(to Ginsberg)
you left me before I got the chance to say hello
died in May after the showers had come.
you spoke and spoke and spoke
over and over again before you died,
and I had chances to see you in person
but now I only have rented videotapes to remind me
of HOWL you let it all out,
holding nothing back,
hiding no secrets within your pant legs.
now you have Whitman to kiss in bed,
to fondle and caress as he would have done
if you were around in his lifetime.
no nosy reporters or anal critics
to demean meanings that have no meanings,
no lovers to leave the next morning
for fear of attachment unwanted,
no old age to be concerned about
day after day after day after night,
and no would-be poets troubling you
with poems about or inspired by you
for you don't have to listen anymore,
so worry yourself about us none
like you have always
for we will worry for you
and I'd like to say goodbye to you
but you won't hear me;
Keroauc won't shut up,
so I'll whisper silently and maybe the wind will carry,
goodbye speaker of all my thoughts,
goodbye lover of love collectively forbidden,
goodbye dreamer of dreams forgotten,
goodbye mind,
goodbye poet,
goodbye Beat Generation,
goodbye.
Reason for writing:
Allen Ginsberg is one of my favorite poets, right up there with
the Romantics and Whitman. He passed away this May and I needed
to be at peace with it, so I wrote this for him and myself
3 days ago. Let me know what you think please.. Thanx.
Birth sign: Not entered
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View more poems by Randy Ignatz (Aquarius).