We stood on the shores of forever.
The transient waves
lapping at the Cliffside
Grinding granite
to bare sand and
granting mysticism to
Perception.
Grand piano typebars snicking
to the roar of bonfires
burning the taste buds off our fingers
Our tongues busy in rituals
gifting freedom from base function
to commune with Passion.
Newfound Oldschoolism
stuttering confidence
and alcohol imbibed clarity
screaming Ginsberg at Apathy so that sand might best stone
Spinning dizzily
in Rockland in Moloch in Purgatory
Dying vicariously under the table
while illiterate Jazz read
our right accusatory
for falsifying veracity
Sitting in jail cells in
San Francisco for setting
the sky aflame.
And it is aflame.
Inmates burning with
unspoken tomes spoken
Who in madness spun truth
in whipped tongues, begging
for something worthy of Censure.
Who Rapture took under wing
and proclaimed “Child!”
Who ripped open the sky
to play with father time
while mother earth ran green
in envy.
Who were acquitted on appeal
to dance in the moonlight on the
shore once more together,
Who found lust skipping stones alone
and welcomed her to join us
Hedonists wearing it like a
badge on bare underbellies
rubbing orgied in reverence
Running fingers through coarse
hair windblown and sparking
with electric sensation.
Exploring, pioneering
quivering legs and chests
beneath and atop us.
Inventing love while sinking
quickly in slow sands
while smooth hands grasped
for the fleeting finite
Whispering sweet everythings
without words for they
would be wasted here.
Pulling needy lips away
to idealize Communism
as Bourgeois swine wallowing
in prosperity and sweat
of our nightly deeds.
Complaining of lost chances
and brevity of copulation
when we’ve defeated the bedsprings
and Fantasizing of the bed, car,
floor, park, studio, and once
on the hood for good measure
Forsaking sleep to defy
the mandate of the setting moon
Praising the glinting ******
of Adonis and Aphrodite
in mutual longing
as the sun blinked into
existence through the window
until in merry acquiescence we
dozed, dreaming
we had set San Francisco aflame
and lit our cigarettes on its
embers,
While we slipped little squares
under our tongues and GoldenGatePark
turned alive and welcoming;
Gleeful mourning at the loss of self
at the University
Rambling on about enlightenment
full of pretentious humility
Establishing Anarchy in our veins
so we might be closer to god
And god lives right there
in the shack atop that
hill, handing out nature
to the masses
sitting on benches, fried to comprehension.
Proclaiming that the world
was bleeding glory to bewildered
passers-by.
Breathing in fog and smoke
to join oblivion quickly
Bumping Kerouac’s ashes in
the selfsame alley
Piling intoxicants to run sleepless
through the streets
wild-eyed
Dragged out of gutters
covered in nothing
the morning after
finding our clothes
draping streetlamps
and leaving them
in testament.
Yearning for that heavenly connection
and finding it
together.
Scaling the walls of
the mind to
find mountains at
the summit and
climbed those too
and clamored past
the clouds
and the stars until
We found worth at the edge
of the universe.
20 September 2010
Copyright 2010 @ Tyler Ryan Rodriguez