Mexico City Blues
Jack KerouacSözler ve Alıntılar
A white poem, a white pure
spotless poem
A bright poem
A nothing poem
A no-poem non poem
nondream clean
silverdawn clear
silent of birds
pool-burble-bark
clear
the lark of trees
the needle pines
the rock the pool
the sandy shore
the cleanness of dogs
the
frogs
the
pure white
spotless
Honen
Honey Land
Blues
Sayfa 204Kitabı okudu
All of this meat is in dreadful pain
Anytime circumstances attain
To its attention like a servant
And pricking goads invest the flesh,
And it quivers, meat, & owner cries
And wishes ‘Why was I born with a body,
Why do I have this painful hive
Of hope-of-honey-milk yet bane
Of bitterest reward, as if, to wish
For flesh was sin alone itself —?’
And now you gotta pay, rhinoceros
and you,
Tho his hide's toughern ten young men
Armed with picks against the Grim
Reaper
Whose scythe is preceded by pitchforks
Of temptation & hell, the Horror:
‘Think of pain, you're being hurt,
Hurry, hurry, think of pain
Before they make a fool of you
And discover that you dont feel
It's the best possible privilege
To be alive just to die
And die in denizen of misery’
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Importunate fool that I was,
I raved to fight Saviors
Instead of listening in
To the Light — still a fool
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I want to be considered a jazz poet blowing a long blues in an afternoon jam session on Sunday.
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