Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen - Страница 81
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voice singing to
my beloved self—
Because I do love thee
my darling, my
other, my living
bride
my friend, my old lord
of soft tender eyes—
Because I am in the
Power of life & can
do no more than
submit to the feeling
that I am the One
Lost
Seeking still seeking the
thrill—delicious
bliss in the
heart abdomen loins
& thighs
Not refusing this
38 yr. 145 lb. head
arms & feet of meat
Nor one single Whitmanic
toenail contemn
nor hair prophetic banish
to remorseless Hell,
Because wrapped with machinery
I confess my ashamed desire.
New York, 1963
Morning
Ugh! the planet screams
Doves in rusty cornice-castles peer
down on auto crossroads,
a junkey in white jacket
wavers in yellow light on
way to a negro in bed
Black smoke flowing on roofs, terrific
city coughing—
garbage can lids music over
truck whine on E. 5th St.
Ugh! I’m awake again—
dreary day ahead
what to do?—Dull letters
to be answered
an epistle to M. Duchamp
more me all day the same
clearly
Q. “Do you want to live or die?”
A. “I don’t know”
said Julius after 12 years
State Hospital
Ugh! cry negroes in Harlem
Ugh! cry License Inspectors, Building
Inspectors, Police Congressmen
Undersecretaries of Defense.
Ugh! Cries Texas Mississippi!
Ugh! Cries India
Ugh! Cries US
Well, who knows?
O flowing copious!
total Freedom! To
Do what? to blap! to
embarrass! to conjoin
Locomotive blossoms to Leafy
purple vaginas.
To be dull! ashamed! shot!
Finished! Flopped!
To say Ugh absolutely meaningless here
To be a big bore! even to
myself! Fulla shit!
Paper words! Fblup! Fizzle! Droop!
Shut your big fat mouth!
Go take a flying crap in the
rain!
Wipe your own ass! Bullshit!
You big creep! Fairy! Dopy
Daffodil! Stinky Jew!
Mr. Professor! Dirty Rat! Fart!
Honey! Darling! Sweetie pie!
Baby! Lovey! Dovey! Dearest!
My own! Buttercup! O Beautiful!
Doll! Snookums! Go fuck
yourself,
everybody Ginsberg!
And when you’ve exhausted
that, go forward?
Where? kiss my ass!
O Love, my mouth against
a black policeman’s breast.
New York, 1963
Waking in New York
I
I place my hand before my beard with awe
and stare thru open-uncurtain window
rooftop rose-blue sky thru
which small dawn clouds ride
rattle against the pane,
lying on a thick carpet matted floor
at last in repose on pillows my knees
bent beneath brown himalayan blanket, soft—
fingers atremble to pen, cramp
pressure diddling the page white
San Francisco notebook—
And here am on the sixth floor cold
March 5th Street old building plaster
apartments in ruin, super he drunk
with baritone radio AM nose-sex
Oh New York, oh Now our bird
flying past glass window Chirp
—our life together here
smoke of tenement chimney pots dawn haze
passing thru wind soar Sirs—
How shall we greet Thee this Springtime oh Lords—?
What gifts give ourselves, what police fear
stop searched in late streets
Rockefeller Frisk No-Knock break down
my iron white-painted door?
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