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Howl echo through sky and illuminate everything clutching ears from house they come and the scream got them one by one they add to it and scream howl wail on and on and on and on on on o n till grammar and everything break breaks breaked broken
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The howl started in this room. It was a howl of immeasurable suffering that was born in this room. It was communication pure and true. It was perfect simplicity and unfathomable complexity all at once. It broke your heart in two and enjoyed every second of it. And it started in this room.
The room was all peeled wall paper and alcoholic floor with yesterday’s junkie odour still hanging in the air. A letter lay in tatters on the broken floorboard floor and next to it a man, cowering, huddled up and softly crying. The letter was the catalyst that allowed the howl to be born. It was not the cause. Torn to shreds too late it lay there with its work all ready done and the man sobbed slowly, painfully, knowing what had to be done. And the floorboard floor weeped tears of whisky and the junky atmosphere heaved and sobbed and the peeled wallpaper walls lamented, knowing what had to be done.
The letter was written in purple ink in a female hand before, long before, it was understood. She was beautiful, goddess-like transfixer of any man she picked, floating in her space of hallowed soil, the soil on which she stepped so softly, so gently, so. Hearts in mouths we watched her softly stepping so and hearts in mouths we lusted after her every movement, her every moment. Her eyes met his in lightning strike and she kissed him quite insane with passion, insane with lusty desires and cravings. She loved him she said “I love you” she said and he believed her, dreamed her, slept her and lived her madly and passionately as far as he could in every direction.
“I love you” she had lied
She had told him so many lies and he had believed them all too readily, desperately closing his eyes to the truth because it was cold and hard. He let her lies caress him and mould him long after she was gone. She had gone. She went in summer through fields of daisies in heavenly light and left him a letter in purple ink on the carpeted floor by his bed, not hers, not theirs, because she was gone. He had woken up early, colder than before because it was winter when she was not there. He saw her letter and knew what it said but drew on her lies to leave it unread
“I love you” she had said
And the letter said that too, over and over until he believed it was true. And because it was true he didn’t need to read the letter, as he already had, so he left it there and drank drank drank. The lies were demanding; they demanded he drank, to sustain the illusion that everything was all right. But the alcohol wasn’t enough to nourish her lies until he tried another drug that closed his eyes and whispered “I love you” in her voice behind his eyes a million times a second “I love you”.
The room smelled of junkies and the alcohol floor was left bare and empty, as barren as his heart. And he nourished his cancerous lies with the drugs and the drink because that was all he had left. And they rotted his brain and putrefied his soul until her voice disintegrated like everything else. Then he found her letter next to his bed and excitedly opened it to read what it said.
“I never loved you” it read
He teared it to pieces and cast it away and collapsed. His world collapsed. He had built it up on a fabric of lies, all unwoven by the cold hard truth. So he sobbed and he moaned to stop himself from thinking further from realising the awful truth that he knew all ready and he knew what had to be done.
He howled and it tore his heart in two and scream screamed through the neighbourhood the whole world heard that tortured hellish howl.
They covered their ears but nothing helped as it shattered their lies and screamed his truth, the one truth the only truth that destroys everything so it can be rebuilt
Love theres nothing there Howl howled echo through sky illuminate everything the scream got them one by add to it scream howl wail on and on and on and on on on o n till grammar and everything break breaks breaked broken
G
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E
G
O
N
E
The howl started in this room. It was a howl of immeasurable suffering that was born in this room. It was communication pure and true. It was perfect simplicity and unfathomable complexity all at once. It broke your heart in two and enjoyed every second of it. And it started in this room.
The room was all peeled wall paper and alcoholic floor with yesterday’s junkie odour still hanging in the air. A letter lay in tatters on the broken floorboard floor and next to it a man, cowering, huddled up and softly crying. The letter was the catalyst that allowed the howl to be born. It was not the cause. Torn to shreds too late it lay there with its work all ready done and the man sobbed slowly, painfully, knowing what had to be done. And the floorboard floor weeped tears of whisky and the junky atmosphere heaved and sobbed and the peeled wallpaper walls lamented, knowing what had to be done.
The letter was written in purple ink in a female hand before, long before, it was understood. She was beautiful, goddess-like transfixer of any man she picked, floating in her space of hallowed soil, the soil on which she stepped so softly, so gently, so. Hearts in mouths we watched her softly stepping so and hearts in mouths we lusted after her every movement, her every moment. Her eyes met his in lightning strike and she kissed him quite insane with passion, insane with lusty desires and cravings. She loved him she said “I love you” she said and he believed her, dreamed her, slept her and lived her madly and passionately as far as he could in every direction.
“I love you” she had lied
She had told him so many lies and he had believed them all too readily, desperately closing his eyes to the truth because it was cold and hard. He let her lies caress him and mould him long after she was gone. She had gone. She went in summer through fields of daisies in heavenly light and left him a letter in purple ink on the carpeted floor by his bed, not hers, not theirs, because she was gone. He had woken up early, colder than before because it was winter when she was not there. He saw her letter and knew what it said but drew on her lies to leave it unread
“I love you” she had said
And the letter said that too, over and over until he believed it was true. And because it was true he didn’t need to read the letter, as he already had, so he left it there and drank drank drank. The lies were demanding; they demanded he drank, to sustain the illusion that everything was all right. But the alcohol wasn’t enough to nourish her lies until he tried another drug that closed his eyes and whispered “I love you” in her voice behind his eyes a million times a second “I love you”.
The room smelled of junkies and the alcohol floor was left bare and empty, as barren as his heart. And he nourished his cancerous lies with the drugs and the drink because that was all he had left. And they rotted his brain and putrefied his soul until her voice disintegrated like everything else. Then he found her letter next to his bed and excitedly opened it to read what it said.
“I never loved you” it read
He teared it to pieces and cast it away and collapsed. His world collapsed. He had built it up on a fabric of lies, all unwoven by the cold hard truth. So he sobbed and he moaned to stop himself from thinking further from realising the awful truth that he knew all ready and he knew what had to be done.
He howled and it tore his heart in two and scream screamed through the neighbourhood the whole world heard that tortured hellish howl.
They covered their ears but nothing helped as it shattered their lies and screamed his truth, the one truth the only truth that destroys everything so it can be rebuilt
Love theres nothing there Howl howled echo through sky illuminate everything the scream got them one by add to it scream howl wail on and on and on and on on on o n till grammar and everything break breaks breaked broken
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You might not like Ginsberg's Howl, but the yuppie version is mildly amusing:
http://www.charm.net/~brooklyn/Texts/Yowl.html
http://www.charm.net/~brooklyn/Texts/Yowl.html
Good but I should spank you for making me dread the notion of encountering Ginsberg's plea to hippy-benny love in this thread.
Howl echo through sky and illuminate everything clutching ears from house they come and the scream got them one by one they add to it and scream howl wail on and on and on and on on on o n till grammar and everything break breaks breaked broken
G
O
N
E
The howl started in this room. It was a howl of immeasurable suffering that was born in this room. It was communication pure and true. It was perfect simplicity and unfathomable complexity all at once. It broke your heart in two and enjoyed every second of it. And it started in this room.
The room was all peeled wall paper and alcoholic floor with yesterday’s junkie odour still hanging in the air. A letter lay in tatters on the broken floorboard floor and next to it a man, cowering, huddled up and softly crying. The letter was the catalyst that allowed the howl to be born. It was not the cause. Torn to shreds too late it lay there with its work all ready done and the man sobbed slowly, painfully, knowing what had to be done. And the floorboard floor weeped tears of whisky and the junky atmosphere heaved and sobbed and the peeled wallpaper walls lamented, knowing what had to be done.
The letter was written in purple ink in a female hand before, long before, it was understood. She was beautiful, goddess-like transfixer of any man she picked, floating in her space of hallowed soil, the soil on which she stepped so softly, so gently, so. Hearts in mouths we watched her softly stepping so and hearts in mouths we lusted after her every movement, her every moment. Her eyes met his in lightning strike and she kissed him quite insane with passion, insane with lusty desires and cravings. She loved him she said “I love you” she said and he believed her, dreamed her, slept her and lived her madly and passionately as far as he could in every direction.
“I love you” she had lied
She had told him so many lies and he had believed them all too readily, desperately closing his eyes to the truth because it was cold and hard. He let her lies caress him and mould him long after she was gone. She had gone. She went in summer through fields of daisies in heavenly light and left him a letter in purple ink on the carpeted floor by his bed, not hers, not theirs, because she was gone. He had woken up early, colder than before because it was winter when she was not there. He saw her letter and knew what it said but drew on her lies to leave it unread
“I love you” she had said
And the letter said that too, over and over until he believed it was true. And because it was true he didn’t need to read the letter, as he already had, so he left it there and drank drank drank. The lies were demanding; they demanded he drank, to sustain the illusion that everything was all right. But the alcohol wasn’t enough to nourish her lies until he tried another drug that closed his eyes and whispered “I love you” in her voice behind his eyes a million times a second “I love you”.
The room smelled of junkies and the alcohol floor was left bare and empty, as barren as his heart. And he nourished his cancerous lies with the drugs and the drink because that was all he had left. And they rotted his brain and putrefied his soul until her voice disintegrated like everything else. Then he found her letter next to his bed and excitedly opened it to read what it said.
“I never loved you” it read
He teared it to pieces and cast it away and collapsed. His world collapsed. He had built it up on a fabric of lies, all unwoven by the cold hard truth. So he sobbed and he moaned to stop himself from thinking further from realising the awful truth that he knew all ready and he knew what had to be done.
He howled and it tore his heart in two and scream screamed through the neighbourhood the whole world heard that tortured hellish howl.
They covered their ears but nothing helped as it shattered their lies and screamed his truth, the one truth the only truth that destroys everything so it can be rebuilt
Love theres nothing there Howl howled echo through sky illuminate everything the scream got them one by add to it scream howl wail on and on and on and on on on o n till grammar and everything break breaks breaked broken
G
O
N
E
G
O
N
E
The howl started in this room. It was a howl of immeasurable suffering that was born in this room. It was communication pure and true. It was perfect simplicity and unfathomable complexity all at once. It broke your heart in two and enjoyed every second of it. And it started in this room.
The room was all peeled wall paper and alcoholic floor with yesterday’s junkie odour still hanging in the air. A letter lay in tatters on the broken floorboard floor and next to it a man, cowering, huddled up and softly crying. The letter was the catalyst that allowed the howl to be born. It was not the cause. Torn to shreds too late it lay there with its work all ready done and the man sobbed slowly, painfully, knowing what had to be done. And the floorboard floor weeped tears of whisky and the junky atmosphere heaved and sobbed and the peeled wallpaper walls lamented, knowing what had to be done.
The letter was written in purple ink in a female hand before, long before, it was understood. She was beautiful, goddess-like transfixer of any man she picked, floating in her space of hallowed soil, the soil on which she stepped so softly, so gently, so. Hearts in mouths we watched her softly stepping so and hearts in mouths we lusted after her every movement, her every moment. Her eyes met his in lightning strike and she kissed him quite insane with passion, insane with lusty desires and cravings. She loved him she said “I love you” she said and he believed her, dreamed her, slept her and lived her madly and passionately as far as he could in every direction.
“I love you” she had lied
She had told him so many lies and he had believed them all too readily, desperately closing his eyes to the truth because it was cold and hard. He let her lies caress him and mould him long after she was gone. She had gone. She went in summer through fields of daisies in heavenly light and left him a letter in purple ink on the carpeted floor by his bed, not hers, not theirs, because she was gone. He had woken up early, colder than before because it was winter when she was not there. He saw her letter and knew what it said but drew on her lies to leave it unread
“I love you” she had said
And the letter said that too, over and over until he believed it was true. And because it was true he didn’t need to read the letter, as he already had, so he left it there and drank drank drank. The lies were demanding; they demanded he drank, to sustain the illusion that everything was all right. But the alcohol wasn’t enough to nourish her lies until he tried another drug that closed his eyes and whispered “I love you” in her voice behind his eyes a million times a second “I love you”.
The room smelled of junkies and the alcohol floor was left bare and empty, as barren as his heart. And he nourished his cancerous lies with the drugs and the drink because that was all he had left. And they rotted his brain and putrefied his soul until her voice disintegrated like everything else. Then he found her letter next to his bed and excitedly opened it to read what it said.
“I never loved you” it read
He teared it to pieces and cast it away and collapsed. His world collapsed. He had built it up on a fabric of lies, all unwoven by the cold hard truth. So he sobbed and he moaned to stop himself from thinking further from realising the awful truth that he knew all ready and he knew what had to be done.
He howled and it tore his heart in two and scream screamed through the neighbourhood the whole world heard that tortured hellish howl.
They covered their ears but nothing helped as it shattered their lies and screamed his truth, the one truth the only truth that destroys everything so it can be rebuilt
Love theres nothing there Howl howled echo through sky illuminate everything the scream got them one by add to it scream howl wail on and on and on and on on on o n till grammar and everything break breaks breaked broken
G
O
N
E