Allen Ginsberg

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

Allen Ginsberg Poems

41. Crossing Nation 1/3/2003
42. Cia Dope Calypso 1/3/2003
43. Haiku (Never Published) 1/13/2003
44. Hospital Window 1/3/2003
45. Five A.M. 1/3/2003
46. Homework 1/3/2003
47. Father Death Blues 1/3/2003
48. A Supermarket In California 1/3/2003

Comments about Allen Ginsberg

  • Ray Davis (2/13/2012 5:09:00 AM)

    @Debbie Fein he was just a regular guy... He was a pederast and a member of the National Man Boy Love Association; a group that wants to eliminate the age of consent for sex with minors.
    (In their case minor boys) .
    Nothing regular about him and his poetry was laughably adolescent gibberish.

    29 person liked.
    53 person did not like.
  • Debbie Fein (1/22/2012 3:56:00 PM)

    Hamish Morcom -his poems were wonderful. I dont think you understand poetry

  • 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.

  • 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

  • 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

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

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

  • Uriah Hamilton (7/12/2005 7:41:00 AM)

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

  • 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

Psalm Iv

Now I'll record my secret vision, impossible sight of the face of God:
It was no dream, I lay broad waking on a fabulous couch in Harlem
having masturbated for no love, and read half naked an open book of Blake
on my lap
Lo & behold! I was thoughtless and turned a page and gazed on the living
and heard a voice, it was Blake's, reciting in earthen measure:
the voice rose out of the page to my secret ear never heard before-
I lifted my eyes to the window, red walls of buildings

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