Best Kerouac Poems

seven below zero
      silent angels
cold prayers


darkness falls on snow
      fumbling
for my keys 


metrodome cave-in
      vikings lose their home
pillage detroit town


frost-bit
      mountain climbing
your forgotten love


windblown snow
...

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Nu-Jack Kerouac/Tony Adamo 2010

Miles,  Monk, Bird, Dizzy Gillespie & Train 
Jack Kerouac, Allen Ginsburg, Mingus and the Duke/
Wrote Music books and poetry that had the power to change our musical  written word/
They walked the walk baby and be-boped the talked/
Miles , Monk they...

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I used to write like
Jack Kerouac.
Words
crumbling down
paper. 
Stark thoughts
marked
by dots
and dashes.
 
Flashes of schoolyard brilliance
The hill I would
climb over
to be
someone different. 
I never saw life
through a dot.
LSD.
My father
was on mushrooms,
when he and my mother
created me.
 
Psychedelic sperm
meets
bitter weed
infested ovum. 
BANGED
into existence. 

Transient spirit
sloughing off
afterbirth long
after...

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KEROUAC THE WORD SPEAKS JAZZ/Tony Adamo

Spoken Word All in Caps for Better Reading While in Recording Studio/10/14/23
THE JAZZ COOL AND BEBOP MUSICIANS MADE MUSIC THEIR OWN/
 THE BEAT GENERATION WAS A NONCONFORMIST CULTURE MOVEMENT OF THE 1950’S/
  WRITERS, POETS SUCH AS JACK KEROUAC, NEAL...

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My Kerouac heart attacks
In illustrious cigar smoke stacks
Against time, Wake up to talk,
To speak, Unknown for hours
Amidst your wilting sunflowers
Let's talk nonsense prose
Where death kills,
Love, at last, grows
My Ginsberg snowflake cries Howls
With Wolfbane growls
At my Kerouac heart...

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After twilight around that corner
City Lights show an alternative way
Sipping sour whiskey from chipped cups
In low sweaty cellars where frothy cats play
Shades under tilted black beat berry hats
And Charlie's beat sounds out over his steady rap
Snyder slumps iodine in the doorway queue
Waiting for a tired...

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I am thinking of you, Kerouac.
As I always do 
when the leaves start to fall,
For that’s when I first fell for you 
many years ago.


You lit my fire and spit me into myself, ready to tackle
Each branch of myself.
Aching to view each night through a...

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On the restless road of existence,
Winding through beatnik midnight dreams,
I met a wanderer with stigmata palms,
Tales carved into hands like nomadic streams.

Under the neon hum of jazz club nights,
His scars sang stories of holy flights,
How the weight of the cross bore heavy and true,
On hearts...

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Four beige walls
Streaked with yellow tar
Of too many smokes
Kerouac waiting with Brautigan on shelf
Once the mongrel beat
Long forgotten

And the jazz plays cymbals taps flare
Chaka boom chaka boom chaka boom
While 88's like crystal wail
To the beat baby babe
 To the beat

On the road to desolation
The vision...

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was the whiskey and the jazz playing
On too many black nights with too
Many lonely women and not a poem
Between them

How many times can you run
From the shadow of the voices that
Surround you

Beating like drums in the darkness
Tasting more of your flesh each time
Not leaving enough...

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