Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen - Страница 177

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you what you deserve

All that you wish

as on a gold dish

eyes tongue and heart

your most private part.

Why do you eat

my behind & my feet

Why do you kiss

my belly like this

Why do you go down

& suck my cock crown

when I bare you the best

that is inside my breast

I lay there reproved

aching my prick moved

But Love kissed my ear

& said nothing to fear

Put your head on my breast

There let your skull rest

Yes hug my breast, this

is my heart you can kiss

Then Love put his face

in my tenderest place

where throbbed my breast sweet

with red hot heart’s heat

There, love is our bed

There, love lay your head

There you’ll never regret

all the love you can get.

From the hair to the toes

neck & knees in repose

Take the heart that I give

Give heart that you live

Forget my sweet cock

my buttock like a rock

Come up from my thighs

Hear my heart’s own straight sighs

I myself am not queer

Tho I hold your heart dear

Tho I lie with you naked

tho my own heart has ached

breast to breast with your bare

body, yes tho I dare

hug & kiss you all night

This is straight hearts’ delight.

So bring your head up

from my loins or the cup

of my knees and behind

where you touch your lips blind

Put your lips to my heart

That is my public part

Hold me close and receive

All the love I can give

Boulder, June 18, 1977, 5 A.M.

X

PLUTONIAN ODE

(1977–1980)

What’s Dead?

Clouds’ silent shadows passing across the Sun above Teton’s mountaintop I saw on LSD

Movies dead shadows

ocean 40% dead said expert J. Cousteau A.D. 1968

Shakespeare the magician, Rimbaud visionary dead

silent vamp Alla Nazimova’s corpse-lip black dust

Walt Disney of Mickey Mouse, Buck Rogers in the Twenty-fifth Century, Hollywood lost in shade

Tragedian Sophocles passed this shore with Charon thru Styx

Ex-Emperor Napoleon obituaried in 1821

Queen Liliuokalani giv’n to her reward

Chief Joseph buried on a brown hill in Washington State

General Douglas MacArthur urged atombombs to blow up China

Eisenhower & Xerxes led armies to the grave

The Skeleton Man in 1930 Barnum & Bailey Circus’ Freakshow bony in’s coffin

The mother Cat I played with in the basement Paterson New Jersey when I was ten

with the Lindbergh baby kidnapped found in a swamp of laundry

My father’s grave writ “Answer a riddle with a stone” wet with rain in Newark

Jesus Christ & Mary for all their Assumption, dust in this world

Buddha relieved of his body, empty vehicle parked noiseless

Allah the Word in a book, or muezzin cry on a Tower

Not even Moses reached Promised Land, went down to Sheol.

Tickertape for heroes, clods of dirt for forgotten grandpas—

Television ghosts still haunt living room & bed chamber

Crooner Bing Crosby, Elvis Presley rock’n’roll Star, Groucho Marx a mustached joker, Einstein invented the universe, Naomi Ginsberg Communist Muse, Isadora Duncan dancing in diaphanous scarves

Jack Kerouac noble Poet, Jimmy Dean mystic actor, Boris Karloff the old Frankenstein,

Celebrities & Nonentities set apart, absent from their paths shadows left behind, breathing no more—

These were the musings of Buddhist student Allen Ginsberg.

Hawaii, October 16, 1977

Grim Skeleton

Grim skeleton come back & put me out of Action

looking thru the rainy window at the Church wall

yellow vapor lamped, 9 P.M. Cars hissing in street water

—woken dizzy from nicotine sleep—papers piled on my desk

myself lost in manila files of yellow faded newspaper Clippings

at last after twenty five years tapes wound thru my brain

Library of my own deeds of music tongue & oratoric yell—

Is it my heart, a cold & phlegm in my skull or radiator

Comfort cowardice that I slumber awake wrapped in Mexican

Blanket, wallet & keys on the white chair by my head.

Is it the guru of music or guru of meditation whose harsh force

I bear, makes my eyelid heavy mid afternoons, is’t Death

stealing in my breast makes me nauseous mornings, work undone

on a typewriter set like a green skull by the window

When I wake unwilling to rise & take the narcotic Times

above a soft Boiled egg and toasted English muffin daily noon?

Beauty, Truth, Revolution, what skeleton in my closet

makes me listen dumb my own skull thoughts lethargic

Gossip of Poets silenced by drunken Mussolinis every Country on Earth?

My own yatter of meditation, while I work and scream in frenzy

at my wooden desk held up by iron filedrawers stuffed w/press paper

& prophetic fake manuscripts, ears itching & scabbed w/anger

at ghost Rockefeller Brothers pay-off of CIA, am I myself the CIA

bought with acid meat & alcohol in Washington, silenced in meditation

on my own duplicity, stuck in anger at puerto rican wounded

beerdrunk fathers walking East 12th street and their thieving kids

violent screaming under my window 4 A.M.? Some Fantasy of Fame

I dreamt in adolescence Came true last week over Television,

Now homunculus I made’s out there in American streets

talking with my voice, accounted ledgered opinionated

Interviewed & Codified in Poems, books & manuscripts, whole library

shelves stacked with ambitious egohood’s thousand pages imaged

forth smart selft over half a lifetime! Who’m I now, Frankenstein

hypocrite of good Cheer whose sick-stomached Discretion’s grown

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