Old moon my eyes are new moon with human footprint no longer Romeo Sadface in drunken river Loony Pierre eyebrow, goof moon O possible moon in Heaven we get to first of ageless constellations of names as God is possible as All is possible so well reach another life. Moon politicians earth weeping and warring in eternity tho not one star disturbed by screaming madmen from Hollywood oil tycoons from Romania making secret deals with flabby green Plutonians -- slave camps on Saturn Cuban revolutions on Mars? Old life and new side by side, will Catholic church find Christ on Jupiter Mohammed rave in Uranus will Buddha be acceptable on the stolid planets or will we find Zoroastrian temples flowering on Neptune? What monstrous new ecclesiastical designs on the entire universe unfold in the dying Popes brain? Scientists alone is true poet he gives us the moon he promises the stars hell make us a new universe if it comes to that O Einstein I should have sent you my flaming mss. O Einstein I should have pilgrimaged to your white hair! O fellow travelers I write you a poem in Amsterdam in the Cosmos where Spinoza ground his magic lenses long ago I write you a poem long ago already my feet are washed in death Here I am naked without identity with no more body than the fine black tracery of pen mark on soft paper as star talks to star multiple beams of sunlight all the same myriad thought in one fold of the universe where Whitman was and Blake and Shelley saw Milton dwelling as in a starry temple brooding in his blindness seeing all -- Now at last I can speak to you beloved brothers of an unknown moon real Yonus squatting in whatever form amidst Plutonic Vapors of Eternity I am another Star. Will you eat my poems or read them or gaze with aluminum blind plates on sunless pages? do you dream or translate & accept data with indifferent droopings of antennae? do I make sense to your flowery green receptor eyesockets? do you have visions of God? Which way will the sunflowers turn surrounded by millions of suns? This is my rocket my personal rocket I send up my message Beyond Someone to hear me there My immortality without steel or cobalt basalt or diamond gold or mercurial fire without passports filing cabinets bits of paper warheads without myself finally pure thought message all and everywhere the same I send up my rocket to land on whatever planet awaits it preferably religious sweet planets no money fourth dimensional planets where Death shows movies plants speak (courteously) of ancient physics and poetry itself is manufactured by trees the final Planet where the Great Brain of the Universe sits waiting for a poem to land on his golden pocket joining the other notes mash-notes love-sighs complaints-musical shrieks of despair and the million unutterable thoughts of frogs I send you my rocket of amazing chemical more than my hair my sperm or the cells of my body the speeding thought that flies upwards with my desire as instanta- neous as the universe and faster than light and leave all other questions unfinished for the moment to turn back to sleep in my dark bed on earth. Poem Rocket Allen Ginsburg
Posted on: Mon, 20 Oct 2014 18:39:24 +0000
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