Collected Poems 1947-1997 - Ginsberg Allen (книги серии онлайн .TXT) 📗
in Syracuse, none of it’s going to the poor.”
Evers’ voice the black Christmas March
“We want to be treated like Men, like human …”
Mass Arrest of Campers Outside LBJ Ranch
Aquamarine lights revolving along the highway,
night stars over L.A., exit trees,
turquoise brilliance shining on sidestreets—
Xmas Eve 1965
A Methedrine Vision in Hollywood
Here at the atomic Crack-end of Time XX Century
History swifting past horse chariot earth wheel
So I in mid-age, finished with half desire
Tranquil in my hairy body, familiar beard face,
Same fingers to pen
as twenty years ago began
scribbled Confession to fellow Beings
Americans—
Heavenly creatures,
This universe a thing of dream
substance naught & Keystone void
vibrations of symmetry Yes No
Foundation of Gold Element Atom
all the way down to the first Wave
making opposite Nothing a mirror
which begat a wave of Ladies marrying
waves of Gentlemen till I was born in 1926
in Newark, New Jersey under the sign of
sweet Gemini—
Whole universes hived upon the first
dumb Jerk
that wasn’t there—The
Only One escape from the black Not Ever
was Itself,
a extra click of Life woke
because Nothing had no hand to switch off
the Light.
The first dumb Jerk,
one wave, Forward! one way too many—
So forward got backward, & Sideways both
got there simultaneous with up
and down who got each other
Meanwhile the first Being got its non-Being
Opposite which never had to be there before
This calamity, this accident, this Goof,
this Imperceptible Sneak of Dimension,
Some Move-Push tickle, Aleph or Aum
swallowed before uttered,
one-eyed sparkle, giant glint, any tiny fart
or rose-whiff before roses were
Thought Impossible
filled every corner of Emptiness with Symmetries of
Impossible Universe with no Idea
How Come, & Opposite Possible Kosmoses assembled Doubtless—
One makes two, symmetry’s infinite touch
makes Sound bounce, light sees
waves reproduce oceans,
vibrations are red white & blue—
All like a 3 dimensional TV dream
like Science-fiction opera
sung by inexistent Gas-brains
in their N-dimensional bag,
Some what a bubble, some what dewdrop
Some what a blossom, some what lightning flash,
Some what the old Jew in the Hospital—
snap of dying fingers,
“Where did it all go?”
Made of Ideas, waves, dots, hot projectors
mirror movie screens,
Some what the Shadow cast at Radio City
Music Hall Xmas 1939
gone, gone, utterly completely gone
to a world of Snow
White and the Seven Dwarfs—
Made up of cartoon picture clouds, papier-mache
Japanese lantern stage sets strung
with moon lights, neon arc-flames,
electric switches, thunder
reverberating from phonograph record tape machine
Tin sheets of Zeus on
the Microphone jacked to gigantic Amplifiers, gauge
needle jumping, red lights warning Other
Dimensions off the overloaded public address Sound
Systems feedback thru blue void
echoing the Real of Endless Film.
Xmas 1965
Hiway Poesy: L.A.-Albuquerque-Texas-Wichita
up up and away!
we’re off, Thru America—
Heading East to San Berdoo
as West did, Nathanael,
California Radio Lady’s voice
Talking about Viet Cong—
Oh what a beautiful morning
Sung for us by Nelson Eddy
Two trailer trucks, Sunkist oranges / bright colored
piled over the sides
rolling on the road
Gray hulk of Mt. Baldy under
white misted skies
Red Square signs unfold, Texaco Shell
Harvey House tilted over the superhighway—
Afternoon Light
