Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen. Страница 132

please master shove it in me a little, a little, a little,

please master sink your droor thing down my behind

& please master make me wiggle my rear to eat up the prick trunk

till my asshalfs cuddle your thighs, my back bent over,

till I’m alone sticking out, your sword stuck throbbing in me

please master pull out and slowly roll into the bottom

please master lunge it again, and withdraw to the tip

please please master fuck me again with your self, please fuck me Please

Master drive down till it hurts me the softness the

Softness please master make love to my ass, give body to center, & fuck me for good like a girl,

tenderly clasp me please master I take me to thee,

& drive in my belly your selfsame sweet heat-rood

you fingered in solitude Denver or Brooklyn or fucked in a maiden in Paris carlots

please master drive me thy vehicle, body of love dops, sweat fuck

body of tenderness, Give me your dog fuck faster

please master make me go moan on the table

Go moan O please master do fuck me like that

in your rhythm thrill-plunge & pull-back-bounce & push down

till I loosen my asshole a dog on the table yelping with terror delight to be loved

Please master call me a dog, an ass beast, a wet asshole,

& fuck me more violent, my eyes hid with your palms round my skull

& plunge down in a brutal hard lash thru soft drip-fish

& throb thru five seconds to spurt out your semen heat

over & over, bamming it in while I cry out your name I do love you

please Master.

               May 1968

A Prophecy

O Future bards

chant from skull to heart to ass

as long as language lasts

Vocalize all chords

zap all consciousness

I sing out of mind jail

in New York State

without electricity

rain on the mountain

thought fills cities

I’ll leave my body

in a thin motel

my self escapes

through unborn ears

Not my language

but a voice

chanting in patterns

survives on earth

not history’s bones

but vocal tones

Dear breaths and eyes

shine in the skies

where rockets rise

to take me home

                    May 1968

Bixby Canyon

Path crowded with thistle fern blue daisy,

               glassy grass, pale morninglory

                         scattered on a granite hill

bells clanging under gray sea cliffs,

dry brackensprout seaweed-wreathed

where bee dies in sand hollows

                         ant-swarmed above

white froth-wave glassed bay surge

               Ishvara-ripple on cave wall

                                   sea birds

                    skating wind swell,

Amor Krishna Om Phat Svaha air rumble at

                    ocean-lip

                                   Yesterday

Sand castles Neal, white plasm balls round

               jellies—

               Skeleton snaketubes & back

               nostrils’ seaweed-tail dry-wrinkled

               brown seabulb & rednailed

               cactus blossom-petal tongues—

Brownpickle saltwater tomato ball

               rubber tail Spaghettied

                         with leafmeat,

Mucus-softness crown’d Laurel thong-hat

               Father Whale gunk transparent

                         yellowleaf egg-sac sandy

               lotos-petal cast back to cold

                         watersurge.

                              Bouquet of old seaweed

on a striped blanket, kelp tentacle spread

round the prayer place

                                             Hermes silver

                         firelight spread over wave sunglare—

The Cosmic Miasma Anxiety meditating nakedman

                                   —Soft Bonepipe!

Musical Sea-knee gristlebone rubber

                    burp footswat beard ball bounce

of homosexual Shlurp ocean hish

                    Sabahadabadie Sound-limit

                                   to Evil—

Set limit, set limit, set limit to

                         oceansong?

Limit birdcries, limit the Limitless

                    in language? O Say

Can You See The Internationale

               Mental Traveller Marseillaise

          in waves of eye alteration Politics?

’Tis sweet Liberty I hymn in freeman’s sunlight

not limited to observe No Nakedness signs

          in silent bud-crowded pathways, artforms

                         of flowers limitless Ignorance—

Wet seaweed blossoms froth left, sun breathing

          giant mist under the bridge,

          gray cliffs cloud-skin haloed

               Yellow sunlight of Old

          shining on mossledge, tide foam

                    lapped in harmless gold light—

O Eyeball Brightness shimmering! Father Circle

whence we have sprung, thru thy bright