Daniel Partlow Poems
Howl Allen Ginsberg
Howl Allen Ginsberg with Nebuchadnezzar’s
For this generation’s minds lie bleeding and ravished
in the streets of the libertine-philosophic
Your angel-headed hipsters of darkness marshalling
the hollow-eyed masses to their graves.
Israfel softly sings his damnable odes in the classroom
and o’er the air-waves.
Two hundred million saxes wail false laments
like the butchered-truths of the painter Francis Bacon
But when one prays at the altar of Damien Hirst
(or de Payens) just Who and what has been forsaken?
Winds Of The Spirit
Why chase the wind, when you can become it?
Carry the Spirit, be its voice, though others try to dumb it.
Sing the song of joy, when others only hum it.
Be the resonating harmony as angels lift the harp and strum it.
Rising above the cities, and down to the waters plummet.
Across the barren deserts and up to the mountain summit.
In faith the intellect is overcome, the burden of the flesh eases.
For the winds are unfettered and go wherever the Spirit pleases.