Section: «Poems»

Verse (ancient Greek ὁ στίχος — row, structure), a term in versification used in several meanings: artistic speech organized by division into rhythmically commensurate segments; poetry in the narrow sense; in particular, it implies the properties of versification of a particular tradition ("antique verse", "Akhmatova's verse", etc.); a line of poetic text organized according to a certain rhythmic pattern ("My uncle of the most honest rules").

You Come To Me Quiet As Rain Not Yet Fallen

You come to me quiet as rain not yet fallenAfraid of how you might fail yourself yourdress seven summers old is kept openin memory of sex, smells..

© Brian Patten

Understand That This Is A Dream

Real as a dreamWhat shall I do with this great opportunity to fly?What is the interpretation of this planet, this moon?if I can dream that I dream /..

© Allen Ginsberg

Simple Lyric

When I think of her sparkling faceAnd of her body that rocked this way and that,When I think of her laughter,Her jubilance that filled me,It’s a..

© Brian Patten

And Nothing Is Ever As You Want It To Be

You lose your love for her and thenIt is her who is lost,And then it is both who are lost,And nothing is ever as perfect as you want it to be.In a..

© Brian Patten

The Lion For Real

"Soyez muette pour moi, Idole contemplative..."I came home and found a lion in my living roomRushed out on the fire escape screaming Lion! Lion!Two..

© Allen Ginsberg

Kissass

Kissass is the Part of PeaceAmerica will have to Kissass Mother EarthWhites have to Kissass blacks, for Peace & Pleasure,Only Pathway to Peace..

© Allen Ginsberg

Those Two

That tree saidI don't like that white car under me,it smells gasolineThat other tree next to it saidO you're always complainingyou're a neuroticyou..

© Allen Ginsberg

Plutonian Ode

IWhat new element before us unborn in nature? Is therea new thing under the Sun?At last inquisitive Whitman a modern epic, detonative,Scientific..

© Allen Ginsberg

Sphincter

I hope my good old asshole holds out60 years it's been mostly OKTho in Bolivia a fissure operationsurvived the altiplano hospital--a little blood, no..

© Allen Ginsberg

Velocity Of Money

I’m delighted by the velocity of money as it whistles through the windowsof Lower East SideDelighted by skyscrapers rising the old grungy apartments..

© Allen Ginsberg

Making The Lion For All It's Got -- A Ballad

I came home and found a lion in my room...[First draft of "The Lion for Real" CP 174-175]A lion met Americain the roadthey stared at each othertwo..

© Allen Ginsberg

Wild Orphan

Blandly mothertakes him strollingby railroad and by river-he's the son of the abscondedhot rod angel-and he imagines carsand rides them in his..

© Allen Ginsberg

In The Baggage Room At Greyhound

IIn the depths of the Greyhound Terminalsitting dumbly on a baggage truck looking at the skywaiting for the Los Angeles Express to departworrying..

© Allen Ginsberg

Kral Majales (King Of May)

And the Communists have nothing to offer but fat cheeks and eyeglasses andlying policemenand the Capitalists proffer Napalm and money in green..

© Allen Ginsberg

Hum Bom!

Whom bomb?We bomb'd them!Whom bomb?We bomb'd them!Whom bomb?We bomb'd them!Whom bomb?We bomb'd them!Whom bomb?We bomb you!Whom bomb?We bomb you!Whom..

© Allen Ginsberg

The Terms In Which I Think Of Reality

Reality is a questionof realizing how realthe world is already.Time is Eternity,ultimate and immovable;everyone's an angel.It's Heaven's mysteryof..

© Allen Ginsberg

Song

The weight of the worldis love.Under the burdenof solitude,under the burdenof dissatisfactionthe weight,the weight we carryis love.Who can deny?In..

© Allen Ginsberg

136 Syllables At Rocky Mountain Dharma Center

Tail turned to red sunset on a juniper crown a lone magpie cawks.Mad at Oryoki in the shrine-room -- Thistles blossomed late afternoon.Put on my..

© Allen Ginsberg

Feb. 29, 1958

Last nite I dreamed of T.S. Eliotwelcoming me to the land of dreamSofas couches fog in EnglandTea in his digs Chelsea rainbowscurtains on his..

© Allen Ginsberg

An Asphodel

O dear sweet rosyunattainable desire...how sad, no wayto change the madcultivated asphodel, thevisible reality...and skin's appallingpetals--how..

© Allen Ginsberg

In Back Of The Real

railroad yard in San JoseI wandered desolatein front of a tank factoryand sat on a benchnear the switchman's shack.A flower lay on the hay onthe..

© Allen Ginsberg

My Sad Self

To Frank O’HaraSometimes when my eyes are redI go up on top of the RCA Buildingand gaze at my world, Manhattan—my buildings, streets I’ve done feats..

© Allen Ginsberg

September On Jessore Road

Millions of babies watching the skiesBellies swollen, with big round eyesOn Jessore Road--long bamboo hutsNoplace to shit but sand channel..

© Allen Ginsberg

Sunflower Sutra

I walked on the banks of the tincan banana dock and sat down under the huge shade of a Southern Pacific locomotive to look for the sunset over the..

© Allen Ginsberg

Kaddish, Part I

Strange now to think of you, gone without corsets & eyes, while I walk onthe sunny pavement of Greenwich Village.downtown Manhattan, clear winter..

© Allen Ginsberg