13 Poemas de Philip Lamantia

The Islands of Africa

to Rimbaud

Two pages to a grape fable

dangles the swan of samite blood

shaping sand from thistle covered fog

Over sacred lakes of fever

(polished mouths of the vegetable frog

rolling to my iron venus)

I drop the chiseled pear

Standing in smoke filled valleys

(great domains of wingless flight

and the angel’s fleshy gun)

I stamp the houses of withering wax

Bells of siren-teeth (singing to our tomb

refusal’s last becoming)

await the approach of the incendiary children

lighting the moon-shaped beast

Every twisted river pulls down my torn-out hair

to ratless columns by the pyramid’s ghost

(watered basin of the temple stink)

and all the mud clocks in haste

draw their mermaid-feather swords

(wrapped by Dust) to nail them

into the tears of the sea-gull child

The winter web minute

flutters beneath the spider’s goblet

and the whores of all the fathers

bleed for my delight

There

on that chain of Ohlone mountains
shafts of light on a bobcat
through the thick madrones
first seen emblems that endure cupped my nine years
the great booming voice of nature
in the red bark’s sloping labyrinth
who called my name
fetishes of pebbles and tabac in a redwood pouch
secret house of bark between the branches
these lights never die whose embers glow wilder
than wilderness at the beginning of words
to catch the ring of stars
at the still point
of infinite sur-rational flight
all was bathed in red
according to the perfection of temporal mirrors
elastic time in the gape of memory
visionary recitals in the exultant spring oblivious to the sea

Blue Grace

                             crashes thru air

where Lady LSD hangs up all the floors of life for the last time

Blue Grace leans on white slime

Blue Grace weaves in & out of Lüneburg and ‘My Burial Vault’ undulates

from first hour peyote turnon

Diderot hand in hand with the Marquis de Sade

wraps himself up in a mexican serapé

at Constitution Hall, Philadelphia, 1930

Blue Grace turns into the Count of Saint-Germain

      who lives forever

            cutting up George Washington

dream of pyramid liquefactions from thighs of Versailles

Blue Grace intimidates Nevil Chamberlain

feels up Fillippo Marinetti

and other hysterics of the phallic rose

Blue Grace dressed up as automobile sperm

      My Claw of the future

      and the almond rose Rich the Vampire wears

                                            over the US Army

— flags !… Leer más

8 Poemas de Janine Pommy Vega

The Last Watch

The monk’s prayer sung bowed down in the dome
comes around ascending sound
calling far as the land reaches
Wakefulness now in the last watch —
Lord near us!
& churchbells toll no hour thrice….

dogs barking endlessly nightlong, a sign
of the ending of days, are lain down in stillness;
From my threshold of silence candlelighted I listen
alone, the flourish of wind through the trees —

dawn of grey rose, expansion of morning.… Leer más

8 Poemas de Philip Whalen

The Same Old Jazz

OK, it’s imperishable or a world as Will

& Idea, a Hindu illusion that our habits continuously

Create. Whatever I think, it

Keeps changing from bright to dark, from clear

To colored: Thus before I began to think and

So after I’ve stopped, as if it were real & I

Were its illusion

But as Jaime de Angulo said, «What’s wrong with two?»… Leer más

5 Poemas de ruth weiss

this is really real

crystal in the night-sky

last night in september

flashing blue flashing green

crystal in the night-sky

moves double-speed of stars

flashing gold flashing red

.

crystal in the night-sky

four times a star to eye

this is really real

.

this is really — real

this is here to heal

.… Leer más

3 Poemas de Mary Norbert Körte  

La monja cocinera Eddie Mae soñó que sor Mary huía con Allen Ginsberg

Los largos pasillos oscuros están bien fuertes

para haber permanecido después del

terremoto de 1906 cuando la sobrevivencia fue

calculada por el sonido que hacían las cuentas

del rosario de la madre superiora

ella soñó eso

la cocinera soñaba a las demás monjas

soñaba imposibles sueños de visiones plateadas

y sonidos océanicos en la

noche quejumbrosa

Soñar fue su misión a la que ella no podía

renunciar.… Leer más

4 Poemas de Hettie Jones

Praise

for Marie Ponsot

All praise the midweek market,
the first-of-the-season sexy zucchinis
gazing up from their crowded
boxes

All praise the cherries, their tight
red bellies, the sweet, slender stems
and the pit, ah the pit, to be nursed
in the mouth, cajoled to give up
its last sweet hold, praise

them.Leer más

Hettie Jones visual

Master Class de Hettie Jones sobre poesía (abril de 2012)



Poet Hettie Jones remembers and reads poems dedicated to Allen Ginsberg





El Proyecto Legacy en el County College of Morris (CCM) organizó un foro sobre la influyente Generación Beat, un período de tiempo en la historia literaria estadounidense que vio a los escritores romper con el paquete y desarrollar sus propias voces contraculturales.… Leer más

3 Poemas de Barbara Moraf

POEM FOR TAMARA

an odor of empty barbershops chants, making churches 

of the edges of confusion. where backyards are cluttered 

with the papery gossip of palsied vegetation sulks 

the afternoon, a mantis mutters–mournful.

overfull, oversleek, the beetles sleep–having fed.

a growth of light blasts. the rootends of cloud dangle 

dragging moody heaven.… Leer más

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