Allen Ginsberg

(3 June 1926 – 5 April 1997 / Newark, New Jersey)

Comments about Allen Ginsberg

  • Rookie Debbie Fein (1/22/2012 3:54:00 PM)

    I knew Allen up until around the time he passed away. My Uncle was his cousin and Allen would come over many times to my aunt and uncles house. Allen was so nice and down to earth. He never spoke about his poems - he was just a regular guy.

    28 person liked.
    20 person did not like.
  • Rookie James Lloyd (1/9/2012 10:29:00 AM)

    Hamish Morcom is an idiot.....On The Road would have never been published without the support of Ginberg and Howl.....Philistine

  • Rookie Hamish Morcom (1/5/2012 11:35:00 AM)

    Allen, good job when you sucked off Jack Kerouac! I am a really big fan of the time you did that! But your poetry is often terrible

  • Rookie Michael Dayton (3/16/2008 2:31:00 AM)

    Hey Allen, Your Poetry Is Truly Inspiring, Hope You Read This From The Afterlife!

  • Veteran Poet - 1,213 Points Uriah Hamilton (7/12/2005 7:41:00 AM)

    Great visionary 20th century poet
    tranforming thought freedom
    along with Jack Kerouac and Bob Dylan!

  • Rookie Michael Shepherd (2/20/2005 12:16:00 PM)

    Dear Allen,
    They tell me you're dead. I see no sign of that in your poetry.

Best Poem of Allen Ginsberg

A Supermarket In California

What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the
streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.

In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit
supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles
full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes! --- and you,
Garcia Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?
I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the
meats in the ...

Read the full of A Supermarket In California

Nagasaki Days

I -- A Pleasant Afternoon

for Michael Brownstein and Dick Gallup

One day 3 poets and 60 ears sat under a green-striped Chau-
tauqua tent in Aurora
listening to Black spirituals, tapping their feet, appreciating
words singing by in mountain winds

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