Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen - Страница 78
- Предыдущая
- 78/287
- Следующая
where I was supposed to by History
Laws got confused stamped
in my passport, lost in the refugee
Station at Calcutta. It
winds in and out of space and time the
physical traveler—
Returning home at last, years later as
prophesied, “Is this the way that
I’m supposed to feel?”
with my nightmare underwear downtown
in the gray haunted midnight street
foggy Vancouver was winter
then now Summer I’ll see
Thru the clear air the great Northern Mountains
and aspire that lonely visible
Space-peak before entering the
Moils of New Frisco San York Orleans
Castro Bomb Shade Protest Shelter
Better write a letter warning against
the
Aswan Nile not seen
Peking’s Jewelry feet not Come true
Surely I’ll live to take tea in a back yard
in Kyoto and be calm!
“Make me ready—but not yet”
No I am not “ready” to die when that Choke
comes I’m afraid I’ll scream and
embarrass everybody—go out
like a coward yellow fear I done left no
Louis babies behind me Rebuke in
Those 70 year eyes and I speak of Murder
blessing him?—Alas
to be kinder except I was kind to the
Man on park bench after the Nite Club
who “schemed murders” as an
analyst for air forces.
They need conscience-stricken analysts, I’m
a conscious-stricken panelist on this
university show.
Forward March, guessing
which bullet which airplane which nausea
be the dreadful doomy last
begun while I’m still
conscious—I’ll go down and get a cold coffee at
Midnight
Siemreap, Cambodia, June 10, 1963
The Change: Kyoto–Tokyo Express
I
Black Magicians
Come home: the pink meat image
black yellow image with
ten fingers and two eyes
is gigantic already: the black
curly pubic hair, the
blind hollow stomach,
the silent soft open vagina
rare womb of new birth
cock lone and happy to be home
again
touched by hands by mouths,
by hairy lips—
Close the portals of the festival?
Open the portals to what Is,
The mattress covered with sheets,
soft pillows of skin,
long soft hair and delicate
palms along the buttocks
timidly touching,
waiting for a sign, a throb
softness of balls, rough
nipples alone in the dark
met by a weird finger;
Tears allright, and laughter
allright
I am that I am—
Closed off from this
The schemes begin, roulette,
brainwaves, bony dice,
Stroboscope motorcycles
Stereoscopic Scaly
Serpents winding thru
cloud spaces of
what is not—
“… convoluted, lunging upon
a pismire, a conflagration, a—”
II
Shit! Intestines boiling in sand fire
creep yellow brain cold sweat
earth unbalanced vomit thru
tears, snot ganglia buzzing
the Electric Snake rising hypnotic
shuffling metal-eyed coils
whirling rings within wheels
from asshole up the spine
Acid in the throat the chest
a knot trembling Swallow back
the black furry ball of the great
Fear
Oh!
The serpent in my bed pitiful
crawling unwanted babes of
snake covered with veins and pores
breathing heavy frightened love
metallic Bethlehem out the window
the lost, the lost hungry
ghosts here alive trapped
in carpet rooms How can I
be sent to Hell
with my skin and blood
Oh I remember myself so
Gasping, staring at dawn over
lower Manhattan the bridges
covered with rust, the slime
in my mouth & ass, sucking
- Предыдущая
- 78/287
- Следующая