the words I was taught

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revolutionR
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Joined: December 15th, 2013, 12:46 am

the words I was taught

Post by revolutionR » December 1st, 2016, 2:44 pm

the words I was taught
are not the words that I write
every time I write a poem
I go back to the first time
I was a surrealist before I became
a surrealist, or wrapped myself
around surrealism, maybe its because
I was a psychedelic teenager
I really liked the French poets
I read in the beginning like the Beat
poets, the way Ginsberg's Howl starts
is like a Bob Dylan song that was
the Beat drum roll to announce
the come on of the late sixties
the best minds are going to take a trip
we are all going to blast off from
the fifties with rocket ship looking cars
and kooky poets on the road talking
the poet talk, walking right in
blowing their minds on space jazz

I guess you could say I was looking
for an angry fix, or to fix my anger
poetry is like shooting up heroin
not because Burroughs was a junkie
but because it's like reefer madness
it's like were educated or not
in school in the fifties, and beatniks
getting some reefer from a negro
in the neon night when stars hung out
and freaky music played until dawn
and then the twilight zone bongo
played in the background

saxophones opened up our universe
and poetry dreamed in the city lights
I start from when I remember
the poems that spoke to me
when nothing else did, maybe that
space alien thing from the fifties
"take me to your leader" man!
show me your poets, dad
what is happening, what is cool
in this part of the galaxy, you cats

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