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  Jun 2018 Sethnicity
Allen Ginsberg
America I've given you all and now I'm nothing.
America two dollars and twentyseven cents January
        17, 1956.
I can't stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go **** yourself with your atom bomb.
I don't feel good don't bother me.
I won't write my poem till I'm in my right mind.
America when will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I'm sick of your insane demands.
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I
        need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not
        the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
Burroughs is in Tangiers I don't think he'll come back
        it's sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical
        joke?
I'm trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I'm doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
I haven't read the newspapers for months, everyday
        somebody goes on trial for ******.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid
        I'm not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get.
I sit in my house for days on end and stare at the roses
        in the closet.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there's going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
My psychoanalyst thinks I'm perfectly right.
I won't say the Lord's Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven't told you what you did to Uncle
        Max after he came over from Russia.

I'm addressing you.
Are you going to let your emotional life be run by
        Time Magazine?
I'm obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I slink past the corner
        candystore.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
It's always telling me about responsibility. Business-
        men are serious. Movie producers are serious.
        Everybody's serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.

Asia is rising against me.
I haven't got a chinaman's chance.
I'd better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two joints of
        marijuana millions of ******* an unpublishable
        private literature that goes 1400 miles an hour
        and twenty-five-thousand mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of
        underprivileged who live in my flowerpots
        under the light of five hundred suns.
I have abolished the whorehouses of France, Tangiers
        is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that
        I'm a Catholic.
America how can I write a holy litany in your silly
        mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as
        individual as his automobiles more so they're
        all different sexes.
America I will sell you strophes $2500 apiece $500
        down on your old strophe
America free Tom Mooney
America save the Spanish Loyalists
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven momma took me to Com-
        munist Cell meetings they sold us garbanzos a
        handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the
        speeches were free everybody was angelic and
        sentimental about the workers it was all so sin-
        cere you have no idea what a good thing the
        party was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand
        old man a real mensch Mother Bloor made me
        cry I once saw Israel Amter plain. Everybody
        must have been a spy.
America you don't really want to go to war.
America it's them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen.
        And them Russians.
The Russia wants to eat us alive. The Russia's power
        mad. She wants to take our cars from out our
        garages.
Her wants to grab Chicago. Her needs a Red Readers'
        Digest. Her wants our auto plants in Siberia.
        Him big bureaucracy running our fillingsta-
        tions.
That no good. Ugh. Him make Indians learn read.
        Him need ******* *******. Hah. Her make us
        all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from looking in
        the television set.
America is this correct?
I'd better get right down to the job.
It's true I don't want to join the Army or turn lathes
        in precision parts factories, I'm nearsighted and
        psychopathic anyway.
America I'm putting my ***** shoulder to the wheel.

                                Berkeley, January 17, 1956
Sethnicity May 2018
Things Fall Apart
As All Things Do
This universe holds the thread
and we are spinning too
Through gravity ,  
                     magnetism is key
          particularly
    mandalas      woven
  liquid                glass
       her        folded
     phalanges

Amen,
  for Food to digest
    but still met with ill repute and Infinite Jest
8 is great!
            but 9 is lucky and 10’s the best
Work with
what I have
Wait, and watch my
will I have
tricks in my vest
Not to mention a footprint proof chest
                No ego
   for eyes times 2 kNOw rest
       Elastic limbs twined by my cleaver clasp
It will be fine this too shall pass
          But Mourning desires birth hungers
and how much longer this must last?

    Awoken in my web whilst the wind whispers late
be it a lost locust or flies in my plate?
be it a dream, or not what it seems?
should I snooze sleep to continue my dream?...  


NO
  I cannot delay
Hustle and Flow
                                 Or destiny may get away
Eve in the hungry owl
rests none day
or night
but between
sustenance
and
affirmation
has become to Its diet


So man waits perched in the thick of it
may not thi s tillness be in vain
May not my Solitude leave me slain
I meditate on the overcoming Victory
in-spite of my plight
Aim my arrow high ahead
though my target out of sight
May my idioms take flight
May they reach destined site

I've laced Arrows of many colors
        for Hearts and Minds
Blood and Tears
Hit or Miss
my fingers still tremble under tension and Fears

But the only way to fly is to let it go
Things Fall Apart
but you've got to let it go.
Now Let IT Go!

My life is justice thread
                   posted in a Spider's web
               only God knows             Just us
        4
                             Tray bombs    or    Buzz cuts
               I'm just      
     to bee   or    not too       Be-long  
                                     wrapped in cocoon  
       or    
a silky pill to feed


          A Spider's Will
              Indeed
On pace we all finish this race

     ToGetHer
Too
                   “buy”
into
Becoming the blood of a different Race
That spins in Its bit’s web
                       by a single Thread
Holding onto
                    
                  Nothing
          
                               As All Things Do

Like thoughts in my mind...
  
      

                          As The Universe Grew
Dedicated to: Spiderman and Charlotte and Ittsy Bittsy and those called four eyes and TOO weird or ****, dumb, spacey, or too different. Who's love was reciprocated with hate. For Those who dared and those who don't dare for fear of failure.
This prayer was woven for you to Let go and let God (by any name)
You are what you worship and what you worship makes you more than mere ****/man.
Be the Jah you wish to see in the world!  
Suggested listening: Frou Frou - Let Go
Sethnicity Mar 2018
Pitter patter patterns ******* water on 2 Window s ills
slither slather slip purr wee wind whistles thru two tree pick s ee's
nestled tween the teeth grips silhouetted skyline
sunlit tea cups
how sweet it is 2 whittle time 4 love and space
slow settled be twin hill splits
and
mind sits
my flesh is DITHER dimpled by the thrill of it.
Inspired by @artwiculate
Word of the day : Dither

May add to this some day...
I anesthetized myself
with
fifteen pints of Olde English,
**** good health
I'm going down.

But coming round when
the pounding in my head
reminds me that
I can't be dead
is a drawback.

Yet
Olde English sounds so quaint,
believe me folks and yokels
it ain't,
the locals where I live
give
free stretchers for the
wretches
just like me.
  Mar 2018 Sethnicity
Dencio
This is not a love poem
this is an I love you do you love me like
I love you poem
do you know me like
you think you do poem
this is a would you be disappointed
if you did poem
an I have been feeling the chilling of the air
and I cant tell if it is just the fault of the season
or if you, too, are cooling
whatever heat you had for me
browning and falling and
crumbling between my fingers
like the leaves of these oak trees
in november poem
a what would I need to do to keep us warm poem
and this is also
an I may be completely mistaken poem
an it was seventy degrees today poem
this is a show me I am completely mistaken poem
Sethnicity Mar 2018
Those who choose to dig deeper
must be willing to accept the dirt as truth
and the mess as proof
The only resolve is sharing tha loot
with those who seek not to be aloof  
those who can recycle  
improve reuse
Otherwise your pursuit becomes futile and vanity in roots
That holds you trapped in a place that never bore fruit.

Like a Pirate
Tied to a ship
who's sunken into
frozen winter drifts
Yelling at everyone who passes by
Uneffected Bitter Colder Less Productive
An Ivory Tusk Burned in private on public telivision
What is gained in the retelling and redistribution of historic ills should always be measured by the need and desire to cultivate future enrichment and wisdom from the source not fashioned into a rusted sword to beheld in anger and revenge...
That is to say the value in revitalizing history is never found in giving it teeth but giving it light and understanding.
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