A homage to beat writing inspired by nonchalant sex,
idle chemical romances and boozed up house parties (otherwise known as
university)
WARNINGS CONTAINS STRONG ADULT THEMES AND LANGUAGE
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed
by education,
half starved on beans and booze rations,
who passed through universities with LDN dreams,
and their dad’s Amex’s
hallucinating working class veneers,
wearing down trodden connotations.
Expelled from the college blocks and uni’s
by the scholars of war and Marx,
in their crazed cotton shirts and up-turned eyes
installing obscene odes on the windows of the skull.
I saw the truth of the night
light up the small town secrets,
explode the dreams of teenage years
as the moon shone rays of ghost blue
cloaked in radical new signs,
of life hidden beneath the high street and mortgage brokers.
Scrambled remains of Spiders cover the lofts of pigeons breasts
writing obscene notes and obscure letters
twelve feet high across the hearts of their friends.
I saw them escaping their mothers with hard drugs;
their fathers with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock.
Whole intellects discarded
in total abandon to Sambuca and bong rounds.
Bone-grindings and migraines of China
under poison withdrawal.
In the austere foul-mouths of bleak student rooms,
A silent reminder of a monochrome Dylan, hung
framed with coloured muslin, saris and silver wall-hangings filtering light from tea.
Floor’s and walls cracked deep with polished sheen
where the light bounced and sparked alight the colours
picking out the sequins on the Indian beading
which hung like stoned eyelids from floor to ceiling,
blocking the paths and parked cars from interior ideas of separatism
by those who howled on their knees on their way from remedies and were
dragged from the roofs by day-glo cops
Who stopped them from waving their genitals and essay scripts.
Who? let themselves be fu***d in the ass by saintly
professors and sanctimonious governments, and money lenders.
Who? screamed with joy, and blew their noses and minds and were blown by those human seraphim:
the sailors and surfers with caresses of Atlantic love.
who? balled in the morning of house party evenings,
in the rose gardens and on the grass
of public parks and cemeteries
scattering their semen freely to whomever.
Who? capitulated to boys from across violent seas,
or hunted for cnut
in unbridled mansions and pick-up joints and bus shelters,
Warmed with cider bottles and packs of baccy
and crawled along the floors and down the halls
lined with nameless and blank faces,
and ended up fainting on the beds - falling silent under coats, in jean pajamas
with a vision of ultimate love like stigmatated martyrs with
come to bed glares eluding the last gyzym of consciousness
as couples copulate in corners
and drunks recite lines from others' stories
and dopers smile at powdered ants with reptile eyes as they
sniff and sup with ecstatic glee,
from emptying bottles of generic liquid tanned with coca-cola.
As mini dreams reveal their twists and pre-packaged expectations insist
Till idle minds find the sweetened snatches
of inebriated false eye-lashes and stuck on talons
of emaciated daughters of lawyers searching for freedom,
teetering on last week's fashions.
Of emancipated druggers with ten bag habits reaching for the pen
trying to outwit the sword with silver plates of brown tar meals,
whilst studying visions of Caesar’s meals.
Of milk thighed virgins and bald arsed slaves to Rufus Wainwright
As Peggy Lee and guitars and dance music blared.
Many sons stiffened, and bottle blondes trembled,
their sweet honeyed cheeks flushed with brushes of sun
rejected yet ready to be confection again
to recreate the syntax and measure the floods of poor human remains.
Until
to stand, with one hand waving free,
you’re speechless and intelligent and jobless and shaking with shame.
This poem was begged, borrowed and inspired by
the Allen Ginsberg poem ‘Howl’ = http://www.pangloss.com/seidel/Ramble/howl_text.html
WARNINGS CONTAINS STRONG ADULT THEMES AND LANGUAGE
I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed
by education,
half starved on beans and booze rations,
who passed through universities with LDN dreams,
and their dad’s Amex’s
hallucinating working class veneers,
wearing down trodden connotations.
Expelled from the college blocks and uni’s
by the scholars of war and Marx,
in their crazed cotton shirts and up-turned eyes
installing obscene odes on the windows of the skull.
I saw the truth of the night
light up the small town secrets,
explode the dreams of teenage years
as the moon shone rays of ghost blue
cloaked in radical new signs,
of life hidden beneath the high street and mortgage brokers.
Scrambled remains of Spiders cover the lofts of pigeons breasts
writing obscene notes and obscure letters
twelve feet high across the hearts of their friends.
I saw them escaping their mothers with hard drugs;
their fathers with waking nightmares, alcohol and cock.
Whole intellects discarded
in total abandon to Sambuca and bong rounds.
Bone-grindings and migraines of China
under poison withdrawal.
In the austere foul-mouths of bleak student rooms,
A silent reminder of a monochrome Dylan, hung
framed with coloured muslin, saris and silver wall-hangings filtering light from tea.
Floor’s and walls cracked deep with polished sheen
where the light bounced and sparked alight the colours
picking out the sequins on the Indian beading
which hung like stoned eyelids from floor to ceiling,
blocking the paths and parked cars from interior ideas of separatism
by those who howled on their knees on their way from remedies and were
dragged from the roofs by day-glo cops
Who stopped them from waving their genitals and essay scripts.
Who? let themselves be fu***d in the ass by saintly
professors and sanctimonious governments, and money lenders.
Who? screamed with joy, and blew their noses and minds and were blown by those human seraphim:
the sailors and surfers with caresses of Atlantic love.
who? balled in the morning of house party evenings,
in the rose gardens and on the grass
of public parks and cemeteries
scattering their semen freely to whomever.
Who? capitulated to boys from across violent seas,
or hunted for cnut
in unbridled mansions and pick-up joints and bus shelters,
Warmed with cider bottles and packs of baccy
and crawled along the floors and down the halls
lined with nameless and blank faces,
and ended up fainting on the beds - falling silent under coats, in jean pajamas
with a vision of ultimate love like stigmatated martyrs with
come to bed glares eluding the last gyzym of consciousness
as couples copulate in corners
and drunks recite lines from others' stories
and dopers smile at powdered ants with reptile eyes as they
sniff and sup with ecstatic glee,
from emptying bottles of generic liquid tanned with coca-cola.
As mini dreams reveal their twists and pre-packaged expectations insist
Till idle minds find the sweetened snatches
of inebriated false eye-lashes and stuck on talons
of emaciated daughters of lawyers searching for freedom,
teetering on last week's fashions.
Of emancipated druggers with ten bag habits reaching for the pen
trying to outwit the sword with silver plates of brown tar meals,
whilst studying visions of Caesar’s meals.
Of milk thighed virgins and bald arsed slaves to Rufus Wainwright
As Peggy Lee and guitars and dance music blared.
Many sons stiffened, and bottle blondes trembled,
their sweet honeyed cheeks flushed with brushes of sun
rejected yet ready to be confection again
to recreate the syntax and measure the floods of poor human remains.
Until
to stand, with one hand waving free,
you’re speechless and intelligent and jobless and shaking with shame.
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