POETRY (via Instant Mobilizer)

"Lord Most High be magnified"

Read-Poetry.com

launching NEW BEAT POETRY, BE HERE ANY DAY NOW .

We'll be featuring poetry by Sarah Larkin, William Henry Drummond, & Amber Rose Tamblyn

2010

Uncle John

May your inner light strengthen you

To shine on each other

May the oceans of life bring you steady vision

New mystery with joy

May the love in this year's air

Carry and sustain and refresh you

May the earth you care

For reap treasures with protection

Old & New BEAT POETS

Violet Monday

Alfred Kreymborg

Jack Kerouac

Sarah Larkin

Amber Rose Tamblyn

Violet Monday

I was introduced to her spoken word before I read her poetry at a birthday party in September, in Berkeley for John Cassady, son of Neal Cassady and "Off The Road" author Carolyn Cassady. I love Violet's arrangement of words, her frugality with verbiage, her poetic thoughts. Violet Monday is a new beat wordsmith. This poem is from her book :

I’m not ready

for the world

and

the world

is not ready

for me

by Violet Monday

(available atLULU.COM)

MISS UNDERSTOOD

My heart has allowed the chance

To fully speak with you

Just as we engage in grandiose

Conversation of the meaning of life

We are cut off

Very abruptly I might add

Not understand

Why

Left with a fully pumping

Adrenaline running surge of electricity

And grasp the

Air

Left null and void

Empty

Dissatisfied malnourished

With rage

No where to relieve the explosion

Energy stale mate dead end

*****

ALFRED KREYMBORG

This early twentieth century troubadour and poet lover of American poetry, king of the early beats, knuckles on the door of the artists in the village, critical and radical wit, sharp with the tongue of his pen, a look at his poetry from his book:

"The Little World"

by Alfred Kreymborg

published in New York by Coward-McCann, 1932

Renascence

Ants

may be puny,

but armies

of ants,

combining

inspiration,

make a dead man

dance.

Jack Kerouac

Kind. Tender. Soft. Sympathetic.

Doubt Despair Gloomy Desolation.

The constant beat of life drum drumming tap tapping along.

Spontaneous Changing Phrasing Snapshot flections.

Dreams. Thoughts. Scenes. Songs in art and poems.

Deals and ideals. Rhymes and rhythms. Fingers and strings.

The setting in every town you go someone knows.

Jack didn't just listen the blues, he lived the down beat.

Bluesy blues that bring you out of your troubled self

and puts a smile on your face of empathetic examination.

Jack would listen to the blues and jazz musicians late at night after-hours at dance clubs in Harlem or LPs by the smoke-filled moonlight refilling glasses between sips.

from San Francisco Blues

Falling off in wind.

I got the San Francisco

blues

Bluer than misery

I got the San Francisco blues

Bluer than Eternity

I gotta go on home

Fine me

Another

Sanity

I got the San Francisco

blues

Bluer than heaven's gate,

mate,

I got the San Francisco blues

Bluer than blue paint,

Saint, -

I better move on home

Sleep in

My golden

Dream again

I got the San Acisca blues

Singin in the street all day

I got

The San Acisca

Blues

Wailin in the street all day

I better move on podner

Make my West

The Eastern Way-

San

Fran

Cis

Co-

San

Fran

Cis

Oh-

Ever see a tired

ba by

Crying to sleep

in its mother's arms

Wailin all night long

while the locomotive

Wails on back

A cry for a cry

In the smoke and the lamp

Of the hard ass night

That's how I

fee-

eel--

That's how

I fee-eel!

That's how

I feel--

What a deal!

Yes I'm goin ho

ome

So Mister Engineer

And Mister Hoghead

Conductor Jones

And you head brakeman

And you, tagman

on this run

Give me a hiball

Boomer's or any kind

Start that Diesel

All 3 Units

Less roll on down that rail

See Kansas City by dawn

Or grass of Amarilla

Or rooftops of Old New York

Or banksides green with grass

In April

Anywhere

BLUE ROSE

by Mary Hunt & Edna Marie Remillard

published Christmas, 2009

By Mary Hunt & Edna Marie Remillard

(Music by Brian Patenaude)

In the land of legend lived a prince

Who searched for a rose of blue

But where he looked and if he found

No one really knew

But I know one who has it

Within her own command

And she didn’t look far to find it

Nor search in a foreign land

It’s the rarest of all the flowers

For it can’t wilt and die with the years

Only grow all the more precious

With the warmth of human tears

To think that you have one

Is not such a hopeless thought

For let me tell you now my friend

Within yourself it’s wrought

It grows within a corporeal mass

Where the heart is as pure as the dove

Where a boy and girl have found each other

For the blue rose simply is love

BLUE ROSE

CHRISTMAS POEM

PRAYER

NO GREATER HONOR

MY LOVE

WHEN LOVE SPEAKS

NEW HOPE

REUNION

BLUE ROSE

A HERO SPEAKS

MY LOVE FOR YOU

ONLY REMEMBRANCE

HEART