Monday, April 29, 2013

Naropa Boyfriends


NAROPA BOYFRIENDS


______________________

Naropa Boyfriends
Boulder Diary
How I Write Poetry &
Who I Learned From
Writing Poems
Family Portrait
Scrap Book
Another Day
Julius My Brother
Mirror
Morning Poem
_________________

NAROPA BOYFRIENDS

“nothing like a hot dish
of warm lips”
—Peter Orlovsky
CLEAN ASSHOLE POEMS
_____________

Naropa a big Marketplace—
everybody is writing poetry

Allen says to his classes—
poetry is by itself nothing
_____________

I’m always at the mercy—
of cute young Rimbaud boys

I know what that means—
the great come-on routine
______________

All these young guys—
hangin around Allen

Each night in Boulder—
goin to bed with some kid
__________________

BOULDER DIARY

“Talk we Split it’s—
all right, goin ways”
—Peter Orlovsky
CLEAN ASSHOLE POEMS
_______________

Allen’s apartment becomes—
a youth hostel every night

They want to get in bed—
with the great queer poet
____________

It’s okay with me cause—
I’ve been there done that

It’s okay with me cause—
by now it’s all pretty boring
___________

I’m not turned on by—
Allen’s old ugly cock

Young guys can do him—
I could give a shit
____________

They’re not interested—
in poetry just being famous

“Look at me, I went to bed—
with the great poet Ginsberg!”
_____________

HOW I WRITE POETRY &
WHO I LEARNED FROM

“In 1957 Paris hotel room
I wrote my first 2 poems”
—Peter Orlovsky
CLEAN ASSHOLE POEMS
____________

I learned from Allen—
to always write it down

Always carry a notebook—
so you can drop it on paper 
___________

I get a kick jotting down—
spontaneous flashes

Corso taught me to recognize—
funny speech word idea combos
_____________

Catullus natural talk about love—
Rimbaud for lightening action

Lorca for finding my duende—
WC Williams for reality track
__________

Allen for spontaneous verse—
“First word, best word”
______________

WRITING POEMS

“Writing poems is
a sacred thing”
—Peter Orlovsky
CLEAN ASSHOLE POEMS
____________

Writing poems scary business—
sacred & yet profane too

A diary or a novel—
would make a lot more sense
____________

One family all I ever want to know—
what good another soap opera?

The same old memory ramblings—
another bunch of normal lies
____________

To breathe is just to sigh—
roll my eyes is all I can do

Rain & snow my only clock—
watching it thru the window
__________

Grinding my teeth for lack of love—
the world a cold stove cathedral
______________

FAMILY PORTRAIT

“I love the foot steps—
of my family when
they walk thru the
house at night”
—Peter Orlovsky
CLEAN ASSHOLE POEMS
_____________

I don’t like sorrow to hang—
down from my family tree

So I try to visit them—
as much as I can
____________

I’m just a nameless asshole—
but they’re still my family

Looking into each other’s loopy eyes—
it’s sad but still we’re still here
____________

Old age is a heart stab—
see what it does to faces?

No wonder they pull down—
the window shades so that
____________

None of the neighbors—
can see what I see

All families are the same—
it’s just so fuckin sad
_____________

SCRAP BOOK

“beauty lies deep like
the little speck of dirt”
—Peter Orlovsky
CLEAN ASSHOLE POEMS
______________

Heaven’s closet—
what’s in there anyway?

I use my teeth and fingers—
to pry it open, saliva dripping
_______________

My broken fingernails—
flinging the closet door open

Spooks spillin out—
a rush of rumors too
_______________

What did I think was—
in there anything to know?

Then he comes out—
my idiot kid brother Julius
_____________

ANOTHER DAY

“a hungry rose cloud
will eat us up”
—Peter Orlovsky
CLEAN ASSHOLE POEMS
__________

The smiling shadow—
in my broken heart is

An unseen face—
hidden in some clay
__________

Always a little stillness—
when I stop and think

What am I all about—
standing, sitting here alone?
____________

A monument to fate is—
being erected in my pants

Getting on the bus—
everybody sees it
___________

JULUS MY BROTHER

“No tears for Julius tonight
brother that left me young”
—Peter Orlovsky
CLEAN ASSHOLE POEMS
_______________

He’s only 18—
goodlooking with a mop of hair

Gone, gone down the road—
such a strange crazy kid
_______________

He sits alone in the corner—
that faraway look in his eyes

I’ve worked in mental hospitals—
know the gloomy horror of it
_______________

At least he’s home with mother—
even tho she’s a zombie too

It runs in our family—
years pass, it just gets worse
______________

MIRROR

“All I need is a mirror
for the rest of my life”
—Peter Orlovsky
CLEAN ASSHOLE POEMS
____________

Shaving in the morning—
my hairy ugly werewolf face

My eyes just empty holes—
only hoping to understand
______________

Blinking neon sign shines—
down thru my bedroom window

Reminding me once again—
life is just a Grade-B movie
______________

My life here in NYC—
another American beatnik 

Thank god I’m not a hustler—
selling my bod on Times Square
_______________

MORNING POEM

“Morning again,
nothing has to
be done”
—Peter Orlovsky
CLEAN ASSHOLE POEMS
_______________

Morning comes—
don’t feel like doin nothin

Maybe I’ll write a poem—
or let a poem write me
______________

Time for another joint—
let the show begin

There’s this elevator—
from my bed to the floor
_______________

Isn’t that paradise—
your own dream room-land?






Sunday, April 28, 2013

Peter Orlovsky


PETER ORLOVSKY



“Realize big difference
between me & Allen—
he has such far verbal
poetry image—I get
high thro feeling”
—Peter Orlovsky
CLEAN ASSHOLE POEMS
____________

I never did get off much—
on Naropa & all that shit

So my toe would curl—
and become a snail
_________

Then going curiously—
on its own way

One room is all—
I’ll ever know
__________

One bed plus—
memory ramblings

Writing poems such—
a lonely act







Saturday, April 27, 2013

Allen Ginsberg


ALLEN GINSBERG (1926-2007)


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EQt3NeExDXM

The Buddhists swarmed—
around his dead body

Busy doing their tacky—
dharma rebirth routines
______________

Allen could meditate—
for hours & hours

Some stupid boulder—
doing his meditation trick
__________

The only problem was—
coming down from there

He’d be horny as hell—
chicken in the SAFEWAY
__________

So much for NAROPA—
getting off in Boulder

Despite all the Poetics—
all that Spontaneous Shit
______________

There was only one thing—
Neil Cassidy’s fine bod

Even butchy Kerouac—
fell in love with Neil
____________

Denver laments eternally—
Neil Cassidy its Male Diva

There’s nothing quite—
like that young Stud cock
_____________

Fag poets aren’t any—
different than anybody else

Cassidy the cute Cowboy—
his true Story yet to be told
_________

It’s the Story of America—
back then in the Fifties

It’s something even now—
that haunts all of us
__________

But they’re all gone now—
Allen was one of the last

Burroughs in Kansas—
with his shotguns & cats
_____________

This is how it happens—
Literary movements live

They shoot their wads—
America craves their cum



Friday, April 26, 2013

The Talking Asshole




THE TALKING ASSHOLE 



“Did I ever tell you about the man 
who taught his asshole to talk?”
—William Burroughs, NAKED LUNCH
____________________

Did I ever tell you about the man—
who taught his asshole how to talk?

Actually it was the other way around—
his asshole taught him to talk instead
_____________

He was really good at it—
farting away grand speeches on TV

It was unlike anything ever heard—
or smelled before such a shitty syntax!!!
______________

His asshole talked with such fluency—
his colon was tres intelligentsia

He worked for this traveling carnival—
at first a novelty ventriloquist act
________________

After awhile he started talking to himself—
his ass would ad lib & toss out gags

But his asshole got bored with all that—
eating through his pants out on the street
__________________

Shouting out it wanted equal rights—
all pouty & puckered up in farting jags

Bitching that nobody loved it & wanted—
to be kissed like any other pair of lips
______________

The guy couldn’t stop his talking asshole—
it went on & on ranting day and night

You could hear it for blocks away—
people screaming for it to shut the fuck up
___________________

The guy threatened his asshole saying—
I’ll stick a fucking dildo in you, then what?

You’re the one that’s gonna shut up—
the talking asshole said back to the guy
______________

I don’t need you anymore because—
I can talk and eat and SHIT if I want to!!!

After that the dildo shut him up good—
but when the guy had to shit, WATCH OUT!!!
________________

So anyway, the talking asshole shut up—
cause one thing it needed was a pair of eyes

It trapped the guy though one day—
getting an organ transplant on the sly
_________________

Viola!!! The first talking asshole with an eye—
It walks!!! It talks!!! It can even see!!!

That’s when the asshole squeezed its cheeks—
and ran for an office in local politics
____________

It started out just being Mayor of Shitville—
but you know ambitious Assholes can be…

Jaysus christ, pretty soon he was on TV—
CNN & FOX-News went hog-wild over him
__________________

He even stooped to conquer—
letting Rachel Maddow kiss his lips

Lady Gaga couldn’t wait to finger him—
getting her forefinger all the way up there
_________________

He bit it off with his razor hemorrhoid teeth—
Justin Bieber was gonna be fuckin next

The end result was simply horrifying—
all the world’s assholes suddenly revolted
______________________

A whole new bourgeois bunghole Bureaucracy—
had to be quickly invented right then & there

No time for any more dithering diarrhea—
after all, who’d been sitting there forever?
__________________

There on the THRONE day after day—
Kings, queens, peons, the usual gangsters

But who really knew the fine red line—
between life and death at the final end?
_______________

It was the worldly humble meek Asshole—
constantly taking care of the dirty shit

Empires come & go, States collapse—
but it’s the Asshole who rules in the end
_________________

Proud & tall & built like old Shit-houses—
lonely out there on the lonely prairies

Prim & proud, sleek marble rims for the—
Emperor Caligula’s fine wicked tender ass
______________

Ah yes, it’s an altogether different history
once you start seeing things differently

So you ask me whatever happened—
to this guy’s troublesome Talking Asshole?
__________________

Listen closely, cause I’ll only fart this once—
it’s tres secret and truly hush-hush

Welcome to my ASSHOLE PLANET—
guess who sits on the Throne now?







Cut-Up Poetics


CUT-UP POETICS 



http://www.gotpoetry.com/Sections/op=viewarticle/artid=23.html

“Members of Burroughs’s “Beat” generation
had drifted from place to place, always moving
and their writing was similarly disjointed.” 
—Sarah Smarsh, It Happened in Kansas
_______________

So it only makes sense that Burroughs’—
writing and visual art deal with motion

Setting paint flying at explosive speed—
one way of doing motion on canvas
______________

Sitting there in Lawrence—
and writing it is one thing

But trying to write what’s moving—
that’s a totally different artform
________________

Old representational methods—
didn’t work with Kansas landscapes

He turned to cut-up collages—
a new narrative technique was needed





Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Dark Carnival


DARK CARNIVAL 



There’s no need for any memoirs—
since when does Hollywood care?

Los Angeles a heartless bitch—
just ask Bela Lugosi, my dears
________________

Bela fell for Ed Woods of course—
offered the chance to star again

Who gave a fuck if it was cheesy—
BRIDE OF THE MONSTER?
______________

Actors need to act to live—
it’s the lifeblood of filmic gods

Gods of the Silver Screen—
the only Immortality we have
______________

Observe us at any Film Palace—
but there are none of them left

We live again only alone—
like very old vintage wine
___________

We need Hollywood no longer—
we exist now in the Night

Look at me Tod Browning—
sitting in front of my TV
____________

Alone in my beach-house—
late at night on Monica Beach

Watching late movies—
preferably old horror ones
__________

We directors make movies—
like Billy Wilder and Huston

But I was unique—
I created you FREAKS 




Malibu


MALIBU 


—for Tod Browning

No one knows the darkness—like I do. There is only one darkness—the darkness of the NIGHT.

It creeps up on you—in the Night. Like tonight here on Monica Beach—hear the waves?
_____________

The waves—children of the Night. Hissing and curling—up onto the lonely beach. 

Hear them? Don’t be afraid—
It’s only a late TV night horror show
______________

Perhaps you’ve seen my work?—
Forgotten by Hollywood Babylon

There was a time when I created—
DRACULA with Bela Lugosi
_____________

We set the standard for horror—
Universal Films born because of us

Boris Karloff just a fucking hack—
I was the Transylvania Queen Bee
____________

Evil Incarnate through Browning—
I took over Hollywood just like that

Ever since then they’ve been singing—
Marlene Dietrich cabaret swan songs












Monday, April 22, 2013

Flint Hills Evening


FLINT HILLS EVENING 



“The shadow crawls
up canyon walls”
—Badger Clark
“The Sky Blue Plains,”
SUN AND SADDLE LEATHER
________________

The Flint Hills evening—
comes slowly down ravines

The rim rocks flush pink—
crawling night shadows
____________

The cottonwood leaves—
quiver shiver like me

Do they anticipate—
what I know will happen?
_____________

The wind break sways—
knows what night brings

The Flint Hills get still—
more blue shadows come
________________

After dinner we smoke—
drink some Johnny Walker

The stillness out there—
singing the same old song
____________

Blow out kerosene lamp—
then to bed together

If only I say to myself—
it’ll be this way forever




Gay Cowboy Poetry


GAY COWBOY POETRY 



He was hard to get to know—
but then that’s the way it was

The harder the better—
a quiet kind of prairie love
__________

Mostly just him & me driving—
out there on Kansas nights

Bought me a nice Stetson hat—
a pair of expensive boots
__________________

I never made a decent cowboy—
he didn’t seem to mind tho

He wanted somebody to—
know & love him way out there
_______________

OUT THERE different than—
livin in town back home

I can’t even describe it—
it’s like livin on the moon
________________

Cowboy songs comin up from—
OK City on the radio

Cowboy commaraderie—
him & me out there 
______________

Turnin me on to country music—
comin up from Oklahoma City

Hank Williams especially—
YOUR CHEATIN HEART
________________

Out there in his ranch-house—
quiet Chase County nights

Kinda spooky like Z-Bar Mansion—
listenin to prairie wind outside
_____________

Lived with him for a year—
stoic Kansas cowboy dude

Rented the range out to—
young ranchers with families & kids





Sunday, April 21, 2013

GAY COWBOY POETRY


GAY COWBOY POETRY 2 


http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=fvwp&NR=1&v=lUV4PGtr-7A

Anyway sittin here havin a drink—
floatin kinda high right now

Ya know, reminiscin' about it—
him on my mind
__________

Poetry I suppose cause—
it seems less I don’t know what 

Chase County cowboy romance—
kinda like BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN
___________

Here on his ranch outise Strong City—
Jaysus, I loved him so really bad

The son of a rich cattleman—
catchin my eye in high school
_____________

Drivin his Chevy pickup—
his blue corduroy FFA jacket

Always lookin so butch comin—
down the hallway bowlegged
____________

Still riding his horse out there—
Chase County butch kid

Lanky & shy, hangin out with—
his FFA buddies across the street
____________

Over in the Vocational Ed Bldg—
doin gawd knows what

Workin with cars, engines—
Stuff country boys do





Saturday, April 20, 2013

Strong City



STRONG CITY 



I didn’t much want to—
but like I couldn’t help it

Him waitin for me—
in his Chevy pickup truck
___________

Waitin for me there in—
the high school parking lot

Smokin a cigarette—
after all that boring shit
____________

The shit they put us thru—
punchin a fuckin clock

Gettin us ready for it—
shitty working class crap
___________

There I stood lookin—
at him like I always did

He didn’t look away—
he said “Get in, baby”
_____________

We drove west outta—
town real slow on Sixth

Hank Williams on the—
radio from OK City
________

Suddenly I realized—
I was never gonna

Gonna be the same—
not with him anyway
__________

Out past Hwy 50—
past the Truck Stop

He reached over—
grabbed my leg
___________

Jaysus christ I—
fainted then & there

Talk about angels—
descendin' outta heaven
______________

I was ready for it—
some wings to fly

Ready for anything—
he wanted me to be