Short Ginsberg Poems

Paris is burning, hypnotized, majestic spire plummets to earth....

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Cantor, cantor, cantor,
Allen Ginsberg was a 
Cantor, and the song 
he sang to you and me
was one that really mattered....

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Beat poet Allen Ginsberg
versifier to both seen&heard
The embodiment of all things anarchic
a performance art so hypnotic...

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Allen Ginsberg wrote 'Howl' 65 years ago
  Before almost anyone was woke

Read his poem carefully, my friend
  See America's downfall stoked...

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A-crostic
L-ine
L-ets
E-xpression
N-icely

G-ives
I-ts
N-oble
S-ubstance
B-y
E-mploying
R-emarkable
G-reatness

Topic: Birthday of Poet Allen Ginsberg (June 03) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic...

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A-bate
L-ethal
L-ink
E-rasing
N-asty

G-rime
I-f
N-ecessary
S-anitation
B-eats
E-pidemic's
R-abid
G-ruesomeness

Topic: Birthday of poet Allen Ginsberg (June 03) 
Form: Vertical Monocrostic...

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Bibs on babies are funny because they look like Ginsberg lace.
If they are embellished, and they are dainty for Ruthie or Grace.
When plastic they might be tidy, but they might break out baby’s neck.
By the sixth child, they no longer wear bibs. You say what the heck....

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“It’s hard to eat shit, without having visions,
 & when they have eyes for me it’s Heaven.”
    ~ Allen Ginsberg, “Malest Cornifici Tuo Catullo” (1955)

Begone bland corporate effigy
Woman bearing
Little
Hint of satisfied smile
Thank God
There were no good old days
    ~ Thanks always returns...

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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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i wanna vent like Bukowski
but the censors won't let me

be heard

won't let me cock my hat
and unload my gun
won't let me

be heard

i wanna howl like Ginsberg
but the censors don't like

my words

my swagger Redd Foxx like
when allowed to write

my words

i bet i could keep you up at night
if you allowed me to

be heard...

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Allen Ginsberg
Where have you gone?
We need you in this world right now
We are frightened and alone

You were a shining light through the darkness
Through the '50's you held strong
Even though society said 
Everything about you was wrong

You were a beacon of freedom
Let your words always ring true
You will always be a hero of mine
May God always shine his light on you...

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I the lonely poet whose words 
spill out onto the page 
like blood spatter at a crime scene
will knock at your door
books in my eyes hoping 
you'll want to critique them

while others partake of tradition
I will bring cheese
summer sausage, and wine
quote Auden, Ginsberg, and Dove 
'til the aurora strums the horizon
this rhythm inspires the wren
that melody signaling the dawn...

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mission accomplished, bounded in truth,Ruth that is.  dedicated to the rights of women matriculating the interpretation of man's law to remind man..you already wrote me in!  with her impeccable, eloquent demeanor, she was once asked..well can you rap like biggie smalls?   she replied, that's not my gift.all the women of the world are in agreement when it comes to truth, i pick Ruth, what ah lady, ah men, ah women....

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A.R. Ammons on the mound
Auden on the mound
Ginsberg on 1st
Frost on second
Carl Sandburg on third
Ferlinghetti at short
Right Field - Wordsworth
Left field - Shelly 
Blake - Center field
Shakespeare  - Catcher
Have I dropped enough 
names for you?
What's so bad about
being a name dropper?
The game is on 
Unfortunately my team 
is losing
But with poetic talent
They may yet
Eke out a victory
Postscript  - They just won!...

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Why Is There a Trump Horn Haiku Series

Why is there a Trump
Gives other side of story
Sad as it may be.

(Even Justice Ginsberg thinks so.)

Does want to disturb
And realize Hillary
Is best one for me.

Bring out her good points
He must be designed to do
Someday she will win.

Happy have become
Trump had appeared to be dumb
Beating his own drum.

We could be content
Thankful Hillary God sent
To be President.

Jim Horn...

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The fantastic 
writings 
          of Allan 
remain 
   but he is gone
do you remember 
    seeing him?
He traveled the 
  world in search 
of the perfect 
   poem
The waters of the East River
     still flow
and the old 
Gotham city 
     still stands 
tall
    Do you think you would like to 
join in on the 
  parade of poets?
Well pick up 
     a pen
  and let your 
thoughts appear
    on the page
We're waiting to hear from you!...

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Don't be a deadbeat
Beat poet actor man -- 
because I need you to
SUCK IT UP
understand? what I'm trying to say?
Kerouac and Ginsberg
loved and fled and
hated domesticity, but somehow
relegated their women to it
and liked their domestic money
to buy pretty domestic drugs
and Burroughs
SHOT his wife
(albeat on accident --
deadBEAT tell me the sym-bo-lism
in THAT).
Grow up and love ME
like you were meant to -- 
and
do. your. own. laundry....

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Two desolate angels from heaven
Killed by the paradox of Universe
Adonis, the son, the Savior
Feasting upon the perfect illusion of ecstasy
Only the Devil’s machinery
His madness awaits………

Screaming cryptic verses of Rosicrucian emancipation
On rooftops at midnight
The drunk poet of Phantom street
Ginsberg, Kerouac, Burroughs: their blood, the arrow
His soul, mind and spirit: the bow
Soaring through radiant skies
Transcending the ghost of reality
Achieving illumination....

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