Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen - Страница 72

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under the bright oval mirror—perfect

night for sleepers to dissolve in tranquil

blackness, and rest there eight hours

—Waking to stained fingers, bitter mouth

and lung gripped by cigarette hunger,

what to do with this big toe, this arm

this eye in the starving skeleton-filled

sore horse tramcar-heated Calcutta in

Eternity—sweating and teeth rotted away—

Rilke at least could dream about lovers,

the old breast excitement and trembling belly,

is that it? And the vast starry space—

If the brain changes matter breathes

fearfully back on man—But now

the great crash of buildings and planets

breaks thru the walls of language and drowns

me under its Ganges heaviness forever.

No escape but thru Bangkok and New York death.

Skin is sufficient to be skin, that’s all

it ever could be, tho screams of pain in the kidney

make it sick of itself, a wavy dream

dying to finish its all too famous misery

—Leave immortality for another to suffer like a fool,

not get stuck in the corner of the universe

sticking morphine in the arm and eating meat.

May 22, 1963

Understand That This Is a Dream

Real as a dream

What shall I do with this great opportunity to fly?

What is the interpretation of this planet, this moon?

If I can dream that I dream / and dream anything dreamable / can I dream

I am awake / and why do that?

When I dream in a dream that I wake / up what

happens when I try to move?

I dream that I move

and the effort moves and moves

till I move / and my arm hurts

Then I wake up / dismayed / I was dreaming / I was waking

when I was dreaming still / just now.

and try to remember next time in dreams

that I am in dreaming.

And dream anything I want when I’m awaken.

When I’m in awakeness what do I desire?

I desire to fulfill my emotional belly.

My whole body my heart in my fingertips thrill with some old fulfillments.

Pages of celestial rhymes burning fire-words

unconsumable but disappear.

Arcane parchments my own and the universe the answer.

Belly to Belly and knee to knee.

The hot spurt of my body to thee to thee

old boy / dreamy Earl / you Prince of Paterson / now king of me / lost Haledon

first dream that made me take down my pants

urgently to show the cars / auto trucks / rolling down avenue hill.

That far back what do I remember / but the face of the leader of the gang

was blond / that loved me / one day on the steps of his house blocks away

all afternoon I told him about my magic Spell

I can do anything I want / palaces millions / chemistry sets / chicken coops / white horses

stables and torture basements / I inspect my naked victims

chained upside down / my fingertips thrill approval on their thighs

white hairless cheeks I may kiss all I want

at my mercy. on the racks.

I pass with my strong attendants / I am myself naked

bending down with my buttocks out

for their smacks of reproval / o the heat of desire

like shit in my asshole. The strange gang

across the street / thru the grocerystore / in the wood alley / out in the open on the corner /

Because I lied to the Dentist about that chickencoop roofing / slate stolen off his garage

by me and the boy I loved who would punish me if he knew

what I loved him.

That now I have had that boy back in another blond form

Peter Orlovsky a Chinese teenager in Bangkok ten years twenty years

Joe Army on the campus / white blond loins / my mouth hath kisses /

full of his cock / my ass burning / full of his cock

all that I do desire. In dream and awake

this handsome body mine / answered

all I desired / intimate loves / open eyed / revealed at last / clothes on the floor

Underwear the most revealing stripped off below the belly button in bed.

That’s that / yes yes / the flat cocks the red pricks the gentle pubic hair / alone with me

my magic spell. My power / what I desire alone / what after thirty years /

I got forever / after thirty years / satisfied enough with Peter / with all I wanted /

with many men I knew one generation / our sperm passing

into our mouths and bellies / beautiful when love / given.

Now the dream oldens / I olden / my hair a year long / my thirtyeight birthday approaching.

I dream I

am bald / am disappearing / the campus unrecognizable / Haledon Avenue

will be covered with neon / motels / Supermarkets / iron

the porches and woods changed when I go back / to see Earl again

He’ll be a bald / fleshy father / I could pursue him further in the garage

If there’s still a garage on the hill / on the planet / when I get back. From Asia.

If I could even remember his name or his face / or find him /

When I was ten / perhaps he exists in some form.

With a belly and a belt and an auto

Whatever his last name / I never knew / in the phonebook / the Akashic records.

I’ll write my Inspiration for all Mankind to remember,

My Idea, the secret cave / in the clothes closet / that house probably down /

Nothing to go back to / everything’s gone / only my idea

that’s disappearing / even in dreams / gray dust piles / instant annihilation

of World War II and all its stainless steel shining-mouthed cannons

much less me and my grammar school kisses / I never kissed in time /

and go on kissing in dream and out on the street / as if it were for ever.

No forever left! Even my oldest forever gone, in Bangkok, in Benares,

swept up with words and bodies / all into the brown Ganges /

passing the burning grounds and / into the police state.

My mind, my mind / you had six feet of Earth to hoe /

Why didn’t you remember and plant the seed of Law and gather the sprouts of What?

the golden blossoms of what idea? If I dream that I dream /what dream

should I dream next? Motorcycle rickshaws / parting lamp shine / little taxis / horses’ hoofs

on this Saigon midnight street. Angkor Wat ahead and the ruined city’s old Hindu faces

and there was a dream about Eternity. What should I dream when I wake?

What’s left to dream, more Chinese meat? More magic Spells? More youths to love before I change & disappear?

More dream words? This can’t go on forever. Now that I know it all /

goes whither? For now that I know I am dreaming /

What next for you Allen? Run down to the Presidents Palace full of Morphine /

the cocks crowing / in the street. / Dawn trucks / What is the question?

Do I need sleep, now that there’s light in the window?

I’ll go to sleep. Signing off until / the next idea / the moving van arrives empty

at the Doctor’s house full of Chinese furniture.

Saigon, May 31-June 1, 1963

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