American Counterculture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Poetry

Robert Creeley

The Rain All night the sound hadcome back again,and again fallsthis quiet, persistent rain. What am I to myselfthat must be remembered,insisted uponso often? Is it that never the ease,even the hardness,of rain fallingwill have for me something other than this,something not so insistent—am I to be locked in thisfinal uneasiness. Love, if you love me,lie next to me.Be… Continue reading Robert Creeley

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American Counterculture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Passage · Poetry · The Beat Generation · The San Francisco Renaissance

Kenneth Rexroth

…I lie alone in an alien Bed in a strange house and morning More cruel than any midnight Pours its brightness through the window – Cherry branches with the flowers Fading, and behind them the gold Stately baubles of the maple, And behind them the pure immense April sky and a white frayed cloud, And… Continue reading Kenneth Rexroth

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American Counterculture · American Literature · Anthology · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Poetry · The Beat Generation · The San Francisco Renaissance

Jack Spicer

Psychoanalysis: An Elegy What are you thinking about? I am thinking of an early summer. I am thinking of wet hills in the rain Pouring water. Shedding it Down empty acres of oak and manzanita Down to the old green brush tangled in the sun, Greasewood, sage, and spring mustard. Or the hot wind coming… Continue reading Jack Spicer

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American Counterculture · American Literature · Classic · Collection · Excerpt · Poetry · The Beat Generation · The San Francisco Renaissance

Jack Spicer

Whispers– Eurydice’s head is missing Whispers– Get out of hell– Whispers– You big poet We soldiers from hell’s country Here Safe as you are You write poetry For dead persons. — Jack Spicer, “Elegy,” The Heads of the Town up to the Aether. (Auerhahn Society; First edition 1962)

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American Counterculture · American Culture · American Literature · Anthology · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry · The Beat Generation · The San Francisco Renaissance

Kenneth Rexroth

Now I know surely and forever, However much I have blotted our Waking love, its memory is still There. And I know the web, the net, The blind and crippled bird. For then, for One brief instant it was not blind, nor Trapped, nor crippled. For one heart beat the Heart was free and moved… Continue reading Kenneth Rexroth

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American Counterculture · American Literature · Classic · Excerpt · Fiction · Novel · Paraphrase · Passage · Quote · The Beat Generation · Travel

Jack Kerouac

Thinking of the stars night after night I begin to realize “The stars are words” and all the innumerable worlds in the Milky Way are words, and so is this world too. And I realize that no matter where I am, whether in a little room full of thought, or in this endless universe of… Continue reading Jack Kerouac

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