Barba Joki slobodno odvrni nek se more zapjeni. Ionako poslije svake bure more se prepusti drijemezu.
A evo jednoga,
Jack Kerouac koji je otvorenih ociju sanjao i neprestano se unosio vjetru u lice sve dok se i sam nije pretvorio u kineticku svevremenu cesticu. Beatnik i pjesnik, generacijski prorok koji je izmedju ostalog vjerovao da
The only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes "Awww!"-----
Poezija i ovako i onako.
A spoken word tribute with music.
Kerouac - Kicks Joy Darkness
1. Kerouac - Morphine
2. Bowery Blues - Lydia Lunch
3. My Gang - Michael Stipe
4. Dream: "Us Kids Swim off a Gray Pier..." - Steven Tyler
5. Letter to William S. Burroughs & Ode to Jack Hunter S. Thompson - Hunter S. Thompson
6. Skid Row Wine - Maggie Estep
7. America's New Trinity of Love: Dean, Brando, Presley - Richard Lewis
8. Dream: "On a Sunny Afternoon..." - Lawrence Ferlinghetti
9. MacDougal Street Blues - Jack Kerouac
10. Brooklyn Bridge Blues - Allen Ginsberg
11. Hymn - Eddie Vedder
12. Old Western Movies - William S. Burroughs
13. Silly Goofball Poems - Juliana Hatfield
14. Moon - John Cale
15. Madroad Driving - Come
16. Have You Ever Seen Anyone Like Cody Pomeray? - Robert Hunter
17. Letter to John Clellon Holmes - Dana Colley
18. Pome on Doctor Sax - Anna Domino
19. Mexico Rooftop - Robert Buck
20. Last Hotel - Lenny Kaye
21. Running Through-Chinese Poem Song - Michael Wolff
22. Woman - Jim Carroll
23. Loneliness, Mexican - Joey Altruda
24. Angel Mine - Jeff Buckley
25. Brooklyn Bridge Blues - Eric Andersen
-------------------
Bowery Blues
The story of man
Makes me sick
Inside, outside,
I don't know why
Something so conditional
And all talk
Should hurt me so.
I am hurt
I am scared
I want to live
I want to die
I don't know
Where to turn
In the Void
And when
To cut
Out
For no Church told me
No Guru holds me
No advice
Just stone
Of New York
And on the cafeteria
We hear
The saxophone
O dead Ruby
Died of Shot
In Thirty Two,
Sounding like old times
And de bombed
Empty decapitated
Murder by the clock.
And I see Shadows
Dancing into Doom
In love, holding
TIght the lovely asses
Of the little klix
In love with sex
Showing themselves
In white undergarments
At elevated windows
Hoping for the Worst.
I can't take it
Anymore
If I can't hold
My little behind
To me in my room
Then it's goodbye
Sangsara
For me
Besides
klix aren't as good
As they look
And Samadhi
Is better
Than you think
When it starts in
Hitting your head
In with Buzz
Of glittergold
Heaven's Angels
Wailing
Saying
We've been waiting for you
Since Morning, Jack
Why were you so long
Dallying in the sooty room?
This transcendental Brilliance
Is the better part
(of Nothingness
I sing)
Okay.
Quit.
Mad.
Stop.
Kerouac Jack