Five A.M.

Elan that lifts me above the clouds
into pure space, timeless, yea eternal
Breath transmuted into words
Transmuted back to breath
in one hundred two hundred years
nearly Immortal, Sappho's 26 centuries
of cadenced breathing - beyond time, clocks, empires, bodies, cars,
chariots, rocket ships skyscrapers, Nation empires
brass walls, polished marble, Inca Artwork
of the mind - but where's it come from?
Inspiration? The muses drawing breath for you? God?
Nah, don't believe it, you'll get entangled in Heaven or Hell -
Guilt power, that makes the heart beat wake all night
flooding mind with space, echoing through future cities, Megalopolis or
Cretan village, Zeus' birth cave Lassithi Plains - Otsego County
farmhouse, Kansas front porch?
Buddha's a help, promises ordinary mind no nirvana -
coffee, alcohol, cocaine, mushrooms, marijuana, laughing gas?
Nope, too heavy for this lightness lifts the brain into blue sky
at May dawn when birds start singing on East 12th street -
Where does it come from, where does it go forever? .

by Allen Ginsberg

Comments (9)

The flower which the wind has shaken Is soon filled again with rain; So does my heart fill slowly with tears, Until you return. My heart fills with joy to read this lovely poem
A pale sky! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Exquisite portrayal of nature and how it relates to the feelings of a man. Matchless. Thanks.
Simply awesome. The journey of love is fantastic here. Each stanza is a gem in itself. Thanks for sharing and Congrats.
An exquisite poem. Rich in imagery.
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