Allen Ginsberg

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

Allen Ginsberg Poems

1. To Aunt Rose 4/1/2010
2. Mugging (I) 4/1/2010
3. Wales Visitation 4/1/2010
4. Paterson 4/1/2010
5. Psalm Iv 1/3/2003
6. Nagasaki Days 1/13/2003
7. My Sad Self 4/1/2010
8. Transcription Of Organ Music 1/3/2003
9. War Profit Litany 1/3/2003
10. On The Conduct Of The World Seeking Beauty Against Government 1/3/2003
11. Cezanne's Ports 4/1/2010
12. Plutonian Ode 1/3/2003
13. Wild Orphan 1/3/2003
14. Understand That This Is A Dream 1/3/2003
15. A Desolation 4/1/2010
16. The Lion For Real 1/3/2003
17. Those Two 1/3/2003
18. Kissass 7/19/2006
19. Sphincter 1/3/2003
20. Velocity Of Money 1/3/2003
21. Making The Lion For All It's Got -- A Ballad 1/3/2003
22. Kral Majales (King Of May) 1/3/2003
23. In The Baggage Room At Greyhound 1/3/2003
24. Hum Bom! 1/3/2003
25. 136 Syllables At Rocky Mountain Dharma Center 1/3/2003
26. The Terms In Which I Think Of Reality 1/3/2003
27. Feb. 29, 1958 1/13/2003
28. Crossing Nation 1/3/2003
29. September On Jessore Road 1/3/2003
30. Song 1/3/2003
31. In Back Of The Real 1/3/2003
32. Sunflower Sutra 1/3/2003
33. Hospital Window 1/3/2003
34. First Party At Ken Kesey's With Hell's Angels 1/13/2003
35. Kaddish, Part I 1/20/2003
36. An Asphodel 1/3/2003
37. Cosmopolitan Greetings 1/3/2003
38. Homework 1/3/2003
39. Fourth Floor, Dawn, Up All Night Writing Letters 1/3/2003
40. An Eastern Ballad 1/3/2003
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
Sun-flower
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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