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

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An Asphodel

O dear sweet rosy
unattainable desire
...how sad, no way
to change the mad
cultivated asphodel, the
visible reality...

and skin's appalling
petals--how inspired
to be so Iying in the living
room drunk naked
and dreaming, in the absence
of electricity...
over and over eating the low root
of the asphodel,
gray fate...

rolling in generation
on the flowery couch
as on a bank in Arden--
my only rose tonite's the treat
of my own nudity.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003


Read poems about / on: fate, change, sad, rose, dream

Comments about this poem (An Asphodel by Allen Ginsberg )

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  • JH Poetry (11/9/2010 6:00:00 PM)

    a simple desire, nicely written

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Pha Thanh Gian (4/27/2005 11:31:00 AM)

    my exact sentiments currently... nicely done

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
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