Wednesday, November 2, 2016

Writ on the Steps of Puerto Rican Harlem by Gregory Corso

There’s a truth limits man
A truth prevents his going any farther  
The world is changing
The world knows it’s changing
Heavy is the sorrow of the day
The old have the look of doom
The young mistake their fate in that look  
That is truth
But it isn’t all truth

Life has meaning
And I do not know the meaning  
Even when I felt it were meaningless
I hoped and prayed and sought a meaning
It wasn’t all frolic poesy
There were dues to pay  
Summoning Death and God  
I’d a wild dare to tackle Them
Death proved meaningless without Life
Yes the world is changing  
But Death remains the same  
It takes man away from Life  
The only meaning he knows  
And usually it is a sad business  
This Death

I’d an innocence I’d a seriousness
I’d a humor save me from amateur philosophy
I am able to contradict my beliefs  
I am able able
Because I want to know the meaning of everything
Yet sit I like a brokenness  
Moaning: Oh what responsibility  
I put on thee Gregory
Death and God
Hard hard it’s hard

I learned life were no dream
I learned truth deceived
Man is not God  
Life is a century  
Death an instant

My students used to enjoy Beat poetry more than any other, I think because it is more accessible than 18th or 19th century verse, but also because it is constructed in a way that appeals to the adolescent brain.  Like Kerouac, Corso captured portions of his life and attempted to make the mundane lyrical. Most of the time, I think he made the mundane more mundane, but I appreciate the attempt.