, and there are medical papers that suggest–from limited evidence–that he was shot by someone else. I don’t know if it was intentional or accidental. One source I looked at said the shot would have been difficult to self-inflict. What do you think?
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“Eternity’s Gate” is the movie postulating he was shot by someone else and didn’t get the medical care needed to survive it. “Loving Vincent” was the one that was animated from his paintings. Saw that one also and loved it. Didn’t know about the medical papers, but that seems to support the manslaughter theory. I tend to believe it wasn’t suicide but only those involved know. I’d love to see someone discover a hidden journal telling what actually transpired.
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Yes, we saw both movies, too.
Finding hidden documents would be wonderful. Who knows? Strange things like that have happened.
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This was a very powerful read for me. The last stanza especially. Made me a bit teary-eyed. Sometimes the pain of life is too much and the canals of the mind are the only welcome places, and yet they torture us so. I love your poem, Lisa.🙏🏼❤️
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Thanks much, Melissa <3
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The place of the artist is always interesting and adds a dimension to his work. He may be mad crazy but he is still talented. Love this part, delving inside the artist’s mind:
Who in their right mind paints
pretty pictures of prison? I rest
my case. We, you and I, will be
filled with, taste, our spirits again.
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Thanks much, Grace.
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Your poem prompted me to look up van Gogh on Wikipedia. While I had seen some of his paintings (mostly in pictures) and generally enjoy his work, frankly, I didn’t know about his mental disease and his time in psychiatric hospitals. This all sounds pretty sad.
It’s amazing that in spite of these circumstances van Gogh created such amazing artwork – some might say it’s because of it! And also cruel he never enjoyed any commercial success from his paintings, some which I understand today are among the world’s most valuable paintings.
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Christian, iirc his stay at the asylum was one of his most prolific periods. Since he didn’t make any $$ at selling paintings, Maslow’s hierarchy was probably in effect for him out of the asylum, i.e. worried about food/clothing/shelter. In the asylum he didn’t have to worry about them and they gave him his own studio there. It really doesn’t surprise me. From what I read he was in a much better frame of mind at that time. That’s why him suddenly suiciding doesn’t add up for me. A movie I watched awhile back theorizes he was killed by someone else and allowed to die :(
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Wow! I only know what’s in Wikipedia. It’s a bit ambiguously worded: “His depression persisted, and on 27 July 1890, Van Gogh is believed to have shot himself in the chest with a revolver, dying from his injuries two days later.”
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That movie I saw told that he was a target of bullying and was out walking and got jumped, and I think they struggled for the gun, it went off, and he went back to his room, laid down, and died (he was out of the asylum at that point and reported to be feeling mentally well.) TMBL will be to take me back there to save him.
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https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/At_Eternity%27s_Gate_(film)
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Letting the muse creep between the bars–I think that’s how he always must have felt, never fitting in anywhere–but his art anchored him no matter where he found himself. (K)
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<3 <3 <3
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Simply gorgeous, Lisa, capturing all the sensations of his artwork through Van Gogh’s eyes. A joy to read.
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~~Dora
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Dora, many thanks. I felt like I was in the room with him when I wrote it.
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Very nice! I love how you personify the window in relation to Van Gogh. The window is imprisoned in wall just like he is in the room.
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Dwight, thank you for sharing what you see in the poem. Hadn’t considered that the window is also imprisoned.
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Yes, and for every window there is a wall, keeping us in or keeping danger out!
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<3
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I like the way your poem starts with a simple statement, Lisa, and then dives into the image, with the muse creeping ‘between the bars with afternoon / pollen, birdsong, and sunlight’. I particularly love the phrase ‘filled, / my wild brush splashes for you’, and these lines are chillingly disturbing:
‘Keychain echoes down the hall.
The hulk in white’s silence now
menacing as he nods it’s time’.
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Kim thank you very much for the feedback.
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My pleasure!
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This is incredibly deep and powerful, Lisa! I especially resonate with; “I imagine you, clear appreciative audience in glass, watching me watch you, smiling, despite our faux, trapped existences; filled, my wild brush splashes for you.” ❤️❤️
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<3 Thank you, Dear Sanaa.
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The self loathing, and the insight into himself is very clear to me… who paints pretty pictures of their prison… yes indeed who does except someone with such insight.
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<3 Thank you for reading and your comment, Bjorn.
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I wonder if only artistic madmen can be so lucid.
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<3 I think so, Jane.
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A very insightful poem Li
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Sadje, thank you <3
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You’re always welcome 🙏🏼
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From the mind of the haunted artist … your ekphrastic is amazing, Lisa.
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Helen, thank you very much <3
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I feel you opened a window into Vincent’s mind here, Lisa!
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…this is lynn__ not anony”mouse” ;)
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Lynn, may be :) <3
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“Who in their right mind paints
pretty pictures of prison? ”
I think you tapped derply and lightly into the mind of the artist.
Much💛love
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Gillena, thank you very much.
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This one is really good… “Dusk climbs the wall; she flees” that is great.. the tortured artist…
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Glad you like it, Max. Thanks!
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i love the last two lines best. but i like fairies, tulips and canals.
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Thank you, Ren. The green fairy here is absinthe, a powerful alcohol that van Gogh was said to drink.
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yes, absinthe– i’m familiar with that fairy as well. lol. :)
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:) Cheers!
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This was an absolute pleasure to read. Really hit me on a deep level great reat
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Thank you, MsHazy.
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Great
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This is wonderful, Lisa! I can hear him saying your words.
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Thank you, Sara :)
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Beautiful post 🌹
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Thank you, Satyam.
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Welcome 🤗 freinds
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wow, Lisa!
this is stunning!
:D fabulous!
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Thank you :)
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“Who in their right mind paints
pretty pictures of prison?”
“They know a madness shakes me;
digitalis tea nightcap pulls me deep.”
I wonder if you are hearing any of these lines, meaning they are spoken into your inner ear whole and ready-made, and you choose what you like, throw away what you don’t, and write poems that way. If it is not so, you are very close. Bravo!
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Thanks, Donny Lee! Not sure but often it feels as if I’m just the transmitter of a story that needs to be told.
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You’re an inspired poet, no one who reads a poem like this can say otherwise, and there are ever more personal and direct ways the muse of poetry transmits stories, those that have to be told. But that doesn’t mean this poem has any less value. I’m humbled to read it.
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:) I appreciate your comment, Donny Lee. Thank you.
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