Litkicks Message Board Archive

A Happy New Year !

Posted to WritersAndGenres




health and fun and thrills
to all of You -
and some correlativa by some of
the less known Beats:


“happy new yeeaar----??!

old year danced out on
big flat feet
glad to be rid of
its heavy burden
new years never came
he hid in the snow
in the waiting times square crowd
slugging cherry kijaa from a hip flask”

(d. a. levy, from Variations on a Flip (1963)
the distrust breeding
uselessness of everything
how far til i hit the bottom)


“…existential new year…

in marienbad geometrics
the modern minotaur or labyrinths
of timelessness and boredom
as if this passion were the only thing

something withheld of winded speeds
or leaping into eternities arms
with emotions tied and trailing behind
like ludicrous streamers

in hysterical motivation
the fugitive flight or open fields
of negatations descending and absurd
as if fleeting dreams of autumn revery

something of ecstasy in dark halls
or falling into narcotic transcendence
with veils of happiness and false
like summers fading warmth

PINK CHAMPAGNE”

(d. a. levy, from More Withdrawed or Less
they brought the dawn down
like it was dropped from some
cookie cutter or something –
and we just cried)


“Greeting the Year (2000), with respect
…
‘And he laid hold on the dragon, the old serpent,
and bound her for a thousand years
and cast her into the abyss
and shut it and sealed it over her
that she should deceive the nations no more
until the thousand years be finished;
after this she must be loosed a little while’
(Revelations 20: 2-4.) …

Let us go out and greet the new
year (century), said Seraphita, Balzac’s angel,
and the icy fjords cracked and melted
the bells rang wildly
With great respect, with great love
she said, and the energy
crackled across the sky like lightning.

Look at the serpent
curling through the green woods
spiralling up the hills from the flat land,
greet the new year (millennium) with complicity
for the unchained nature in the earth,
the air, the water,
the snake undulating up our spines
and the dragon in the stars.”

(Janine Pommy Vega in “Mad Dogs of Trieste” (New and Selected Poems))


“Poem for the millennium

Amid history’s dust
among vestigial bones of old ideologies,
one foot forward but seemingly no way forward or back
and originary thinking a dream beating its head
against a computer screen that’s already
infomercialed it,

some see the Millennium as billions
of people in need, some as billions
of bux; some see the gap widening between
haves and have-nots, some see the Gap
globally expanding… its shops.

How to get roof over everyone’s head ?
How to get 3 squares for all ad infinitum ?

There’s more terror. More greed.
More wraparound cars.
More thugs and scorpions
disguised in democracy.
More wars. More cops. More poor,
more poor, more
poor and homeless
masses in rags,
garbage-pickers, panhandlers, whores.
More mass-graves, slave-labor payoff promises,
arms unsleeving in Needle Alleys,
swarms of tourists passing by.

Death, you tear out our hearts and say,
See, they’re only muscles !
and feed ‘em to the sun of profits.
Death, we’re up to here in your blood-works
and have had enough of the back-break
and shell-game that hustles us dry.

We’re sick of this destiny of exploitation
and want another kind of society,
and can have, and will.

The bottom line moved in Seattle
almost 7 years since LA
on a wider stage
40,000 workers with environmentalists
internationally strong
and the kick-ass of the New Class
screwing the tear-gas and the jails
raising the spiral song
against the negation
that is capital.

And now we can and will
put more poor-sparks to those aglow
on every wrong, together making
a Millennium fire that will spread
our desire for a world co-operatively tuned
like an instrument all people will have
a hand in making and playing of,

to get the whole body of soul back,
and the dignity nailed to the garbage pail,
and the faces ripped off and the feelings killed,
and be able at last to walk out of every moment’s jail
into a world where a piece of bread
will profitlessly belong to all,
and where you’ll come to a door no longer a stranger
and find the place is yours simply because you’re human,
and free as well the schools and hospitals
for you to live your heart out
the way it was meant to beat.“

(Jack Hirschman, from “Front Lines”)