create_destiny (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
create_destiny) wrote2006-09-04 11:14 pm
create_destiny) wrote2006-09-04 11:14 pm
Entry tags:
After Howl
Assignment:
Read Allen Ginsberg's poem, "Howl."
Write a rant, (your own version of "Howl"). Be as rhetorical as you like, get up on your soapbox and scream. Use repetition and striking imagery.
********************************************
After Howl
Our days of terror are over now
you and I,
our apocalypse has ended,
the signs of war have faded
from our faces
now shining with holy oil
mingling with tears of gladness,
tumbling from tender sore eyes
Our days of torture ended
And we went rejoicing into that water,
you and I,
our hair hung in our faces,
washed with hyssop and made clean
we were kissed by simplicity
again and again
we tasted grace on our lips
These were the days of our mystical resurrection
when we knelt in holy places
smelling of beeswax, earth and incense
the chinking of the censor like bells breaking
the bonds of our psychic death
our minds restored from madness
we walked softly in those days
gathering sweetness,
thumbing woolen prayer ropes
tied in intricate knots by black-robed women
bathed in beauty and light
again and again
we heard holy words
chanted by musky, bearded angels,
sacred words and ancient melodies flooding
our hearts
the way made smooth
by suffering
again and again
the traces of war and apocalypse
once etched deeply into
our souls, are gone now
our minds ravished
by the heavenly mystery
only images
of our mystical Resurrection
remain
Read Allen Ginsberg's poem, "Howl."
Write a rant, (your own version of "Howl"). Be as rhetorical as you like, get up on your soapbox and scream. Use repetition and striking imagery.
********************************************
After Howl
Our days of terror are over now
you and I,
our apocalypse has ended,
the signs of war have faded
from our faces
now shining with holy oil
mingling with tears of gladness,
tumbling from tender sore eyes
Our days of torture ended
And we went rejoicing into that water,
you and I,
our hair hung in our faces,
washed with hyssop and made clean
we were kissed by simplicity
again and again
we tasted grace on our lips
These were the days of our mystical resurrection
when we knelt in holy places
smelling of beeswax, earth and incense
the chinking of the censor like bells breaking
the bonds of our psychic death
our minds restored from madness
we walked softly in those days
gathering sweetness,
thumbing woolen prayer ropes
tied in intricate knots by black-robed women
bathed in beauty and light
again and again
we heard holy words
chanted by musky, bearded angels,
sacred words and ancient melodies flooding
our hearts
the way made smooth
by suffering
again and again
the traces of war and apocalypse
once etched deeply into
our souls, are gone now
our minds ravished
by the heavenly mystery
only images
of our mystical Resurrection
remain
no subject
We are not separate from everything else (including rich baby boomers) it's only our ego that makes us think we are....
more later, I have to go to work.
no subject
You're always going off on baby boomers and of course I can see why to a certain extent, but sometimes I wonder if you feel the need to revile a segment of society in order to be okay with yourself. And if so, then why "the babyboomers?" Surely there are other segments of the world's population more worthy of such derision. I personally like to blame Bush and Texans. ;P
I can't think in these boxes that are getting smaller and smaller with each response. How the hell do I put these under a thread?