All Poems
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Wildflowers And Hothouse-plants
© Henrik Johan Ibsen
"GOOD Heavens, man, what a freak of taste!
What blindness to form and feature!
The girl's no beauty, and might be placed
As a hoydenish kind of creature."
Cologne
© Paul Celan
In Kohln, a town of monks and bones,
And pavements fang'd with murderous stones
And rags, and hags, and hideous wenches;
I counted two and seventy stenches,
Night Ray
© Paul Celan
Most brightly of all burned the hair of my evening loved one:
to her I send the coffin of lightest wood.
Waves billow round it as round the bed of our dream in Rome;
it wears a white wig as I do and speaks hoarsely:
Twelve Years
© Paul Celan
The line
that remained, that
became true: . . . your
house in Paris -- become
the alterpiece of your hands.
Crystal
© Paul Celan
not on my lips look for your mouth,
not in front of the gate for the stranger,
not in the eye for the tear.
Corona
© Paul Celan
Autunm eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends.
From the nuts we shell time and we teach it to walk:
then time returns to the shell.
Death Fugue
© Paul Celan
He calls out jab deeper into the earth you lot you
others sing now and play
he grabs at teh iron in his belt he waves it his
eyes are blue
jab deper you lot with your spades you others play
on for the dance
Fourth Floor, Dawn, Up All Night Writing Letters
© Allen Ginsberg
Pigeons shake their wings on the copper church roof
out my window across the street, a bird perched on the cross
surveys the city's blue-grey clouds. Larry Rivers
'll come at 10 AM and take my picture. I'm taking
An Asphodel
© Allen Ginsberg
O dear sweet rosy
unattainable desire
...how sad, no way
to change the mad
cultivated asphodel, the
visible reality...
Transcription Of Organ Music
© Allen Ginsberg
The flower in the glass peanut bottle formerly in the
kitchen crooked to take a place in the light,
the closet door opened, because I used it before, it
kindly stayed open waiting for me, its owner.
Plutonian Ode
© Allen Ginsberg
IWhat new element before us unborn in nature? Is there
a new thing under the Sun?
At last inquisitive Whitman a modern epic, detonative,
Scientific theme
Nagasaki Days
© Allen Ginsberg
Cumulus clouds float across blue sky
over the white-walled Rockwell Corporation factory
-- am I going to stop that?
War Profit Litany
© Allen Ginsberg
To Ezra PoundThese are the names of the companies that have made
money from this war
nineteenhundredsixtyeight Annodomini fourthousand
eighty Hebraic
Psalm IV
© Allen Ginsberg
Now I'll record my secret vision, impossible sight of the face of God:
It was no dream, I lay broad waking on a fabulous couch in Harlem
having masturbated for no love, and read half naked an open book of Blake
on my lap
In The Baggage Room At Greyhound
© Allen Ginsberg
IIn the depths of the Greyhound Terminal
sitting dumbly on a baggage truck looking at the sky
waiting for the Los Angeles Express to depart
worrying about eternity over the Post Office roof in
CIA Dope Calypso
© Allen Ginsberg
In nineteen hundred forty-nine
China was won by Mao Tse-tung
Chiang Kai-shek's army ran away
They were waiting there in Thailand yesterday
Sphincter
© Allen Ginsberg
I hope my good old asshole holds out
60 years it's been mostly OK
Tho in Bolivia a fissure operation
survived the altiplano hospital--
Wild Orphan
© Allen Ginsberg
so lonely growing up among
the imaginary automobiles
and dead souls of Tarrytown
Making The Lion For All It's Got -- A Ballad
© Allen Ginsberg
A lion met America
in the road
they stared at each other
two figures on the crossroads in the desert.
