Poetry – Magnetic Rain points – a poem for the Beat Generation.

I wrote this as a paean to Allen Ginsberg and his marvellous Howl. It was after a night spent outside under the stars. It always seemed to me that you connect to the cosmos when exposed to the entire panoply of stars. The sky is full.

Inside your home the ceiling gets in the way of the universe! I want to be connected!

Magnetic Rain Points

We are the damned

Risking sanity.

Whose tears roll down the street like magnetic rain

Pointing to the centre of oblivion

Joining with the unknown.

Free.

No terraced employment

With endless ceilings

To mask the shooting stars

That bring luck to eternity.

Giggling and starving

In cold tenement fields

Seeking illumination in daylight.

Who see the pointless farce of religion

And lie of society

Arraigned against the possibility of meaning.

Who have no fear of fun;

For fun is not evil.

Mindlessness is evil

As destruction and bigotry are evil.

For fun can be holy.

As compassion comes from understanding.

Who always avoid the words,

And read between and around the words,

Cry tears for the oppressed

And construct poems to wake us all up;

Who seek holy fun and experience.

Whose security is madness.

Who sacrifice comfort and sanctuary

For wonder, awe

And danger.

Who want to live!

 

Opher 2.5.01

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