http://slow.writerscafe.org/strangledmystics The original writings of author The Young Lion Last Beat en-us Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org 1776031707 WritersCafe.org RSS Generator 15 Phone rings at twelve-thirty in the afternoon and I am sleep it startles me awake with the low buzz of the ringer and it's inaudibly high-pitched sound frequency set so high that even my dog would have difficulty hearing it; no doubt that even a god real or unreal could refuse such a sound. It's Ed.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/316139/ Moan for the holy and unholy alike moan for the sufferings of the beatific & the sainted moan for the buddhas and angels Moan for the traveler and the homeless moan for me my love moan .. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/314675/ Too tired to have sex tonight though your a*s is tight and breasts supple I'm too tired to have sex tonight--close your legs sweetie I'm too tired to make love to tonight. I'm always too tired to take control. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/313537/ I am remin​dedof the herme​tic bliss​I've had befor​e alone​now that I'min the crowd​ withaa myria​d of sound​s & voice​sthat are unfam​iliar​and I long for the quiet​ude of my home and bedro​omw.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/313459/ I think of Dean Moriarty the father we never found, I think of Dean Moriarty. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/312921/ I shaved off all of the hair on my face for the first time in months. The weariness fled from my face with each stroke of the razor and now I look clean and young. I wish were this innocent. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/312738/ I started writing a poemabout being a poet butI never finished itor maybe I lost it. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/312264/  Before you die please please  tell me that  you love me. Hold me close and look into  my eyes and tell me that you love me before you die. I'll kiss your eyelids blessing the images that your eyes&nbs.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/312250/  Down in New Orleans I saw women who wore almost nothing & oh how they must of looked to those who had paid attention.  Too drunk to notice  the hang of flesh of strangers and too lonely to bare the thought of sex&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311539/ see chapter 1 post for description http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311524/ The crowd stood there tightly packed Into the casino's arena under the lights from The vaulted ceilings like pack animals.It was gaudily ornamented with fake gold And red seat fabric and red carpets red red red red everywhere From the balcony to the general adm.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311522/ That which wraps itself around our bodiesfrom birth will loosen it's loving embracefrom our jittery bonesand wither in time till we are lain beneaththe ground and left coldfrom it's absence. And beneath the livingour carbon will be stolenfor all of time al.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311521/ The old man said indignantly "your nobody till your dead, kid.There is no meaning in this lifeonly in the next life willyou find happiness but firstyou must live right and prayto God for salvation in the next life, humble yourselfto the clergy and to the church"... http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311519/ At night without you the dimness really frightens me.It's dark everywhere else but in here--the lightsnot that brightwhich sits on the cornerof the dresser next tothe half empty glassof water whichyou poured for yourselfgrimacing at the tasteof the flouride and the&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311518/ I am constantly remindedof the rhythm of sexin everything and it is beautiful.It's the beating of a lover's heartclose to your earpressed up against atender chest welcomingand warm as your headis lain to rest nearthe womb wherelife is heldafter the point of concep.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311517/ The morning spoke softly, almost imperceptibly to me through the quiet musings of the birds aloft in their trees. It asked with such gentility "how do you receive me, child" I replied sheepishly "with open eyes". http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311515/ written after reading a poem of the same name by the great remember Allen Ginsberg and meditating the religious beliefs of Kerouac early and later on in life http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311514/ As in a dream every southern townis the same-- The oppressive heatsurrounded me on all sides as if to overtake me The sun glared down from melancholy blue skycommanding attention as the lightburnt my eyes and my feet with every step I took on the pavement.The humidity is unbe.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311512/ I dreamt that the earthlost her tolerance for humanity and decidedto rid herself of the plaguewhich she pledged to protectmillions of years agobut she became enragedand disgusted with what she saw around her andparted her lipsand opened her mouthwhich I imagine.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311511/ I've got blisters on the bottom of my feet from walking all dayand my neck is sore from upward glancesevery few feet to the skybut I found nothing of interestin it except maybe a few birdsand passenger airplanes for awhilebut it was an overcast and visibilitywas lo.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311510/ The working mansweats for his employersand loves no one.I've Cleaned toilets and scrubbed greasypots and pans for another man & it was not dignified but shameful.I lowered myselfto the soiled groundof a public restroomin a resturant to clean.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311509/ I've never had aproblem with the waywords came out of my head so easily and with such little thoughtuntil I started writing poetry goingon 2 years now.I had a mastery of language that went beyond metaphorand the simile and sentence structures before I started to.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311506/ written after reading Naked Lunch http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311503/ We use to watchtelevision together& you sat in your chairvery close to the lcd screenblurry-eyed viewing of the newsand drool pooledbeneath your chinin shame of detiorating body--No shame in my eyes for you no shamein my heart of you.We use to watchtelevisi.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311502/ Too damn self-conscienceto be zen--I've spenttoo many nightsawake staring atthe ceiling nakedcursing the belly-fatand hair positionedon my torso andtoo many late nightconversations withfriends aboutCamus and Kerouacto attemptto love a flowerfor being a flowerand not for.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311501/ 'What is art? Prostitution" ---Baudelaire---- The common street w***e is not much different than any artist. The w***e wallows in shame with her clothes off on her back and on her knees for money while the poet perpetuates his suffering&nb.. http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/strangledmystics/311499/