• About

Oceantics

~ because the waves and tumbles of life are only as serious as we make them.

Oceantics

Tag Archives: Jack Kerouac

there are no lost amigos

31 Wednesday Dec 2014

Posted by elainestirling in Poetry

≈ 5 Comments

Tags

#bringingbacktheglosa, Alain C. Dexter, Elaine Stirling, form poetry, glosa, Jack Kerouac, medieval Spanish fixed verse, poem for the New Year

Lost Amigos

~ a glosa in three parts ~

contact between you &
God means no church,
no society, no reform,
& almost no relationships,
& almost no hope in
relationships—but
kindness of hope inherent
in that what is good,
shall live & what is
bad, dies—Your
flesh will be a husk,
but yr. soul a star—

—from Jack Kerouac, Book of Sketches, Oct. 31, 1952

~~~

I

I see you’ve lined up
yr bottles for tonight’s
obliteration, hoping for a
hit, some kind of catapult,
another dis-appointment with
old friends & lovers banned
from sobriety. Let me tell you
now, friend, there are no
lost amigos, only grand
contact between you &

incomplete, you say,
without that special someone
every day a seek
& almost find, that time
in Jalisco if you hadn’t been
blind drunk, the search
would be long over, yeah?
insatiable she was,
only her crucifix made you lurch
God means no church

but enough about me—
how’s life treating you?
Have you learned yet
to take a compliment,
or does that old leather
strop torn
from its nail in the woodshed
still reek of bay rum?
do you still bleed his scorn?
no society, no reform

I’ve been there, I know.
All that shit between pretty
covers with my name
on it, I scrounged hard
from railyards—rusty
I-beams and wet pine chips
for a bed, alone
now I’m practically a saint—
all those women, a few drips,
& almost no relationships

II

so here’s the thing—
there are no dead poets
there is no dead anything
sure, mountains are melting
& a certain green salamander
won’t be unfurling her thin
pink tongue for termites anymore—
but it’s not yr doing; she’s done
here for now, a slow grin
& almost no hope in

wishing your fellow man
were not so immune
to yr discontent.
Life seems easier
when you can stir up
guilt in yr little grass hut
like a pot of beans
on low simmer—
hell, you can’t shut
relationships—but

you can confuse yourself
over & over like those old wooden
paddle toys with rubber ball
attached—k’bonk, k’bonk, k’bonk,
what’d I do? what’d I do? what’d I do?
short answer: nothing. A fine gent
you are, always will be.
Inner space, same as outer,
nothing lost, mis- or unspent,
kindness of hope inherent

but you’ve heard all this—
smoked it & wrote it
& sold it to a few
worse off than you. Maybe
it’s time to clear off those
shelves. They’ve been yr hood,
yr holy armor, for how long now?
No one wants a soldier with flat
feet. Letting go’s the only rood
in that what is good

III

So. Make friends with emptiness.
Yesterday’s om and a planet’s
worth of mountaintops
won’t save yr bored soul.
Practice saying, I am deep
& meaningful, leave the biz
of others to others
never ask them why
believe love and genius
shall live & what is

is. There’s no other
tense and no better
way to let go the tension.
Stop gluing name tags
to intolerance—gluten, lactose—
give up keeping score;
everything you look at
multiplies—boom, ka-ta-boom!
ignore
bad, dies—Your

the one in charge
of what comes around
& who stays away
but still,
we’re amigos to the end,
bro, through love & lust—
throw out the dishwater
from yr last best date—one day
you’ll smell, it’s not a healthy musk
your flesh will be a husk

I have to split soon.
You got tons of visitors
cuter than me lined up. I just
came to oil yr valves, give
the silver in yr irises a gleam.
The New Year isn’t far;
it’s continuous New Now. We’ll
meet again soon. You’ll see
that nothing leaves a scar—
but yr soul a star!

© Elaine Stirling, 2014
Image by Kara Bobechko, © 2014

Advertisement

Factoidectomy

11 Monday Mar 2013

Posted by elainestirling in Parody

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

Alan Watts, Allen Ginsberg, Beat poets, Elaine Stirling, Jack Kerouac, obsession with correcting other's people's facts and perceptions, poetry, satire, Zen koan

James Kerouac_1

I spent a day
with the Beats,
Allen mostly, two
degrees removed
from Jack, whose
roots still throb in
Lowell & whose neck
I am in love with.

Our convivée
included shooters,
B-52s and some
weird green drink,
essence of absence,
I think, which begs
a lisp, I know, but
that very urge to
correct is why,
as it turns out,
we’d gathered
in a smoky bar
above a clinic with
swinging doors.

Could I please,
I exhorted Jack,
make these lines
a little longer?
I don’t write
in matchbooks,
never did
the hobo
thing.

He gave me
that squint, you
know the one, where
lightendarkment
spin so fast,
the gap—

We enjoyed
some man woman
stuff—how could
we not?—which
gave Al time
to chat cubes
with Pissarro

and then
in the midst
of our fumbling
for the perfect
image, an orderly
arrived with a tray
bearing pills in a
pink Dixie cup
and a long
silver needle.

The procedure
was over before
it began, next thing
I knew we were
out on the street
flagging a cab.

In the back
between Allen
and Jack I felt
for the two raw
spots behind
my ears.

Try saying something.

Cat got yr tongue?

No urges, splurges,
poor pity-me dirges?

Look, Al,
the windows
aren’t fogging.

(Does that mean
I’m dead?)

beat, beat, beat, beat…

The driver whose face
I hadn’t seen broke
the silence with laughter
& said through the rearview
mirror in plum British tones,
what have you forgotten?

Everynoallthing, Mr. Watts.

The poets hurrahed
and clapped in sounds
that shot swallows and
bats from the hell of
a million belfries

the nasal tone
that builds from
the accretion of
the need to insist
was gone

before I could
determine what
if anything had
replaced it, our cab
arrived at the
firstlastonly holy
place I’d ever
seen.

There was
not a single
unfamilar
face.

© Elaine Stirling, 2013

Recent Posts

  • We are family, Dytiscidae…
  • The Boy Who Played with ABZs
  • Distancing
  • To Begin, Begin
  • I Cross the Street When I See You Coming

Archives

  • November 2021
  • May 2021
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • April 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • August 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014
  • December 2013
  • November 2013
  • October 2013
  • September 2013
  • August 2013
  • July 2013
  • June 2013
  • May 2013
  • April 2013
  • March 2013
  • February 2013
  • January 2013
  • December 2012
  • November 2012
  • October 2012
  • September 2012

Meta

  • Register
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

Blogroll

  • Discuss
  • Get Inspired
  • Get Polling
  • Get Support
  • Learn WordPress.com
  • Theme Showcase
  • WordPress Planet
  • WordPress.com News

Blog Stats

  • 40,622 hits

What I’m Tweeting these days

  • I just submitted "H.A.G." to @fadeinawards via FilmFreeway.com! - 4 months ago
  • Delighted that my animated musical feature TOAST has made the quarterfinals! twitter.com/screencrafting… 4 months ago
  • @SimuLiu I'm halfway through the prologue and already in tears. So, so happy for you! 7 months ago
  • RT @SimuLiu: Guys I think I made finally made her proud https://t.co/EnC4mvyfiV 7 months ago
  • In this uncertain Holiday Season, wishing all of you Peace, Joy, and Patience. And a splendid 2022! 1 year ago

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 2,344 other subscribers

Top Posts & Pages

  • We are family, Dytiscidae...
  • The Boy Who Played with ABZs
  • Distancing
  • To Begin, Begin
  • I Cross the Street When I See You Coming
  • Moistures & Excitements
  • The Clowns Are Staying Home Today
  • Viral Ides
  • A Sonnet for Sir Terry
  • Secrets to a Happy Life

Blog at WordPress.com.

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
  • Follow Following
    • Oceantics
    • Join 1,152 other followers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • Oceantics
    • Customize
    • Follow Following
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
 

Loading Comments...