Tag Archives: poetry

Read-along-Review: Howl by Allen Ginsburg

Part I

Punctuation is a thing for a reason Allen.

“illuminating all the motionless world of Time between”

“who threw their watches off the roof to cast their ballot for Eternity outside of Time, & alarm clocks fell on their heads every day for the next decade,”

“who were burned alive in their innocent flannel suits on Madison Avenue amid blasts of leaden verse & the tanked-up clatter of the iron regiments of fashion & the nitroglycerine shrieks of the fairies of advertising & the mustard gas of sinister intelligent editors, or were run down by the drunken taxicabs of Absolute Reality,”

This is poetry of the senses, plural specific. Your intellect is appealed to, as is your emotion, but as too are your senses, your very body – not just with the sights and sounds and feelings described but the way that they are written, the alliteration and deliberate word choice, the run on of sentences so perfectly sculpted around voice and tone and emotion, and breath. That’s the important bit, it forces your whole body to join in with the poem, not just your heart and mind.

“who dreamt and made incarnate gaps in Time & Space through images juxtaposed, and trapped the archangel of the soul between 2 visual images and joined the elemental verbs and set the noun and dash of consciousness together jumping with sensation of Pater Omnipotens Aeterna Deus”

I love the obsession with time, as I would anywhere else, is play with it though, particularly eccentric and graphic, is inspiring. Also, the personification of various concepts done expertly.

II

Metropolis is apparently created by Ginsberg as an inspiration for this section, inc. Meloch, a fantastic film and well worth a watch, even with breaks – it feels like eternity as it’s a silent b&w film.

Definitely nowhere near as good as Part I

III

 “where the faculties of the skull no longer admit the worms of the senses”

Footnote to Howl

Yeah, nope, none of the rest of this is as astoundingly brilliant as Part I

 

Ft. image a quick sketch I did inspired by this piece, I will return to it another day

London Stands.

If you wanted to disrupt the state of this state,
You will find that you’ve made a grave mistake
You have picked a nation that has pride
And you will not decide when we divide.

We are a nation standing proud, laughing loud,
Gathering around and holding hands.
The sound of crowds rings out as we shout
That we are not afraid, and we will not be played.

We are the kind of people to drink tea and unite
Rather than lose ourselves in a fight with ourselves.
You will not terrorise us into demonising
Those that we live and love with.

We are the kind of people to run towards
Not hide, holding out our arms open wide.
London stands and its people stand with it-
All creeds, all colours, all kinds- Side by side.

 

 

Fragment.wp #3

Ever feel like an outsider in your own skin,
Like everything around you has a way of crawling in,
And ripping from your flesh, pulling thread from bone,
Hollows out your heart, and builds itself a home?

Worry-Doll

Crystal glass terrarium,
soft, smooth, glide, prove.

Inside, a male & female pair,
Dolls with whom this glass cave I share.

Performing for them everyday, ironic,
Encouraging breaking, reaching out.

And on my knees, head bowed I pray,
Learning whatever lesson it is today.

Punching, punching hard, on glass walls.
Punching my way out, for them.

Breaking free like shadow out of sun,
Like sun out of clouds, rushing air out of glass.

Shock wave force from out my heart,
Shatters the smooth glass cage I’m in.

That air, once trapped, now free,
Out I go flying, singing, “Follow me.”

Out I go, like kite in air,
but no string to reel me back again.

There, they sit and stare. Achieved
what they said, not wanted.

Aim and aspiration as lines to stay inside,
As safe space, not pathway to another place.

Crumble inwards little pair, separate and fall.
No longer are those walls so safe,

Nor comforting to little minds, I’m sure.
Come fly, fly free, but do not follow me.

Never-ending little space fractured by the power,
that you nurtured (unknowing, unwanted) in me.

This was not what you expected, for me,
To rise to such heights as to finally be free,

And wanted, and strong, and, well, me.
But in you go, and in you stay,

So crumple, little worry-dolls,
And no more think of me.

 

Continue reading

Mezzanine

Warm hand upon my back,
As beneath my arms,
Upon which my head rests,
The emery board granite sits,
Sprayed, as I, by gusts of sea,
Mingled, lost, in the tears upon my face.

Pretty bird, small, hops on,
White painted panels,
Of a holiday shack,
By our promenade.
Light blue surrounds my bird;
Towels and flags, deck chair fabric.
Hopping little creature,
In a sea of its own.

Hide and seek played in,
Great woods of pine,
and bracken. Tall, and gone.
We never meant for it to end.
An endless time, joyful,
Spent together in love.

Crashing, cliche, but true,
Breakers crash on the wall.
Shore submerged, sinking,
and suffocated below.
Else the wind gusts, no respite,
Cold, but needed.

Held in but one hand,
I squeezed and squeezed,
Pressing nails into skin,
Leaving marks upon palm,
That would die off only hours later.
The bird died quicker.

Blue tit, great tit, wagtail,
I can’t decide.
Whichever one, it was not wise,
For now, I have nothing left,
But memories of those shifting sands,
And lies.

 

 

Continue reading

Ad Hitlerum; ‘Prose-poetry’-only version

The people of said nations respond;

“But it’s your fault [the gov], we voted you in but its your fault these countries are like this you keep doing the wrong thing like you do to our doctors, you keep stealing what they need like you do with our students and firemen and police, and you keep taking for you and not helping these people to fix their country their countries are broken we employ you to fix them fix them fix us fix it.”

“You voted us in, we’re doing our best we don’t understand how to get them to stop we know it’s annoying but it’s like they can’t help it, we can help it here we don’t know why they can’t, please help us, we’re sinking we’re trying please help us.”

“You did this didn’t you on purpose didn’t you we knew it you bastards you always screw us screw them screw up, screw up for everyone but yourselves and we see you now and we’re going to hold cardboard made in factories in tAiwan shipped over by the Chinese in boats made in ‘africa’ running on oil from Iraq and Saudi Arabia which seems to be doing ok so it’s ok, and we’re going to write on this cardboard with pens made from hazardous material that will pollute the water earth air for generations to come that were made in China risking the lives of thousands so we can have pretty colours, and we’re going to hold these up above our heads these things we make to tell you you’re failing you’re doing it wrong.

But no.

We don’t know what else to do.

You do though right?

And that’s why we’ll tell you through petitions online made on computers that contain poisons and degrade over millions of years and we go through millions a year because that’s our life now because we can’t look at our own world because to look is depressing because death and destruction and we know we’re responsible but we don’t know how to fix it we don’t know where we went wrong please help us.

You can fix it right?”

Ironic marketing of the Full Piece