Daydreams for Ginsberg
I lie on my back at midnight
hearing the marvelous strange chime
of the clocks, and know it's mid-
night and in that instant the whole
world swims into sight for me
in the form of beautiful swarm-
ing m u t t a worlds-
everything is happening, shining
Buhudda-lands,
bhuti
blazing in faith, I know I'm
forever right & all's I got to
do (as I hear the ordinary
extant voices of ladies talking
in some kitchen at midnight
oilcloth cups of cocoa
cardore to mump the
rinnegain in his
darlin drain-) i will write
it, all the talk of the world
everywhere in this morning, leav-
ing open parentheses sections
for my own accompanying inner
thoughts-with roars of me
all brain-all world
roaring-vibrating-I put
it down, swiftly, 1,000 words
(of pages) compressed into one second
of time-I'll be long
robed & long gold haired in
the famous Greek afternoon
of some Greek City
Fame Immortal & they'll
have to find me where they find
the t h n u p f t of my
shroud bags flying
flag yagging Lucien
Midnight back in their
mouths-Gore Vidal'll
be amazed, annoyed-
my words'll be writ in gold
& preserved in libraries like
Finnegans Wake & Visions of Neal
hearing the marvelous strange chime
of the clocks, and know it's mid-
night and in that instant the whole
world swims into sight for me
in the form of beautiful swarm-
ing m u t t a worlds-
everything is happening, shining
Buhudda-lands,
bhuti
blazing in faith, I know I'm
forever right & all's I got to
do (as I hear the ordinary
extant voices of ladies talking
in some kitchen at midnight
oilcloth cups of cocoa
cardore to mump the
rinnegain in his
darlin drain-) i will write
it, all the talk of the world
everywhere in this morning, leav-
ing open parentheses sections
for my own accompanying inner
thoughts-with roars of me
all brain-all world
roaring-vibrating-I put
it down, swiftly, 1,000 words
(of pages) compressed into one second
of time-I'll be long
robed & long gold haired in
the famous Greek afternoon
of some Greek City
Fame Immortal & they'll
have to find me where they find
the t h n u p f t of my
shroud bags flying
flag yagging Lucien
Midnight back in their
mouths-Gore Vidal'll
be amazed, annoyed-
my words'll be writ in gold
& preserved in libraries like
Finnegans Wake & Visions of Neal
Jack Kerouac
well for S everything is like a tree
ReplyDeletealso thank you, i wanted to thank you before so that will first sorry then thank you for this : ) ...
who are you?
ReplyDeleteatti
ReplyDeleteWith the morning though the raging sun is yet to rise you rub your weary eyes with your cold fingers and yawn a beautiful yawn(though mostly yawns sound like one is
ReplyDeletemoaning(sexy moan) ) .The different daily sounds of the early birds singing to the dawn , sounds of old couple worn out by the world ,walking for their daily morning rituals of walking the passe morning walks and sounds of morning rung bells which is somewhat always pleasant maybe because it reminds you of your childhood when the sound of bells meant recess and you would run out to the ground to feel free .so you make your daily coffee(its addictive you know ) and pour it in your new favorite mug for your old favorite mug was broken two months ago when you had given a cup of coffee in your old favorite mug to a friend you liked but coffee was hot(ok) and it slipped right out of her hand and you had watched it as it hit the floor ,you were hurt but you kept the hurt in you .so you start drinking your coffee watching outside ,evanescent thoughts comes up and vanishes like the mist rising from the mug and you are ready for your daily work(you have done the toilet stuff already ok) .with night you reach your home(i have left out the day stuff ) tired and throw your bag on the bed and fall down on the same bad yes and look at the ceiling and wonder about the day,about the ceiling and about the life that is torn . To cook or not to cook(maybe boil a chow chow) so you boil two chow chow and eat it while watching the boring tele series and then off to bed ..you lie on your bed for another day, the night wind brings memories through open window..
also sorry for acting weird its just that i was born on that 25 of june and its just that i thought it was a happybirthday thing i was happy you know ..sorry..
A lone leaf fell off the tree ,a wild wind took her off to the distant silent hill where she watched the stars whispering to the yellow moon on how the world has fallen in a dark barren well ,every bit of light are lost somewhere and lives that live beneath feel there are none light left to see, then the wind took her to the lulling sea there she slept on the waves to the sound of the night as it sang lullaby, of tales of a beautiful world .Then with dawn she opened her eyes to the light of a red sun that rose from the sea ,she left the sea for the the forest where she grew and watched rainbow on dew drop that slide on long leaf , a lost bee flying close by perched on the blue primrose to lookout or maybe hear his counterparts. All the beauty of the world ,all the sadness she held them all...
ReplyDeletei have a weakness for what you are doing to me so i am writing
also do say hello to tree person and ayushma hai