gabie1121
12-04-2012, 08:03 AM
I posted the start to this poem a while back and I'm here to get more serious feedback now that I'm finished. Again, I am instructed to write a poem as if I'm a 1950's beatnik poet writing about what I believe "the state of the union" is. Keep in mind it is for a history class, not an english class, so I'm sure he isn't going to be too nit-picky. It is for college though. So here is my poem, sorry for the extended length, but it was required. Just looking for any major hiccups you see and basically if you think it fulfills my goal. Thanks in advance!
They think they can put metal in space, machine in space, man in space;
they can’t even find the space to house the ideas of the people.
Space is out, gone, nowhere, everywhere
Space is the hollows in your brain, the hollows in your bones and in your heart,
the hollows they try to fill with nonsense: no drugs, no sex, no sense.
It’s the pulse of the drum, pulse of the heart that drives the music,
not the swish-swish, cling-ching money changing hands.
People live, sweat, breath, lust, lie, cry, and die
all the while money sits, building thrones for the pinstriped emperors.
Soldier boy on the porch turns around the house is burned;
the house is gone.
Drifting, endless, purposeless, homeless;
Sammie sends him far from home.
Home is burring, home is lost.
Toss them away to fill their place
Fearful, liquid, endless
It’s the pit-pat, tip tap of shoes on concrete,
shoeless feet wandering alleys,
sleeping in beds he doesn’t know, doesn’t recall;
all for the cost of blood, playing rent to Mr. Pinstripe
who doesn’t know, doesn’t recall the scent of death,
the racing streams of life fleeing from the thud beside him;
Can’t see, can’t feel, can’t judge.
I see stores, shops, ads, filled with things,
useless things that only clutter your home, your head.
Hair spray: spray it on your hair, spray it in your eyes.
Building, building are the need this, want this, gotta-have-its
Mr. Pinstripe hands rubbing, life, liberty filling his pockets.
Neighbors, mothers, sisters, Marilyns;
Stop looking, it can’t be found.
Power increases ever slipping further, running,
Chasing forever, but never close;
Heart racing, ears pounding,
Hands open, outstretched
The greater it grows the smaller the grasp.
Red and yellow, red and white and blue;
red for courage, red for fear
Fear of the change, fear of the cold,
fear of the next door neighbor spouting lies, creating outcries;
Hello to you too, Mr. McCarthy.
One slip, then slam!
Shame you couldn’t keep your mouth shut
shutting out the truth, the pain.
Words are friendly, words are cautious,
words are what Sammie says are okay;
tell that to Ginsberg.
Zooming, whizzing, flashing by
Stop, time is now!
No Tuesdays, Fridays, only today.
Air in lungs, feet on earth
Consciousness, forgiveness, loneliness
Reality is me touching you, you touching me,
the thump of my heart, the heat in your skin,
clothes on the floor, lust in your eyes.
Just now, right now, only now
Out the window, through the streets
don’t recognize it, won’t claim it
Tight lips, shut eyes, small minds
Open legs, open hearts; open mouth, open soul.
Forgetting is remembering
Loving, Learning, Leaping
Starlight, Summer, Shiva
Daring, Dreaming, Doing
Pushing forward, outward, inward, skyward;
Stop moving, stop living, stop fighting.
Hearts keep beating, blood keeps flowing
minds keep learning, legs keep running.
Man loves woman, man loves man,
neighbor, cousin, uncle, stranger.
Chainless ankles, tearless eyes,
Battleless fields, widowless families,
Hateless hearts, pryless eyes.
Welcome home, Thomas More.
What are all these dreams for?
Hope for tomorrow,
hope for making it through today.
What’s there to say?
In and out, up and down;
spinning circles on this hamster wheel
for one chance, one gasp, one life.
They think they can put metal in space, machine in space, man in space;
they can’t even find the space to house the ideas of the people.
Space is out, gone, nowhere, everywhere
Space is the hollows in your brain, the hollows in your bones and in your heart,
the hollows they try to fill with nonsense: no drugs, no sex, no sense.
It’s the pulse of the drum, pulse of the heart that drives the music,
not the swish-swish, cling-ching money changing hands.
People live, sweat, breath, lust, lie, cry, and die
all the while money sits, building thrones for the pinstriped emperors.
Soldier boy on the porch turns around the house is burned;
the house is gone.
Drifting, endless, purposeless, homeless;
Sammie sends him far from home.
Home is burring, home is lost.
Toss them away to fill their place
Fearful, liquid, endless
It’s the pit-pat, tip tap of shoes on concrete,
shoeless feet wandering alleys,
sleeping in beds he doesn’t know, doesn’t recall;
all for the cost of blood, playing rent to Mr. Pinstripe
who doesn’t know, doesn’t recall the scent of death,
the racing streams of life fleeing from the thud beside him;
Can’t see, can’t feel, can’t judge.
I see stores, shops, ads, filled with things,
useless things that only clutter your home, your head.
Hair spray: spray it on your hair, spray it in your eyes.
Building, building are the need this, want this, gotta-have-its
Mr. Pinstripe hands rubbing, life, liberty filling his pockets.
Neighbors, mothers, sisters, Marilyns;
Stop looking, it can’t be found.
Power increases ever slipping further, running,
Chasing forever, but never close;
Heart racing, ears pounding,
Hands open, outstretched
The greater it grows the smaller the grasp.
Red and yellow, red and white and blue;
red for courage, red for fear
Fear of the change, fear of the cold,
fear of the next door neighbor spouting lies, creating outcries;
Hello to you too, Mr. McCarthy.
One slip, then slam!
Shame you couldn’t keep your mouth shut
shutting out the truth, the pain.
Words are friendly, words are cautious,
words are what Sammie says are okay;
tell that to Ginsberg.
Zooming, whizzing, flashing by
Stop, time is now!
No Tuesdays, Fridays, only today.
Air in lungs, feet on earth
Consciousness, forgiveness, loneliness
Reality is me touching you, you touching me,
the thump of my heart, the heat in your skin,
clothes on the floor, lust in your eyes.
Just now, right now, only now
Out the window, through the streets
don’t recognize it, won’t claim it
Tight lips, shut eyes, small minds
Open legs, open hearts; open mouth, open soul.
Forgetting is remembering
Loving, Learning, Leaping
Starlight, Summer, Shiva
Daring, Dreaming, Doing
Pushing forward, outward, inward, skyward;
Stop moving, stop living, stop fighting.
Hearts keep beating, blood keeps flowing
minds keep learning, legs keep running.
Man loves woman, man loves man,
neighbor, cousin, uncle, stranger.
Chainless ankles, tearless eyes,
Battleless fields, widowless families,
Hateless hearts, pryless eyes.
Welcome home, Thomas More.
What are all these dreams for?
Hope for tomorrow,
hope for making it through today.
What’s there to say?
In and out, up and down;
spinning circles on this hamster wheel
for one chance, one gasp, one life.