Allen Ginsberg

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

Feb. 29, 1958 - Poem by Allen Ginsberg

Last nite I dreamed of T.S. Eliot
welcoming me to the land of dream
Sofas couches fog in England
Tea in his digs Chelsea rainbows
curtains on his windows, fog seeping in
the chimney but a nice warm house
and an incredibly sweet hooknosed
Eliot he loved me, put me up,
gave me a couch to sleep on,
conversed kindly, took me serious
asked my opinion on Mayakovsky
I read him Corso Creeley Kerouac
advised Burroughs Olson Huncke
the bearded lady in the Zoo, the
intelligent puma in Mexico City
6 chorus boys from Zanzibar
who chanted in wornout polygot
Swahili, and the rippling rythyms
of Ma Rainey and Vachel Lindsay.
On the Isle of the Queen
we had a long evening's conversation
Then he tucked me in my long
red underwear under a silken
blanket by the fire on the sofa
gave me English Hottie
and went off sadly to his bed,
Saying ah Ginsberg I am glad
to have met a fine young man like you.
At last, I woke ashamed of myself.
Is he that good and kind? Am I that great?
What's my motive dreaming his
manna? What English Department
would that impress? What failure
to be perfect prophet's made up here?
I dream of my kindness to T.S. Eliot
wanting to be a historical poet
and share in his finance of Imagery-
overambitious dream of eccentric boy.
God forbid my evil dreams come true.
Last nite I dreamed of Allen Ginsberg.
T.S. Eliot would've been ashamed of me.


Comments about Feb. 29, 1958 by Allen Ginsberg

  • Veteran Poet - 1,065 Points Panmelys Panmelys (4/11/2015 10:35:00 AM)

    Difficult poem to comment on, something like wishful desire, feeling of greatness, yet ashamed of admitting something? A little like TSEliot himself, they belonged to a time longing for something they found difficult to express:
    I feel them a little like The Lost Generation, perhaps anticipating a time ahead? I love Ginsberg Howl, Kerouac's On the Road, and TSE's The Waste Land -but never felt a part of their world, just find their poems excellent. Panmelys. (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: fog, dream, evil, city, house, red, sleep, fire, god, rainbow



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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