FILL UP AGAIN YOUR PUMPKINS WHIT
ALCOHOL, AND HAND UP THE LARGEST OF THEM
TO ME...SOLLEMN, I WILL LIGTH THE GIANT
COULDS FOR YOU. NOW IN THE NIGHT.IN THE
DEEP BLACK NIGHT...
YOU CANNOT SEE US, NO YOU CANNOT SEE US
BUT YOU ARE OURSELVES...THEREFORE WE
LAUGH SO GUILY WHEN THE SKIES ARE RED AT
DAWN, AT MIDDAY, AND IN THE BLACKEST
NIGTH.
STARS ARE OUR EYES AND THE NEBULAE OUR
BEARDS...WE HAVE PEOPLE´SOULS FOR YOUR
HEARST.WE HIDE OURSELVES AND YOU CANNOT
SEE US, WHICH IS JUST WHAT WE WANT WHEN
THE SIES ARE RED AT DAWN, AT MIDDAY,
AND INTO THE BLASCKEST NIGHT.
OURS TTORCHES STRETCHAWAY WITHOUT END,,,
SILVER, GLOWING RED, PURPLE, VIOLET, GREEN-
BLUE, AND BLACK. WEBEAR THEM IN OUR
DANCE OVER THE SEAS AND THE MOUNTAINS
ACROSS THE BOREDOM OF LIFE.
WE SLEEP AND STARS CIRCLE IN THE GLOOMY
DREAM.WE WAKE AND THE SUNS ASSEMBLE
FOR THE DANCE ACROSS BANKERS AND FOOLS,
WHORES AND DUCHEESSES..
3 comments:
Good topic, may Sandro Chia nows him as well
Very interesting, Elaine. I also loved the words, and the sentiment offered in the preceeding posting on Mack Beckman.
Elaine, I am unaware of this poem. Is this by Beckman, or someone else in the neue Sachlichkeit movement, or did you write this?
It´s a Beckmann one´s, I found it when I studied in San Francisco .(by my fiancé)
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