Luna Apostrophea

The moon her magic be, big sad face
Of infinity An illuminated clay ball
Manifesting many gentlemanly remarks

She kicks a star, clouds foregather
In Scimitar shape, to round her
Cradle out, upsidedown any old time

You can also let the moon fool you
With imaginary orange-balls
Of blazing imaginary light in fright

As eyeballs, hurt & foregathered,
Wink to the wince of the seeing
Of a little sprightly otay

Which projects spikes of light
Out the round smooth blue balloon
Ball full of mountains and moons

Deep as the ocean, high as the moon,
Low as the lowliest river lagoon
Fish in the Tar and pull in the Spar

Billy de Bud and Hanshan Emperor
And all wall moongazers since
Daniel Machree, Yeats see

Gaze at the moon ocean marking
the face –

In some cases
The moon is you

In any case
The moon

The Moon Her Majesty ~ Jack Kerouac

 

When you find yourself in a place where you are no longer feeding your soul but rather regurgitating words and ideas that you have already visited, it is time for self-reflection.

You deserve adventure, inspiration, not too much excitement that you lose your mind, but enough to feed the creator within you.

 

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“For Amiri Baraka”

 ~ written by Diane Di Prima, January 10, 2014

 

amiri-baraka-290
Holding their daughter

 

don’ matter was it

yr left foot went bad

or yr right

don’ matter yr lungs

or yr heart

don’ matter if that

mass

on yr liver was

malignant

or what’s been wrong

so long

w/yr kidneys

don’t matter

drugs

or herbs

or acupuncture

or why you didn’t

go

to those appointments

don’t matter how much you drank

or if you drank

don’t matter you did or you didn’t

take drugs

meaning meds

or take drugs

meaning drugs

what matters now

what matters &

what’s gonna matter

a hundred

a thousand years

what matters when

what we wrote

what we thought

is lost

(& don’t kid yourself,

Ginsberg

it’s all of it

gonna be lost)

what matters:

every place

you read

every line

you wrote

every dog-eared book

or pamphlet

on somebody’s shelf

every skinny hopeful kid

you grinned that grin at

while they said

they thought they could write

they thought they could fight

they knew for sure

they could change the world

every human dream

you heard

or inspired

after the book-signing

after the reading

after one more

unspeakable

faculty dinner

after that god-awful flight

& the drive to the school

what matters:

the memory

of the poem

in thousands of minds

that quantum

of energy

passed over

passed

all the way over

to the other

to thousands

of others

what matters

Revolution

what matters

Revelation

what matters

the poem

taking root in

thousands

of minds …