I was asked to write sample of Beat Poetry for " those of us that missed out on the time and place." Although I didn't make it to New York until the Beat phenomena had more or less petered out, I was able to find a coffee house or two or more who still held onto the idea that Beat was the salvation of the world and got to sit in on a few inadequate beats. Gone were Kerouac and Ginsberg, Burroughs, et al.
cheap California burgundy thinking back
brain is crowded
alone, all alone
I savor the melody of a dirge
Flowing into my senses
Unsought for the most part
alone, all alone
This time I sang along
Just wanted to hear my voice
But I was singing within
alone, all alone
In my mirror I saw my dread
Those few decades unleashed
Wanting what I didn't know
alone, all alone
I found myself one day
Then read of myself in a book
Hardly recognizable
alone, all alone
Was I the coward of my soul
In a crowd by myself
Not understanding why
alone, all alone
Many miles, many suns
Found homes not my own
Invited in, but then I fled
alone, all alone
A rebel without purpose
Touched me in every way
Vanity brushed against me
alone, all alone
A storm came up that day
And the mirror showed the devil
I stomped the syringe, flushed the dope
alone, all alone
Hit the road, not like before
Skin soaked from the rain
Somewhere there is relief
alone, all alone
Storm-lashed me
I walked toward sunshine
I'd found my purpose . . .
alone, all alone
I sit here thinking of it all
Smiling, when before I frowned
my favorite theme in movies, is the redemptive theme, and this poem sure did deliver!
The 'alone, all alone' repetition was like a bell that kept tolling all the way to the end. My soul cheered at the end!
Beautiful poem you've been good enough to share. Thanks
I haven't read much beat poetry. Don't even think that I read that famous "Howl," by Ginsberg but I do believe you probably captured the general flavor of the beat scene. They were rather cool and laid-back, but from the way you wrote probably offsetting the fact that regardless of their company, they were alone, like you were on the road.
Back in the "Hey Day" of the "Beat Generation".....Especially during the Late 50's & Early 60's & the "Hey Day" of Bandstand in Philly....A period of time that many consider the "Real" "Good Ole Days....
Dear readers, this is my third book of poems, and inside are a special collection of what have turned out to be not only MY personal favorites, but also the favorites of many of YOU. Some of these have never been available in print before...
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Love ya!
Jane
The 'alone, all alone' repetition was like a bell that kept tolling all the way to the end. My soul cheered at the end!
Beautiful poem you've been good enough to share. Thanks
David
Ron