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Best Famous 1986 Poems

Here is a collection of the all-time best famous 1986 poems. This is a select list of the best famous 1986 poetry. Reading, writing, and enjoying famous 1986 poetry (as well as classical and contemporary poems) is a great past time. These top poems are the best examples of 1986 poems.

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Written by Allen Ginsberg | Create an image from this poem

Cosmopolitan Greetings

 To Struga Festival Golden Wreath Laureates
 & International Bards 1986

Stand up against governments, against God.

Stay irresponsible.

Say only what we know & imagine.

Absolutes are coercion.

Change is absolute.

Ordinary mind includes eternal perceptions.

Observe what's vivid.

Notice what you notice.

Catch yourself thinking.

Vividness is self-selecting.

If we don't show anyone, we're free to write anything.

Remember the future.

Advise only yourself.

Don't drink yourself to death.

Two molecules clanking against each other requires an observer to become 
 scientific data.

The measuring instrument determines the appearance of the phenomenal
 world after Einstein.

The universe is subjective.

Walt Whitman celebrated Person.

We Are an observer, measuring instrument, eye, subject, Person.

Universe is person.

Inside skull vast as outside skull.

Mind is outer space.

"Each on his bed spoke to himself alone, making no sound."

First thought, best thought.

Mind is shapely, Art is shapely.

Maximum information, minimum number of syllables.

Syntax condensed, sound is solid.

Intense fragments of spoken idiom, best.

Consonants around vowels make sense.

Savor vowels, appreciate consonants.

Subject is known by what she sees.

Others can measure their vision by what we see.

Candor ends paranoia.


 Kral Majales
 June 25, 1986
 Boulder, Colorado


Written by Carolyn Kizer | Create an image from this poem

Days of 1986

 He was believed by his peers to be an important poet,
But his erotic obsession, condemned and strictly forbidden,
Compromised his standing, and led to his ruin. 

Over sixty, and a father many times over,
The objects of his attention grew younger and younger:
He tried to corrupt the sons of his dearest friends;
He pressed on them drinks and drugs,
And of course he was caught and publicly shamed.
Was his death a suicide? No one is sure. 

But that’s not the whole story; it’s too sordid to tell.
Besides, the memory of his poems deserves better.
Though we were unable to look at them for a time
His poems survive his death.
There he appears as his finest self:
Attractive, scholarly, dedicated to love.

At last we can read him again, putting aside
The brute facts of his outer life,
And rejoice at the inner voice, so lofty and pure.
Written by Li-Young Lee | Create an image from this poem

Eating Alone

 I've pulled the last of the year's young onions. 
The garden is bare now. The ground is cold, 
brown and old. What is left of the day flames 
in the maples at the corner of my 
eye. I turn, a cardinal vanishes. 
By the cellar door, I wash the onions, 
then drink from the icy metal spigot. 

Once, years back, I walked beside my father 
among the windfall pears. I can't recall 
our words. We may have strolled in silence. But 
I still see him bend that way-left hand braced 
on knee, creaky-to lift and hold to my 
eye a rotten pear. In it, a hornet 
spun crazily, glazed in slow, glistening juice. 

It was my father I saw this morning 
waving to me from the trees. I almost 
called to him, until I came close enough 
to see the shovel, leaning where I had 
left it, in the flickering, deep green shade. 

White rice steaming, almost done. Sweet green peas 
fried in onions. Shrimp braised in sesame 
oil and garlic. And my own loneliness. 
What more could I, a young man, want.

Credit: Copyright © 1986 by Li-Young Lee. Reprinted with the permission of BOA Editions, Ltd., www.boaeditions.org.
Written by Allen Ginsberg | Create an image from this poem

Sphincter

 I hope my good old ******* holds out
60 years it's been mostly OK
Tho in Bolivia a fissure operation
 survived the altiplano hospital-- 
a little blood, no polyps, occasionally
a small hemorrhoid
active, eager, receptive to phallus
 coke bottle, candle, carrot
 banana & fingers -
Now AIDS makes it shy, but still
 eager to serve -
out with the dumps, in with the condom'd
 orgasmic friend -
still rubbery muscular,
unashamed wide open for joy
But another 20 years who knows,
 old folks got troubles everywhere - 
necks, prostates, stomachs, joints--
 Hope the old hole stays young
 till death, relax

 March 15, 1986, 1:00 PM
Written by Carl Rakosi | Create an image from this poem

The Lobster

 Eastern Sea, 100 fathoms, 
green sand, pebbles, 
broken shells.

Off Suno Saki, 60 fathoms, 
gray sand, pebbles, 
bubbles rising.

Plasma-bearer
and slow-
motion benthos!

The fishery vessel Ion 
drops anchor here
 collecting 
plankton smears and fauna.

Plasma-bearer, visible
sea purge,
 sponge and kelpleaf.
Halicystus the Sea Bottle

resembles emeralds 
and is the largest 
cell in the world.

Young sea horse
Hippocampus twenty
minutes old,

nobody has ever 
seen this marine 
freak blink.

It radiates on
terminal vertebra 
a comb of twenty

upright spines 
and curls 
its rocky tail.

Saltflush lobster
bull encrusted swims

backwards from the rock.



From The Collected Poems of Carl Rakosi. Copyright © 1986 by Callman Rawley.



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