Hello all who are out there (i literally feel like a space-martian whenever i write in this blog, because i have no idea who my audience is and whether i should be really chummy and be like hey there lovely ones, or stick with a more severe greetings, or maybe wazzaaaaaaaaaa)
I’m really tempted to start every post with a wazzaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…
Just to get some reactions. But shall not. i have my dignity to safeguard.
So i have here for you some poetry that i’ve written many weeks ago, while we were busy studying Howl (By Allen Ginsberg everyone. Go read/listen to the live performance of it). And i thought i should share it with this audience of mine (please be not oysters and sea-cucumbers but living breathing humn beings who like poetry please :). So pleasenjoy!!!!!!! And tell me if you think otherwise. Poetry is subjective truth. And subjective beauty. And therefore i adore it.
Allen Ginsberg-esque, Howl style:
[20th century issues]
I live within the walls of freedom, so intangible are they
that I can touch, smell and fondle them in this world of pardoxical mumbo-jumbo
Oh, how much I have
triste et joyeux living without it-
the previous century’s big fear
oh of racial ethnic gender discrimination
oh of living a life sans freedom
Is there somebody
Oh with the freedom yielding power of Obama
come and help me spell this word and tear it piece by piece
one stinking immeasurably long strand at a time
Oh, only to find what lies inside of it
Oh is freedom twisted by the free and prosperous world we love and cherish in this century-
Nothing greater than the opposite of modeerf
Oh, what a pathetic waste of freedom
Like humanity’s long-lost love forgotten.