Its just weather outside. Take two.

Favourite Beat Poetry.

Diaries - Anne Waldman.
Martha was a girl after my own heart.
She slept late,
lived for the moment,
and did the thing.
Now this was the truth.
We had not known each other long before
we discovered the common bonds.
One day was like this in the diary:

Got up late. Here I am writing in the diary.
It is 1.00pm. It is raining outside.
Martha is coming over (soon I hope).
The coffee is boiling so I have to go.

Later she showed me her diary:

Raining outside.
Just got up.
1.00pm.
Going over to X's soon.
Coffee is ready.

Then I showed her my diary even later
and we agreed that we had much in common.
I asked her about the X, however, and she said,
"You can never tell can you who might see it?"
I agreed and since then have been using arbitrary
initials to identify the people in my life.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Excerpt:
For C. - Philip Whalen.

I saw the bushes of crimson rhododendron, sparkling wet
Beside the hospital walk - I had to see you.
If you were out, I'd leave these flowers.
Even if I couldn't write or speak
At least I broke and stole that branch with love.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%
Excerpt:
April fool birthday poem for grandpa. - Diane Di Prima
Today is your
birthday and I have tried
writing these things before,
but now
in the gathering madness, I want to
thank you
for telling me what to expect
for pulling
no punches, back there in that scrubbed Bronx parlor
thank you
for honestly weeping in time to
innumerable heartbreaking
italian operas for
pulling my hair when I
pulled the leaves off the trees so I'd
know how it feels.

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%