"corso" poems
I ran up six flights of stairs
to my small furnished room
opened the window
and began throwing out
those things most important in life.
First to go, Truth, squealing like a fink:
"Don't! I'll tell awful things about you!"
"Oh yeah? Well, I've nothing to hide ... OUT!"
Then went God, glowering & whimpering in amazement:
"It's not my fault! I'm not the cause of it all!"
"OUT!"
Then Love, cooing bribes: "You'll never know impotency!
All the girls on Vogue covers, all yours!"
I pushed her fat *** out and screamed:
"You always end up a ******
I picked up Faith, Hope, Charity
all three clinging together:
"Without us you'll surely die!"
"With you I'm going nuts! Goodbye!"
Then Beauty ... ah, Beauty—
As I led her to the window
I told her: "You I loved best in life
... but you're a killer; Beauty kills!"
Not really meaning to drop her
I immediately ran downstairs
getting there just in time to catch her
"You saved me!" she cried
I put her down and told her: "Move on."
Went back up those six flights
went to the money
there was no money to throw out.
The only thing left in the room was Death
hiding beneath the kitchen sink:
"I'm not real!" It cried
"I'm just a rumor spread by life ... "
Laughing I threw it out, kitchen sink and all
and suddenly realized Humor
was all that was left—
All I could do with Humor was to say:
"Out the window with the window!"
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 5:33 AM UTC
Last nite I dreamed of T.S. Eliot
welcoming me to the land of dream
Sofas couches fog in England
Tea in his digs Chelsea rainbows
curtains on his windows, fog seeping in
the chimney but a nice warm house
and an incredibly sweet hooknosed
Eliot he loved me, put me up,
gave me a couch to sleep on,
conversed kindly, took me serious
asked my opinion on Mayakovsky
I read him Corso Creeley Kerouac
advised Burroughs Olson Huncke
the bearded lady in the Zoo, the
intelligent puma in Mexico City
6 chorus boys from Zanzibar
who chanted in wornout polygot
Swahili, and the rippling rythyms
of Ma Rainey and Vachel Lindsay.
On the Isle of the Queen
we had a long evening's conversation
Then he tucked me in my long
red underwear under a silken
blanket by the fire on the sofa
gave me English Hottie
and went off sadly to his bed,
Saying ah Ginsberg I am glad
to have met a fine young man like you.
At last, I woke ashamed of myself.
Is he that good and kind? Am I that great?
What's my motive dreaming his
manna? What English Department
would that impress? What failure
to be perfect prophet's made up here?
I dream of my kindness to T.S. Eliot
wanting to be a historical poet
and share in his finance of Imagery-
overambitious dream of eccentric boy.
God forbid my evil dreams come true.
Last nite I dreamed of Allen Ginsberg.
T.S. Eliot would've been ashamed of me.
3.9k
Nella Torre il silenzio era già alto.
Sussurravano i pioppi del Rio Salto.
I cavalli normanni alle lor poste
frangean la biada con rumor di croste.
Là in fondo la cavalla era, selvaggia,
nata tra i pini su la salsa spiaggia;
che nelle froge avea del mar gli spruzzi
ancora, e gli urli negli orecchi aguzzi.
Con su la greppia un gomito, da essa
era mia madre; e le dicea sommessa:
"O cavallina, cavallina storna,
che portavi colui che non ritorna;
tu capivi il suo cenno ed il suo detto!
Egli ha lasciato un figlio giovinetto;
il primo d'otto tra miei figli e figlie;
e la sua mano non toccò mai briglie.
Tu che ti senti ai fianchi l'uragano,
tu dai retta alla sua piccola mano.
Tu ch'hai nel cuore la marina brulla,
tu dai retta alla sua voce fanciulla".
La cavalla volgea la scarna testa
verso mia madre, che dicea più mesta:
"O cavallina, cavallina storna,
che portavi colui che non ritorna;
lo so, lo so, che tu l'amavi forte!
Con lui c'eri tu sola e la sua morte.
O nata in selve tra l'ondate e il vento,
tu tenesti nel cuore il tuo spavento;
sentendo lasso nella bocca il morso,
nel cuor veloce tu premesti il corso:
adagio seguitasti la tua via,
perché facesse in pace l'agonia... "
La scarna lunga testa era daccanto
al dolce viso di mia madre in pianto.
"O cavallina, cavallina storna,
che portavi colui che non ritorna;
oh! Due parole egli dové pur dire!
E tu capisci, ma non sai ridire.
Tu con le briglie sciolte tra le zampe,
con dentro gli occhi il fuoco delle vampe,
con negli orecchi l'eco degli scoppi,
seguitasti la via tra gli alti pioppi:
lo riportavi tra il morir del sole,
perché udissimo noi le sue parole".
Stava attenta la lunga testa fiera.
Mia madre l'abbracciò su la criniera
"O cavallina, cavallina storna,
portavi a casa sua chi non ritorna!
A me, chi non ritornerà più mai!
Tu fosti buona... Ma parlar non sai!
Tu non sai, poverina; altri non osa.
Oh! ma tu devi dirmi una cosa!
Tu l'hai veduto l'uomo che l'uccise:
esso t'è qui nelle pupille fise.
Chi fu? Chi è? Ti voglio dire un nome.
E tu fa cenno. Dio t'insegni, come".
Ora, i cavalli non frangean la biada:
dormian sognando il bianco della strada.
La paglia non battean con l'unghie vuote:
dormian sognando il rullo delle ruote.
Mia madre alzò nel gran silenzio un dito:
disse un nome... Sonò alto un nitrito.
3k
Questa storia d'amore che è iniziato con un incontro casuale .è cresciuto nel corso lettera per lettera scritta abiti da sposa 2014 a mano e culminata in un matrimonio costruito per dueèè uscito da un film .Un buon pazzo.romantico come vengono flick .E la fuga risultante con immagini di Fotografia Brita .altrettanto romantico.Vedere l'intera giornata svolgersi nella galleria e ancora di più su vestiti da sposa questo amore da favola .hanno un ascolto qui .
Condividi questa splendida galleria ColorsSeasonsWinterSettingsOutdoorStylesElopement
Kate ha incontrato Brad durante una tappa .Avevano chimica immediata .ma lei gli disse che se voleva continuare a crescere quello che avevano .avrebbe dovuto farloè? Ia lettera scritta a mano .Così ha fatto .Ha ottenuto la prima lettera di San Valentino 'Day .e nel corso di un movimento vestiti da sposa ( lui per la sua città ) e una quarantina di lettere .che cosa è stato messo a punto una proposta .nascosto nel codice scrittoè' Dal giorno del nostro primo incontro sono stato affascinato dala tua bellezza
.la personalità e la vostra fede .Sono stato benedetto per arrivare a sapere che in tal modo divertente e unico ** veramente sentito come l'uomo più fortunato a causa del vostro sforzo e il desiderio di conoscere me.Sono onorato che si vorrebbe perseguire vicenda mentre ancora tiene fedele a te stesso e la tua promessa.C'è stato qualcosa che ** pensato per molto tempo .Katherine Anne . "Allora .ha proposto !
Mi dà i brividi ogni volta che l'ho letto !Le parole non possono nemmeno cominciare a descrivere quanto sia speciale Kate \u0026Giorno delle nozze Brad ' stato per noi .E ' stata un'esperienza incredibile .Nick e io eravamo gli unici ospiti e ci siamo chiesti in tutto centro di Savannah e Tybee Island.E 'stata una giornata perfetta
Fotografia : Brita Fotografia | Abito da sposa : ! Wedding Angels | Cerimonia : Troup Square.Savannah | Hair \u0026 Makeup : Heather Ferguson | Bridal Shoes : Kelly e Katie | Radio Show : The Bert MostraFotografia Brita è un membro del nostro Little Black Book .Scopri come i membri sono scelti visitando la nostra pagina delle FAQ .Fotografia Brita VIEW
Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 4:25 AM UTC
I saw a bunch of poets
on a line
at the Avalon
in San Francisco
They looked so tired
So, I approached them
then stated
"you guys look beat"
but, at a closer glance
they were just ******
Allen was there
with Corso and Ferlinghetti
Bukowski was around the corner
trading his wife for cigarettes
again
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 10:25 AM UTC
Quale in notte solinga
sovra campagne inargentate ed acque,
là 've zefiro aleggia,
e mille vaghi aspetti
e ingannevoli obbietti
fingon l'ombre lontane
infra l'onde tranquille
e rami e siepi e collinette e ville;
giunta al confin del cielo,
dietro Appennino od Alpe, o del Tirreno
nell'infinito seno
scende la luna; e si scolora il mondo;
spariscon l'ombre, ed una
oscurità la valle e il monte imbruna;
orba la notte resta,
e cantando con mesta melodia,
l'estremo albor della fuggente luce,
che dinanzi gli fu duce,
saluta il carrettier dalla sua via;
tal si dilegua, e tale
lascia l'età mortale
la giovinezza. In fuga
van l'ombre e le sembianze
dei dilettosi inganni; e vengon meno
le lontane speranze,
ove s'appoggia la mortal natura.
Abbandonata, oscura
resta la vita. In lei porgendo il guardo,
cerca il confuso viatore invano
del cammin lungo che avanzar si sente
meta o ragione; e vede
ch'a sé l'umana sede,
esso a lei veramente è fatto estrano.
Troppo felice e lieta
nostra misera sorte
parve lassù, se il giovanile stato,
dove ogni ben di mille pene è frutto,
durasse tutto della vita il corso.
Troppo mite decreto
quel che sentenzia ogni animale a morte,
s'anco mezza la via
lor non si desse in pria
della terribil morte assai più dura.
D'intelletti immortali
degno trovato, estremo
di tutti i mali, ritrovar gli eterni
la vacchiezza, ove fosse
incolume il desio, la speme estinta,
secche le fonti del piacer, le pene
maggiori sempre, e non più dato il bene.
Voi, collinette e piagge,
caduto lo splendor che all'occidente
inargentava della notte il velo,
orfane ancor gran tempo
non resterete: che dall'altra parte
tosto vedrete il cielo
imbiancar novamente, e sorger l'alba:
alla qual poscia seguitando il sole,
e folgorando intorno
con le sue fiamme possenti,
di lucidi torrenti
inonderà con voi gli eterei campi.
Ma la vita mortal, poi che la bella
giovinezza sparì, non si colora
d'altra luce giammai, né d'altra aurora.
Vedova è insino al fine; ed alla notte
che l'altre etadi oscura,
segno poser gli Dei la sepoltura.
1.2k
I Am 25
Play Poem Video
With a love a madness for Shelley
Chatterton Rimbaud
and the needy-yap of my youth
has gone from ear to ear:
I HATE OLD POETMEN!
Especially old poetmen who retract
who consult other old poetmen
who speak their youth in whispers,
saying:--I did those then
but that was then
that was then--
O I would quiet old men
say to them:--I am your friend
what you once were, thru me
you'll be again--
Then at night in the confidence of their homes
rip out their apology-tongues
and steal their poems.
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 1:31 PM UTC
I turbini sollevano la polvere
sui tetti, a mulinelli, e sugli spiazzi
deserti, ove i cavalli incappucciati
annusano la terra, fermi innanzi
ai vetri luccicanti degli alberghi.
Sul corso, in faccia al mare, tu discendi
in questo giorno
or piovorno ora acceso, in cui par scatti
a sconvolgerne l'ore
uguali, strette in trama, un ritornello
di castagnette.
È il segno d'un'altra orbita: tu seguilo.
Discendi all'orizzonte che sovrasta
una tromba di piombo, alta sui gorghi,
più d'essi vagabonda: salso nembo
vorticante, soffiato dal ribelle
elemento alle nubi; fa che il passo
su la ghiaia ti scricchioli e t'inciampi
il viluppo dell'alghe: quell'istante
è forse, molto atteso, che ti scampi
dal finire il tuo viaggio, anello d'una
catena, immoto andare, oh troppo noto
delirio, Arsenio, d'immobilità...
Ascolta tra i palmizi il getto tremulo
dei violini, spento quando rotola
il tuono con un fremer di lamiera
percossa; la tempesta è dolce quando
sgorga bianca la stella di Canicola
nel cielo azzurro e lunge par la sera
ch'è prossima: se il fulmine la incide
dirama come un albero prezioso
entro la luce che s'arrosa: e il timpano
degli tzigani è il rombo silenzioso
Discendi in mezzo al buio che precipita
e muta il mezzogiorno in una notte
di globi accesi, dondolanti a riva, -
e fuori, dove un'ombra sola tiene
mare e cielo, dai gozzi sparsi palpita
l'acetilene -
finché goccia trepido
il cielo, fuma il suolo che t'abbevera,
tutto d'accanto ti sciaborda, sbattono
le tende molli, un fruscio immenso rade
la terra, giù s'afflosciano stridendo
le lanterne di carta sulle strade.
Così sperso tra i vimini e le stuoie
grondanti, giunco tu che le radici
con sé trascina, viscide, non mai
svelte, tremi di vita e ti protendi
a un vuoto risonante di lamenti
soffocati, la tesa ti ringhiotte
dell'onda antica che ti volge; e ancora
tutto che ti riprende, strada portico
mura specchi ti figge in una sola
ghiacciata moltitudine di morti,
e se un gesto ti sfiora, una parola
ti cade accanto, quello è forse, Arsenio,
nell'ora che si scioglie, il cenno d'una
vita strozzata per te sorta, e il vento
la porta con la cenere degli astri.
1.1k
Dalla tua adolescenza
fatta di lunghi brividi ai capelli
e d'usignoli infitti alle tue palme,
sgorgava la vertigine di un giglio
esalante profumo di domanda.
Ah, l'immane fatica
d'innestare il tuo fiore prodigioso
oltre i tiepidi climi delle folle
a vertici di gelo!
Avorio concretato fra le mani
d'estremi crocifissi,
ronzio di spine ad ogni polpastrello
delle morbide dita,
e dopo rose, rose di stupore,
placide nevicate d'innocenza,
variare d'onde al largo dei tuoi occhi,
fissità di pupilla,
vedovi cigni solitari al corso
dei tuoi fiumi d'amore.
973
Were your mind the soil from which words rise,
autochthonic,
filled with meaning-ment-al
ready to write asif
you exist, dear reader, and know
autochthonic
people are some different from
Gaijins, gegenes, genetical offspring of Gaia,
I imagine, gollum mud men, goy-soulish sorts,
were, once thought,
asreal as death itself, by those in the know;
but
we never know ever, ever being as it is and
this being mortality,
the act of dying,
asif we were seeds, words whispered in darkness,
come and see. Buy of me gold,
without money,
without price.
Grace, take it for granted, and grow on.
Become that which the seed demanded you to be,
when autochthonic was re
cognized as some word Nunzio Corso knew, but you
never heard of him.
Jul 10, 2019
Jul 10, 2019 at 1:57 PM UTC
O graziosa luna, io mi rammento
che, or volge l'anno, sovra questo colle
io venia pien d'angoscia a rimirarti:
e tu pendevi allor su questa selva
siccome or fai, che tutta la rischiari.
Ma nebuloso e tremulo dal pianto
che mi sorgea sul ciglio, alle mie luci
il tuo volto apparia, ché travagliosa
era mia vita: ed è, né cangia stile,
o mia diletta luna. E pur mi giova
la ricordanza, e il noverar l'etate
del mio dolore. Oh come grato occorre
nel tempo giovanil, quando ancor lungo
la speme e breve ha la memoria il corso,
il rimembrar delle passate cose,
ancor che triste, e che l'affanno duri!
683
I am rich
I’ve used my blood
like an extravagance
An archetype of oralcry
whose silence
smells of cheap wine
A poetman
become an olding messenger boy
O silver tongue of spiritus!
I whoop it up
in all my wealth
like Great Mercurio
twirling his white ribboned caduceus
in heavened air
Bathed & gowned
by the Pifs of Prophecy
Asoak in a tub of soft flashes
I step into talaria
And into my hand
the twined winged wand was wound
I sat on the toilet of an old forgotten god
and divined a message thereon
I bring it to you
in cupped hands
Mar 21, 2014
Mar 21, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
You can do it yourself Age: Something
Asiatic Asiatic, 1 item for फ़ूड and people
are looking for it; Changes have reduced
टेक्नोलॉजी Age of Employment: Some
employees in Asia are Christian, in this
रेस्पेक्ट I can sell it from the Toiled Drunk
Technologies Technologies; You can do
it yourself Age: Something Asiatic about
Asiatics, 1 item for food And people are
looking for it; Changing has reduced
technology Age of Employment: Some
employees in एशिया Christian, in this रेस्पेक्ट
I can sell it from Toiled Drunk टेक्नोलॉजीज
Technologies Listening to the water; The
same थिंग हप्पेनिंग Get a picture of the sea,
look at Mechanical पॉइंट्स and a thief more
than; Many other people are फुल Separated,
your Z: 1 DB yourself from some Christian
ones residents of Dove and Red Price
Glass Park happy 1 story फ़ूड Go? They
change the first वे New, red capabilities are
great; Jack, Jack वाटर, Water Carol,
Carol! All light wings were * Gas इमेज
Mark Mousiner to open ा Sarah Craig,
and since then, क्रेडिट totally; You do it yourself:
You हैवन'टी set your age, your age: Some Christians,
1 Paris स्नेक Red red गेम I'm happy to know
They want to go = red: यस Jack, Jack,
in many different ways
Listen to drinking water
Carol, Coro was small.
The lamp has two wings.
Mary is in Grand Select
Matrix, Travel Number
और Marcus मूस Do not do
everything
for यू Before I love you
Frequently, cervical water,
ा Picture less time
You can look like this
Signs and Thieves Motion
Only his हेड one of them
Complete address
Apart from you, you have
Set your own jade: something
Christians; 1 db of residence
Food प्राइस And durable || Happy
स्टोरी First of All Road Foods
Work; Hack, jack
Carol, Print course is everything
that is grassy? यस Touring event,
floorboards. Since a release of
syrup copy, Is the credit industry
right? Chi, Can I do it?
Unknown unknown
Member Your prize
Water, Carol, Carol! सिस्को Code
कनिटेड In the machine and half
full Machine, you have set your
age: Some Christians, are you
हैप्पी With salt? Different communities
Methods and Jack, he was Jack
Current ड्रिंक्स Number and open
number, sir, दो Do not do my dad
The same थिंग Get a picture
at sea, लू Medical point and thief
more than; Many other people are full
You have separated, your own Z:
1 DB of some Christian residents
Dove a Goch Price Glass पार्क | Happy
food 1 tell me Go? They change the first
वे New, red capabilities are great; Jack,
Jack Water Water Carol, Carol! All light
wings were * Gas as if the image =
डेस्टिनेशन Mark Mousiner to open ा
Sarah क्रैग and since then, Credit totally;
You do it yourself: You have set your age,
your age: Some Christians, 1 Paris
स्नेक Red red गेम They want to go = red: ||
यस Jack, Jack, in many different ways
Listen to drinking water
Carol, Corso was small.
The lamp has two wings.
Mary is in Grand Select
Matrix, Travel Number
और Marcus mousse, Do
नॉट दो everything for यू Before
I love यू Frequently, cervical
water, ा Picture less time
You can look like थिस Signs
and Thieves Motion
Only his हेड one of थम
Complete address
Apart from you, you have
Set your own जेड price: something
Christians; 1 db of residence
Food price And durable Happy story||
First Work on Roadbread; Hack,
Jack Carol, कोर्स Print is everything
that is grassy? यस Touring event,
Floor table सीन्स release copy ानd
syrup, Is the credit industry right?
ची Can you do that for you, Christian,
what I'm talking अबाउट Unknown
अननोन Your Water Award, Carol,
Carol! सिस्को Code knitting कोड Machine,
you have set your age: |Some Christians,
are you हैप्पी With salt? Different
कम्युनिटीज Methods and Jack, he was
जैक Current ड्रिंक्स Number and open
number, sir, दो Don't do my dad
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 2:23 PM UTC
Corso told me that
there are levels to
this [poetry] thing:
talent; genius;
Divine,
"Ok," I said
and put a gun
in my mouth,
"Wait, wait!" he said,
"What are you doing?"
"Joining the divine," I said.
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
And on that day I decided
I wasn't going to go home
Or at least not yet
And so I got in my car and drove the opposite direction and surrounded myself with books and not with the silence and solitude my house offers when no one is home
Where I sit and force myself to believe that there is nothing to do
But on that day I didn't go home
And the days after that I went on walks around neighborhoods with music drowning out all else like I was in Nirvana walking down streets nodding to old men on porches and watching trees sway in gentle breezes
And a few nights later I sat on an old swing in my back yard
And it was in that moment that I thought of you Allen
Allen Ginsberg big beat poet with Buddhist beard and round belly always smiling always there to help a friend whether it's money for Corso or a walk with Kerouac by all the locomotive sunflower days in California
Or Tangiers sipping on mint tea
Or ghats in India
Lost notebooks in Russia or was it Cuba
Oh Allen I think of you now on this summer night
Allen you would have turned 91 today isn't that crazy
The world has only gotten crazier since you left it and there are times I wish you were here because, though I never knew you, you seemed to have a lot of the answers
Like "you'll die when you die there's no use worrying about it"
And Allen wherever you are now I hope you are with Naomi and Peter and Neal and all the other angels you loved so deeply
Allen I wish I could love with half the strength you could
I wish I could see the world through your eyes or at the very least through your eyeglasses
But tonight I will have to make do with the jazz that's coming through my headphones
And the gentle summer breeze through my bedroom window
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 12:11 AM UTC
You can do आईटी yourself Age: Something
Association for Asia, 1 item for food
And people are looking for one
change has reduced technology
Employment तो do it फॉर yourself Age:
Some Works in Asia in Christians,
In a meal, Food like this. Maybe I
wrote Soldiers to get out of the little
girl and boy; and 1 change is very new
Drunken Technologies Technologies
Listening to water, short लाइट is
The same in the time as you अरे;
Have a sea इमेज, Look, like
mechanical पॉइंट्स, and the thief
ओवर; Many other people are full
You have separated, your own Z:
1 db of some Christian resident
Price Red Park Pigeon and Durable
|| Happy food storage 1 I want
Go? They first change the road
Red, new capabilities are more;
Jack,
Jack Agua! Agua! Carol, Carol!
It was a lamp wings * all your
गैस It appears that Image = destination
to open the मार्क्स Mousiner And
Sarah Craig and since,
credit Like the industry, we love you
completely; You do it yourself:
Some Christians, I'm eating food
is a good one Home for an unknown
Family IPad or good food and listening
This turns you to a unique way;
Technical Employment Water,
Carroll,
Carroll!
Yes yes
They were those चूसें तो |be
shown as a picture This happens
When it is a lost Operation of our
number machines are all thieves
And half a glow full of discipline
You have set your age, your age:
Some Christians, 1 Snake Paris
The game Red Red has heard you
I'm glad to know the community
They want to go = Red: there are
In many and different ways, Jack, Jack.
Listening to drinking
water, Carol, Corso was
small. The lamp is two
wings. Mary is in Grand
Select Matrix, Travel.
Number of Marcus
Mousse and all Do not
do your dad before i love
you Very much Water
cervical, Less time is
a picture you can do a
practice look like Michik
Signals and thieves only
end up on top of that other
people just have one
direction is complete
Apart from you, you have it
Set उप your Own Z: Some
Christians; 1 db of residential
food प्राइस Pigeon is ड्राई and
durable || Happy food storage
First of आल रोड More work;
जack, Jack
Carroll, Carroll, of course
This little print * was all
of यू what is grass? Is
हप्पेनिंग a trip, floor tray
फ्रीमॉसोरी Open and all
सिरप Since, credit industry
Is it complete?
You can do this for yourself
Age: Some Christians, what
I बात Home for an unknown
Unknown Member family
Or listen to good food and
Your रिवॉर्ड Road on the road
Water, Carol, Carroll! सिस्को's short
codes are those two कोड्स were our
मशीन thieves and हाफ full shine,
you have set your age: Some Christians,
are you happy विथ salt? Community
Different मेथड्स and jacks, jacks
Water was a कर्रिएर for drinking Small
two विंग्स the current matrix, travel
मार्क्स and the open number of sir do
नॉट do my dad
Oct 29, 2018
Oct 29, 2018 at 9:04 AM UTC
Musa, la máscara apresta,
ensaya un aire jovial
y goza y ríe en la fiesta
del Carnaval.Ríe en la danza que gira,
muestra la pierna rosada,
y suene, como una lira,
tu carcajada.Para volar más ligera
ponte dos hojas de rosa,
como hace tu compañera
la mariposa.Y que en tu boca risueña,
que se une al alegre coro,
deje la abeja porteña
su miel de oro.Únete a la mascarada,
y mientras muequea un clown
con la faz pintarrajeada
como Frank Brown;mientras Arlequín revela
que al prisma sus tintes roba
y aparece Pulchinela
con su joroba,di a Colombina la bella
lo que de ella pienso yo,
y descorcha una botella
para Pierrot.Que él te cuente cómo rima
sus amores con la Luna
y te haga un poema en una
pantomima.Da al aire la serenata,
toca el auro bandolín,
lleva un látigo de plata
para el spleen.Sé lírica y sé bizarra;
con la cítara sé griega;
o gaucha, con la guitarra
de Santos Vega.Mueve tu espléndido torso
por las calles pintorescas,
y juega y adorna el Corso
con rosas frescas.De perlas riega un tesoro
de Andrade en el regio nido,
y en la hopalanda de *****
polvo de oro.Penas y duelos olvida,
canta deleites y amores;
busca la flor de las flores
por Florida:Con la armonía te encantas
de las rimas de cristal,
y deshojas a sus plantas,
un madrigal.Piruetea, baila, inspira
versos locos y joviales;
celebre la alegre lira
los carnavales.Sus gritos y sus canciones,
sus comparsas y sus trajes,
sus perlas, tintes y encajes
y pompones.Y lleve la rauda brisa,
sonora, argentina, fresca,
¡la victoria de tu risa
funambulesca!
606
I (August)
By way of magic theaters
& Volumes of intellectual glitter
& Tragedy in the form of escalator dramas
Replaced with alcoholism and the tile floor in need of cleaning
Bulbs green and vibrant
In accompaniment of nearby mechanical ships/
I'm too spoken and the traffic has been melting against itself for the last three weeks
Doorhandles left empty of the
Torch of lost odors
& Bouquet smiles
& Petrichor thru the window facing the street
A shouting sort
And 25 cents in my back pocket
The dream I had yesterday of Bank Robbery
Solipsism
Also sexuality revealed as
The Camel's endurance
For kind people
Everyone around me in the bookshop starts vocalizing my internal scatterings
& The whole thing becomes surreal
Corso waves as I walk by
I'm afraid if what might happen on acknowledging it
Lamppost summoned and
Violent
Carpet is stained with the footsteps of people you don't want around anymore
Your gigantic ego had a hard time fitting thru the doorframe on exit
II (September)
A woman is reading a japanese book on
Windmills
Cradled by a sweater the tone of
Sunsets
The hour has devolved into silhouttes
An internal voice peaceully sings its way higher into the skull to be remembered/
The melody of September
On the verge of permanence at all times
& feeling it now!
You will never be this shy around
Orchards again,
Once the Hotels quiet down &
Autumn laurel replaces the crow of
Current conciousness
Ur journal is a series of wet shapes
Lucidly mixed with Candlewax air
Have fun transcribing Burmese papers
Or attempting Monkhood in Vermont!
III
It has been easy attending
All these social Funerals
And watching the Hospitals keep busy
As water is drained from countless fountains
Meanwhile a dog with a crooked lung is manufacturing a vivid sense of
Totality with the garden
Tongue out
Unaware of the Sun
Sep 15, 2016
Sep 15, 2016 at 9:17 AM UTC
and after a
death nightmare like that
I can't help but think of Corso's gravestone
and how much the clouds really do
mean to me
O how important
tattoos of ailed hands become.
appreciating
the flowers of May
as trees become aware
of the cold every year,
me, teary eyed on waking
and realizing
what people close to him must be going through now.
May 20, 2016
May 20, 2016 at 1:27 PM UTC
La banda de música le chasquea el lomo
para que siga dando vueltas
cloroformado bajo los antifaces
con su olor a pomo y a sudor
y su voz falsa
y sus adioses de naufragio
y su cabellera desgreñada de largas tiras de papel
que los árboles le peinan al pasar
junto al cordón de la vereda
donde las gentes
le tiran pequeños salvavidas de todos los colores
mientras las chicas
se sacan los senos de las batas
para arrojárselos a las comparsas
que espiritualizan
en un suspiro de papel de seda
su cansancio de querer ser feliz
que apenas tiene fuerzas para llegar
a la altura de las bombitas de luz eléctrica.
360
i
hey..siesta..what a way
lily will slide and sway
slink over a randy black
widow spider..
to the dark gods a prayer
spinning a sweet hop on her back..
after reinacting death throes..
paint her toes..
she sings lotus eater blues
making my soul sore through
a little ditty with no tune
i say, i love her too..
ii
i read corso´ s
friends
for the first
time
in many
years..
there is so laughter
and tears
in his economy
and so wise..
every one in there..!
some of the lines
like old friends
some just so
fresh too
gregory corso..
iii
i had the legendary
penguin
what was the no..
gens berg
ferlengetti
corso..
iv
Mar 24, 2018
Mar 24, 2018 at 10:36 AM UTC
_Poetry is seeking the answer
Joy is in knowing the answer
Death is knowing the answer_
-Gregory Corso
"Fall is here." She yawns
under ruptured sun & brief,
timid cloud; helm of elm leaf
stung to beaten bronze
and sleeves of copper - the bill
of age is paid in change of gold.
The slacking breeze slugs to cold,
slumping toward the thinning rill
whose runny fingers read my palm.
She walks into an afternoon;
I lay in morning's greening dune,
writing a city's sonnet-psalm.
In this bower hours are years,
years are lives, and lives veneers.
Oct 4, 2023
Oct 4, 2023 at 1:03 PM UTC