Under a Beatnik Moon
Posted: May 2nd, 2022, 9:33 am
"Under a Beatnik Moon
I saw the ramblings
of Souls Seeking Truths"
The mystical flavors
holding court for
times askew
with their patterns
of stagnation...
Under a Beatnik Moon
feel the vibrations
of poems setting stage
for changes that will
come upon the beckon call
of planetary displacements
timed for that perfect second...
Transitory beliefs of mankind
aching in their before-times
reaching out their
wants, needs, desires
setting the streets afire
with new, spelled N E W
this that never ages...
Rumbling in hearts
spilling onto pages
brimming with new ideas
trashing the ideologies
that formulated intents
that no longer fit equations
postulated from the past...
But there have always been
and will always be
those that wander in mystery
to times no longer fitting
like pants with holes and patches
no longer keeping the idiot winds
from blowing... sucking
life out of monotony...
Under the Beatnik Moon
the travails of hoboes,
of pilgrims, of travelers
into the mystic unknown
but must be satisfied
for the present lies
stagnating its hollow corpse
for the trumpeteer to cry
outside the boundaries --
civility of one makes waste
towards the civility of others...
The wormy woods of fallen forests
trademark their pride of ownership
into staples, the pretense of money
and the absence of the greatness
called love, spelled L O V E
capitalize on that and let those
four-tunes play forever in the wanderings
of a just humanity
suffering cods upon the beaches
straining from impulses of
yesterdays kamikaze dreams
that never fulfilled after
the make shift purchase dissolves
salt into the see(n) whose bitter
results capitulate into gopher spills
upon the edges of destiny...
Under the Beatnik Moon
born again into ethereal
meanderings - we fight for
the imaginings belonging
to our spirit until -
O N E transmutes into O N E
_____*____
Cecil B. Lee
The mystical flavors
holding court for
times askew
with their patterns
of stagnation...
Under a Beatnik Moon
feel the vibrations
of poems setting stage
for changes that will
come upon the beckon call
of planetary displacements
timed for that perfect second...
Transitory beliefs of mankind
aching in their before-times
reaching out their
wants, needs, desires
setting the streets afire
with new, spelled N E W
this that never ages...
Rumbling in hearts
spilling onto pages
brimming with new ideas
trashing the ideologies
that formulated intents
that no longer fit equations
postulated from the past...
But there have always been
and will always be
those that wander in mystery
to times no longer fitting
like pants with holes and patches
no longer keeping the idiot winds
from blowing... sucking
life out of monotony...
Under the Beatnik Moon
the travails of hoboes,
of pilgrims, of travelers
into the mystic unknown
but must be satisfied
for the present lies
stagnating its hollow corpse
for the trumpeteer to cry
outside the boundaries --
civility of one makes waste
towards the civility of others...
The wormy woods of fallen forests
trademark their pride of ownership
into staples, the pretense of money
and the absence of the greatness
called love, spelled L O V E
capitalize on that and let those
four-tunes play forever in the wanderings
of a just humanity
suffering cods upon the beaches
straining from impulses of
yesterdays kamikaze dreams
that never fulfilled after
the make shift purchase dissolves
salt into the see(n) whose bitter
results capitulate into gopher spills
upon the edges of destiny...
Under the Beatnik Moon
born again into ethereal
meanderings - we fight for
the imaginings belonging
to our spirit until -
O N E transmutes into O N E
_____*____
Cecil B. Lee
....in due time