The Artist's hommage to the poet Ginsberg

Poem by: donkylemore

Summary

Summer 1967 , sitting in a pub
a beat artist / singer holding forth in the corner.
bearded black-eyed like his idol.
surrounded by lesser intellects
his paintings are strewn around the bar, he makes one sale.
and I'm distracted .........

Content

Submitted: June 19, 2009

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Content

Submitted: June 19, 2009

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The drunken raucous bawcus , bowsie
Balladeer ,sitting in the corner of the bar
He’s been bellowing out blasphemy
For an unbroken hour now

His Jewish concubine
Spreading his canvases along the counter
An enfeebled attempt at a boat in a harbour
Painted in the naive style
With dedicated consummation.

A bawling argument about the poet Ginsberg
And the meaning of Howl
And its place in the cannon of the
Beat generation ;
The composition  ; the breathing
Long and short
And how he took his therapists advise
To become a poet

Evidently , we were that close to losing
Him  as a poet
That close
I had never guessed  ; had you ?


Someone comes timidly from the bar
As he’s discussing  in unilateral monotone
How Ginsberg had those hallucinations reading William Blake
He looks droop-eyed with disdain
At his Jewish concubine
Signaling in abstracted manner
That she conduct the bourgeoisie  sale.
As if some lower form of existence did these things
And certainly not readers of the poet Ginsberg

With lugubrious languorous
Armhe picks up the guitar
As  they fall in reverential silence
- No Body Knows You
-A Ha Ha-Ha  Ha - Hem
- Whenyou're down and out ..
Yea ! Man

-Its mighty strange
-But without a doubt
- No body knows you when you’re
-Down and out

No Ginsberg didn’t write that
He was Howling , remember
Since he got that  auditory hallucination
Reading William Blake

Lucky for us he was persuaded
To write it in poetic format.
Nearly missed that too
As it was to be a performance poem
I never knew that either ; did you ?

- I mean baby……
- when you’re down and out

Then the conversation returned
To the bearded mystic again
And how he subsequently provoked an obscenity trial.
Over the Howl.
And , you know I never knew that either

See ..someone told me that
This Jewess gave great head .
You miss things when you’re in thrall
To bawdy boozy
Bellicose balladeers
In the dark of a public house
On a Summers afternoon.

But later I discovered  that
She did
And I nearly missed that
Woul’dn’t you


© Copyright 2016 donkylemore. All rights reserved.

The Artist's hommage to the poet Ginsberg

Status: Finished

Genre: Commercial Fiction

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Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Commercial Fiction

Houses:

Summary

Summer 1967 , sitting in a pub
a beat artist / singer holding forth in the corner.
bearded black-eyed like his idol.
surrounded by lesser intellects
his paintings are strewn around the bar, he makes one sale.
and I'm distracted .........

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