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Jack Kerouac - Selected Poems

The summary provides the key details and themes across the selected poems in 3 sentences or less: Kerouac's poems explore themes of mortality, suffering, and the search for meaning through references to tears, father figures, and jazz music. Carroll's poems address desires, loneliness, and the fragility of trust between people through vivid imagery of winds and eyes. The third poem contrasts the trust people place in wolves and hands with the violence that can emerge from unresolved issues between people.

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Mari Silva
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0% found this document useful (0 votes)
906 views

Jack Kerouac - Selected Poems

The summary provides the key details and themes across the selected poems in 3 sentences or less: Kerouac's poems explore themes of mortality, suffering, and the search for meaning through references to tears, father figures, and jazz music. Carroll's poems address desires, loneliness, and the fragility of trust between people through vivid imagery of winds and eyes. The third poem contrasts the trust people place in wolves and hands with the violence that can emerge from unresolved issues between people.

Uploaded by

Mari Silva
Copyright
© Attribution Non-Commercial (BY-NC)
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
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Download as PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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Selected Poems from Jack Kerouac On Tears Tears is the break of my brow, The moony tempestuous Sitting down

In dark railyards When to see my mothers face Recalling from the waking vision I wept to understand The trap mortality And personal blood of earth Which saw me in Father father Why hast thou forsaken me? Mortality & unpleasure Roam this city Unhappiness my middle name I want to be saved,-Sunkcant be Wont be Never was made So retch! Tree But a tree has a long suffering shape Is spread in half by 2 limbed fate Rises from gray rain pavements To traffic in the bleak brown air Of cities radar television nameless dumb & numb mis connicumb Throwing twigs the color of ink To white souled heaven, with A reality of its own uses Tenorman Sweet sad young tenor Horn slumped around neck Bearded full of junk Slouches waiting For Apocalypse, Listens to the new Negro raw trumpet kid Tell him the wooden news; And the beat of the bass The bassdrives in Drummer drops a bomb Piano tinkle tackles Sweet tenor lifting All American sorrows Raises mouthpiece to mouth And blows to finger The iron sounds

Selected Poems from Jim Carroll Prologue Starting with little in mind the best you might do is begin it over and over again. Transforming the real earth to a texture and strength beyond control. I am thinking of a wave. We sit, huddled in winter coats, transfixed to the logic of stars collapsing. The fresh gravity pulling at stones we grip. Locked tightly to the seams of night, the moon rears like a fenced stallion and, its rage subdued, turns back. Then the hour is loose as the music, a vapor passing through. It defies each change, As the wind outdistances each word spoken, and replies with a promise already broken. Our Desires There is a wind that seeks the crevice under my heart the way insects file at night beneath a doorway Its edges are rough, it slits the cords. It trips my steady breathing. When it comes there is no one I can trust. It seems, at times, I have designed too well this vision of you. I cannot survive your eyes when they are scarred with a need for some lesser form of love. I admit to this conceit. And though you will not accept it You love it nonetheless It is just like you. Our desires will always be kept sharp by a kind of perversity. A need to be each forever alone. Its color is violet, like lips that have been smashed by nights or robbed of blood by lack of breath. The wind I was speaking of does this. I can feel it now.

Poem Some trust the wolf they have raised since birth not to turn on them. Some trust their lives In the hands whose fingers Are five silent lives. Some will be reminded of nothing, or perish by that mermory. Poem The people down The hallway who Stab each other Each Friday night Is that a ritual Or just something terribly unresolved?

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