Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen. Страница 148
Eclogues! the town laundry’s detergent phosphate
glut’s foul’d clear Snyders Creek—
I have a beautiful boy in the house,
learn keyboard notation, chords, & improvise
freely on Blake’s mantras at midnite.
Hesiod annaled Beginnings
I annal ends for No man.
Hail to the Gods, who are given Consciousness.
Hail to Men Conscious of the Gods!
Electric tempest!
Entire hillsides turned wet gold,
Leaf death’s begun, universal September
Emerges in old maples
Goat bells near the house, not much in the
garden they can eat now anyway,
& cow got beet tops and mangles already—
What do dogs hear?
Birds squeak & chatter as Rooster call
echoes round house wall
Civilization’s breaking down! Freezertray’s
lukewarm, who knows why?
The year-old Toilet’s leaking at the heel—Wind
Charger’s so feeble batteries are almost down—
Hundreds of black spotted tomatoes
waiting near the kitchen wood stove
“Useless! useless! the heavy rain driving into the sea!”
Kerouac, Cassady, Olson ash & earth, Leary the Irish
coach on the lam,
Black Magicians screaming in anger Newark to Algiers,
How many bottles & cans piled up in our garbage pail?
Fall 1970
Guru Om
October 4, 1970
Car wheels roar over freeway concrete
Night falls on Dallas, two buildings shine under sickle moon
Many boys and girls in jail for their bodies poems and bitter thoughts
My belly’s hollow breath sighs up thru my heart
Guru Om Guru Om enlarges in the vast space of the breast
The Guru has a man’s brown belly and cock long hair white beard short hair orange hat no person
The bliss alone no business for my body but to make Guru Om dwell near my heart
shall I telephone New York and tell my fellows where I am silent
shall I ring my own head & order my own voice to be silent but
How giant, silent and feather-soft is the cave of my body eyes closed
To enter the body is difficult, the belly’s full of bad smelling wind
the body’s digesting last weekend’s meat thinking of Cigarettes, bright eyes of boys
What Acid eight hours equals eight hours’ Om continuous attention—
the Guru is equal to the Om of the Seeker
Guru Guru Guru Guru Guru Guru Guru Sitaram Omkar Das Thakur thin voic’d recommended “Give up desire for children”
Dehorahava Baba sat on the Ganges and described eat & drinking pranayam
Nityananda floated thru his giant photo body
Babaji’s hand the hand of a dead man in my dead man’s fingers
Out the plane window brown gas rises to heaven’s blue sea
—how end the poetry movie in the mind?
how tell Kabir Blake & Ginsberg shut their ears?
Folded in silence invisible Guru waits to fill his body with Emptiness
I am leaving the world, I will close my eyes & rest my tongue and hand.
October 5, 1970
To look in the City without hatred
the orange moon edge sunk into blue Cloud
a second night autos roar to and fro Downtown towers’ horizon
airplane moving between moon and white-lit bank towers
lightning haze above twinkling-bulbed man city flats
It is mind-City risen particularly solid.
What elder age grew such cities visioned from these far towers’ windows
Seraph armchaired in Babylonic Deja Vu from Hilton Inn?
October 6, 1970
Dallas buildings’ heaped rock tangled steel electric lit under quarter moon
Cars crash at dusk at Mockingbird Lane, Drugstore Supermarket signs revolve with dumb beckoning persistence over North Central Freeway
Leary leaped over the wall with a sword, Errol Flynn’s in the grave, flags & bombs fly over Dallas’ stock exchange
oil flows thru the Hilton Faucets, gasoline fumes smother Neem trees in Ganeshpuri—
Maya revolves on rubber wheels, Samsara’s glass buildings light up with neon, Illusion’s doors open on aluminum hinges—
my mother should’ve done asanas & Kundalini not straightjackets & Electroshock in the birthdays of Roosevelt’s FBI—
Where in the body’s the white thumbsize subtle corpus, in the neck they say
where’s the half-thumbjoint black causal body, down in the heart hidden?
where’s the lentil-sized Cosmic Corpse, a tiny blue speck in the navel?
All beings at war in the Gross body, armor’d Cars & Napalm, rifles & grass huts burning, Mace on Wall Street, tear gas flooding the fallen stockmarket.
Look in halls of the head, nervous leg halls, universe inside Chest dark baby kingdom in the skull.
“Have You Seen This Movie?”
Old maple hairytrunks root asphalt grass marge, November branches rare leaved,
Giant woodlegged wiretowers’ threads stretch above pond woods highway, white sun fallen hills West.
Car rolling underpass, radio hornvoice “the sight of Bobby Seale bound & gagged at Trial” denied lawyer presum’d innocent?
MDA Love Drug Cure Junk Habit? Rochester Exit one mile flashing out Volkswagen window—
Blue sky fring’d with clouds’ whale-ghost-blue schools north drift—
High, high Manson sighed on Trial, how many folk in jail for grass Ask Congressman?
Highway Crash! Politics! Police! Dope! armed robbery Customary E. 10th street, no insurance possible.
—Brown deer tied neat footed dead eye horned across blue Car trunk, old folks Front seat, they’re gonna eat it!
Help! Hurrah! What’s Going on here? Samsara? Illusion? Reality?
What’re all these trailers row’d up hillside, more people? How can Lyca sleep?
Cows on Canandaigua fields lactate into rubber stainless steel plastic milk-house machinery vats ashine—
Revolutionary Suicide! Driving on Persian gasoline?
Kill Whale & ocean? Oh one American myself shits 1000 times more Chemical waste into freshwater & seas than any single Chinaman!
America Suicide Cure World Cancer! Myself included dependent on Chemicals, wheels, dollars,
metal Coke Cans Liquid propane batteries marijuana lettuce avocados cigarettes plastic pens & milkbottles—electric