Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen (книги серии онлайн .TXT) 📗

Galilee Shore

With the blue-dark dome old-starred at night, green boat-lights purring over water,

a faraway necklace of cliff-top Syrian electrics,

bells ashore, music from a juke-box trumpeted,

shadow of death against my left breast prest

—cigarette, match-flare, skull wetting its lips—

Fisherman-nets over wood walls, light wind in dead willow branch

on a grassy bank—the saxophone relaxed and brutal, silver horns echo—

Was there a man named Solomon? Peter walked here? Christ on this sweet water?

Blessings on thee Peacemaker!

                    English spoken

on the street bearded Jews’ sandals & Arab white head cloth—

the silence between Hebrew and Arabic—

the thrill of the first Hashish in a holy land—

Over hill down the valley in a blue bus, past Cana no weddings—

I have no name I wander in a nameless countryside—

young boys all at the movies seeing a great Western—

art gallery closed, pipe razor & tobacco on the floor.

To touch the beard of Martin Buber

to watch a skull faced Gershom Scholem lace his shoes

to pronounce Capernaum’s name & see stone doors of a tomb

to be meek, alone, beside a big dark lake at night—

to pass thru Nazareth dusty afternoon, and smell the urine down near Mary’s well

to watch the orange moon peep over Syria, weird promise—

to wait beside Galilee—night with Orion, lightning, negro voices, Burger’s

Disease, a glass of lemon tea—feel my left hand on my shaved chin—

all you have to do is suffer the metaphysical pain of dying.

Art is just a shadow, like cows or tea—

keep the future open, make no dates it’s all here

with moonrise and soft music on phonograph memory—

Just think how amazing! someone getting up and walking on the water.

Tiberias, October 1961

Stotras to Kali Destroyer of Illusions

O Statue of Liberty Spouse of Europa Destroyer of Past Present Future

They who recite this Anthem issuing from empty skulls the stars & stripes

certainly makes a noise on the radio beauteous with the twilight

should one skinny Peruvian only spell your name right O thou who

hast formidable eyebrows of spiritual money & beareth United Nations in your hair

such Peruvian becomes higher Jaweh charming countless moviestars with disappearing eyes

O republic female mouth from which two politics trickle they who recite

the name thy 28th star OMAHA subjugate hungry ghost-hoards ascreech under Gold Reserve

O fortress America Guardian Blueprint who in thy nether right hand hangs a bathroom

in thy nether left the corpse of Edgar Poe in front right hand hanging the skull

of Roosevelt with gray eyeballs & left hand George Washington his tongue hanging out like a fish

Your huge goddess eye looming over his severed head your bottomless throat open

with great machinery roars inside teeth made of white radios & mountainous red tongue

licking vast bubbles of atomic gum left eye rolled to gray heavens above Dewline

right eye staring into magic engine wheels hissing with railroad steam

arm after arm snaking into place in aether battleships dangling from one hand to another

the black corpse Thelonious Monk the flayed skin of Gertrude Stein held down

fluttering over the gaping Yoni, hands reaching out to honk all the horns of Broadway

William Randolph Hearst’s bones circled in mystic ring on third toe & breast hung

with newspapers shining with Earl Browder’s cancer the 1964 Elections flapping in her left

nostril if you sneeze you’ll destroy the western hemisphere right Vajra hand

playing mah-jongg with her astrolabes it keeps her mind occupied especially with rhythmic

breathing exercises & interpretive dancing one foot goddesslike on the corpse of Uncle Sam

Top hand bearing the Telephone nobody’s on the other end she’s talking to herself

because when the ear gets disconnected from the brain you still hear noise

but who remembers what it means somebody else will pay the bill as fast as it takes

for vultures to clean up a corpse at Tower of Silence That will be five minutes and

extra charges if you go on talking the eleventh hand presenting an electric chair

twelfth hand in the mudra of Foreign Aid and thirteenth palm closed in sign of Disarmament

O Freedom with gaping mouth full of Cops whose throat is adorned with skulls of Rosenbergs

whose breasts spurt Jazz into the robot faces of thy worshippers grant that recitation

of this Hymn will bring them abiding protection money & dance in White House

for even a dope sees Eternity who meditates on thee raimented with Space crosseyed

creatrix of Modernity whose waist is beauteous with a belt of numberless Indian scalps

mixed with negro teeth Who on the breast of James Dean in the vast bedroom of Forest Lawn

Cemetery enjoyest the great Passion of Jesus Christ or seated on the bone-yard ground

strewn with the flesh of Lumumba haunted by the female shoes of Khrushchev & Stevenson’s long red tongue

enjoyest the worship of spies & endless devotions intoned by mustached radio announcers

If by night thy devotee naked with long weird hair sit in the park & recite this Hymn

while his full breasted girl fills his lap with provincial kisses and meditates on Thee

Such such a one dwells in the land the supreme politician & knows Thy mystery

O Wife of China should thy patriot recite thy anthem & China’s cut-up & mixed together

with that of Russia Thy elephant-headed infant mighty in all future worlds

& meditate one year with knowledge of thy mystic copulation with China this next age

Then such knower will delight in secret weapon official Intelligence kodaked in his telegraphic brain

Home of the Brave thou gavest birth to the Steel Age before the Hydrogen Age the

Cobalt Age earning power over entire planets all futurity Male-female spouse of the solar system

Ah me why then shall I not prophesy glorious truths for Thee Ah me folks worship many other

countries beside you they are brainwashed but I of my own uncontrollable lust for you

lay my hands on your Independence enter your very Constitution my head absorbed in the lips of your

Bill of Rights O Liberty whose bliss is union with each individual citizen intercourse

Alaskan Oklahoman New Jerseyesque dreaming of embraces even Indonesian Vietnamese & those Congolese

O Liberty Imagewife of Mankind of thy Mercy show thy favor toward each me everywhere helpless

before thy manifest Destiny by grace may I never be reborn American I and all I’s

neither Russian Peruvian nor Chinese Jew never again reincarnate outside Thee Mother

Democracy O Formless One take me beyond Images & reproductions spouse beyond disunion

absorbed in my own non-Duality which art Thou.

He O mother American Democracy who in the cremation ground of nations with disheveled hair in sweat of intensity meditates on thee

And makes over his pubic hair to thee in poetry or electrical engineering he alone knows thy Cosmic You-Me.

O America whoever on Tuesday at midnite utters This My Country ’Tis of Thee in the basement men’s room

of the Empire State Building becomes a Poet Lord of Earth and goes mounted on Elephants

to conquer Maya the Cold War whoever recites this my country ’tis of thee with the least halfhearted

conviction he becomes himself Big Business & Giant Unions flowing with production and is after

death father of his country which is the Universe itself and will at night in union with Thee