Screaming for Beat
The Beat poets were the start of a movement that wanted no part of the machine that society had become. They wanted life. They were on a mad crazy journey to experience, feel and gain knowledge, insight and satori. They smoked hash, took peyote and heroin to change reality and explore the dimensions of mind. Life was a journey, a vivid set of possibilities to be experienced. Every moment was vital. It had to be squeezed and its essence extracted. Life was for living, for kicks, for crazy, but also for love, satori and spiritual exploration. Life was Zen.
There were no rules or boundaries. There were poems to be created and shared; emotions to be garnered, sex to be shared, music to be bopped to and journeys to be undertaken. There wasn’t a second to waste.
Society was on a mad controlled rush to consume, exploit and use up. It was devoid of love, poems and purpose. Everything was regimented, made to fit, reduced or eradicated. Nature was unwanted unless confined to trimmed lawns, tidy flower beds and ornamental plants. If it moved – kill it.
For me that vision of society was a vision of a nightmare – an existence sucked dry, leaving life as a desiccated husk of a life devoid of feeling and passion.
The world was being tamed, destroyed, consumed and made to fit the plastic model. People were being controlled, trained to work and consume and tamed. Their desires were repressed. Their feelings controlled. Their passions doused.
The world was being transformed into a plastic nightmare of consumption and order. Nature and wilderness are being destroyed before our very eyes as the juggernaut of progress bulldozes the planet in its relentless greed.
We are being fenced in, tied up with laws and placed in our cubicles in orderly lines.
I want the chaos. Fuck the safety – I want the excitement – I want to live each second. It’s not about the length of a lifetime; it’s about the quality.
Screaming for Beat
Screaming at the injustice
The insanity, the madness.
Screaming in the face of destruction, devastation.
Screaming at the rape of nature, the slaughter.
Screaming at the mindless billions
Swamping all that is good and pure
With their synthetic plastic, neon boredom.
Screaming at myself for being
Part of the of the machine,
Within the machine,
Of the machine,
And at the whim of the machine.
Screaming at myself,
Consumed with guilt,
At my impotence,
Inabilities,
Limitations,
And inadequacies.
We should all be screaming
Instead of placidly sitting,
Buying, consuming
And politely talking
Platitudes;
Voting for psychopaths,
Allowing transgressions.
We should all be screaming
As the world is being torn
From our grip,
Nature eradicated,
And the planet
Transformed
Into a plastic theme park,
With Muzak, playgrounds, wheel-chair access and a curfew.
Where it is safe,
Comfortable
And there is no raucous noise to disturb the peace,
No insects to bite
And no, absolutely no, need
To think.
Opher 21.1.2016
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Maybe it was all trimmed lawns and 9 to 5 jobs and marriage and children and ordered life, with the way they wanted, but hell Opher, it was a lot better than now even though we moaned. There is no “nice correct” World, people no longer care it’s all greed me,me,me throw away World. I would rather have all the other years back then what we have now or what the next generation will inherit. Young People protested back then and you had the Beat Poets to tell us their way of life was better – drugs/booze/sex with whoever. No one forced anyone then, now we have threats of violence on our way of life, people being accused of being racist if like the ArchBishop of Canterbury we speak out against so called refugees, it’s not a nice world now but it’s all we have.
Yep – it’s a greedy, violent and politically correct world now. Not the type of place we thought we were creating. Naivety was part of that innocence. But the monster has grown.
Yes it has grown and and all that was nice and a world to look forward to has been ruined. Too much greed, I was shocked at the City when I was last there, it’s not Architecture now it’s ugly and all about money, they have ruined what was the real City. How is all of this an improvement we can’t stop it, we can’t stop anything.
But we can shout and protest about it. And if there are enough people doing that the rest will wake up and maybe we can get something done about it.
Maybe so, sometimes you just have to have the energy to do so. My CD you recommended is on it’s way, actually reading all that has been said about him, makes me like him even more, I like the wounded type if you like, and I can’t wait to hear what his music/singing was like. Too easy to criticise someone in “pain” we were not in that position to know the “pain” he went through.
Yes. But don’t get too disillusioned.
Jackson led a terrible life. His burns were horrendous, but he was a gentle soul who did not turn to hatred and blame. If anything he took it out on himself.